Page 54 of Entwined

She blinks.

It’s tiring to create and exhausting to hold.

“You need to eat too.”

I’m careful to send a very private message, just to her. I can’t do that in front of anyone. Not as Azar, remember?

She frowns, but doesn’t argue.

Eventually, though, I do have to eat. I’m leaving to check on preparations, and I’ll return as Axel. He can be seen eating anything. I’ll have him bring your belongings from the tower.

Liz looks a bit uneasy when I leave, winging away from her as she grows smaller and smaller. It’s notably easier for me to fly away than it was only yesterday. Talking things through with her has made things more comfortable between us, and today’s progress helped even more.

I do wonder whether anyone else will entwine. Some of the blessed-human bonds don’t seem so miserable. Maybe more of them will develop into something strong, healthy, and robust. After grabbing Liz’s bags—two fairly large fabric-shelled boxes—I shift. Working out a way to carry them via clipping them together and slinging them across my back takes longer than I anticipate, but the bond’s solid and bright, so I don’t worry too much about being away.

When I finally reach the gathering again, Liz is talking to Gideon and they look pretty heated. Fluff Dog has even gotten involved, coming out of hiding behind Sammy’s leg to bark and bark at them. I’d been intentionally not listening in on her conversations, trying to give her a little bit of privacy. I manage to have private conversations telepathically with other blessed. I figure she should have a bit of time without me peering over her figurative shoulder.

But now I regret it.

“—stay here with the other humans. It’s the only smart move for you.”

“I told you I won’t be separated from you,” Gideon insists.

“You were gone earlier,” she says. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. You snuck out to try and get a message through.”

“I’m still a human,” he says. “I’m not going to apologize for trying to help my own kind. Even when some of them are confused.”

I clear my throat.

“Oh, good. Your weaker, somewhat less tyrannical overlord has joined us. At least he’s in his worm form, so he won’t be wrapping his arm around your shoulders.”

Blessed don’t roll our eyes. Or at least, we didn’t before we realized how great it feels. Now I find myself doing it in all the situations where I would formerly have flayed someone open.

“Gideon, I already told you?—”

“You said we were going to. . .” He looks around, taking in the listening ears of Coral, Jade, and Sammy. “You said we were going to be together. You said it would help you get some distance from them.”

I assume he’s referring to our former plan of their mating. Even the thought of that makes me begin to shake. It’s difficult, but I must stay calm. If I don’t, I’ll shift into Azar and reduce him to a pile of ash on the spot. No.

Gideon’s eyes cut toward me. “I heard it was your idea, actually.”

It was, I admit. Sort of. But it was a bad one. We found a better way.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Gideon reaches for Liz’s hand.

He’s lucky she backs up, yanking her hand away, or I might snap his off at the wrist. “Listen to me, Gideon. You’re miserable here, and there’s clearly nothing you can do to protect Sammy, Coral, or Jade. You should go home to where you can actually do some good. You’ll be much happier there, too.”

“What about your mother?” Gideon asks. “Are you sending her away?”

“No,” Liz’s mother says. “I’m going.”

“No, you’re not,” Liz says, her face doggedly determined. “You’re both staying here, far from the upheaval caused by the dragons.”

“You can’t force us to stay,” Gideon says. “Especially not after that speech you made earlier about choices.”

“You didn’t even hear it,” Liz snaps.

“I heard it was pretty extreme, with the dragons pretending to try harder not to be tyrannical.” Gideon’s lip is curled.