Page 20 of Storm of Blood and Shadow (Merciless Dragons #3)

He’s mine, and the Mordvorren can’t have him.

I hate that everything is so far out of my control. I hate that I’m trapped here in Varex’s cave while he fulfills his princely duties. I hate that fish have so many fucking bones.

Despite the bones, I eat too much of the freshly cooked fish, and my shrunken stomach revolts. I almost lose what I devoured, but I manage to keep it down by lying perfectly still on the grass bed and taking deep breaths of the rain-washed, sunlit air pouring in through the cave entrance.

Varex’s cave is so much bigger now, ever since his unhinged dragon self widened the passage. His void orbs must have sucked up most of the debris left by the excavation, because I only see a few shards and shavings of stone littering the floor.

He tried to kill himself for my sake, and then he took a huge risk without telling me first. It was successful, for now, and I’m grateful… but I’m also incensed that he didn’t share his plan before he flung himself out of the cave.

I have no doubt that Varex truly cares about me, but he can’t keep making all the decisions by himself. He thinks he knows what’s best for me, and maybe he does, but if any kind of relationship is going to work between us, he has to learn to consult me, to let me be an adult woman, his partner, not just his pretty little captive.

And I’ll have to learn to listen to him. I’m used to weighing all the options and making all the choices, but I tend to prioritize everyone else when it comes to the tough decisions. Varex is the voice I need to petition for my own wellbeing when I won’t advocate for myself.

It will take some work to find the right balance between us. We’ll have to stretch the muscles of our relationship, practice the movements, find the right rhythm. I’m not afraid of hard work, or of the pain that comes with growth. What I am afraid of is the Mordvorren that somehow resides within the magical void of Varex’s body.

I stand at the brink of the cave ledge for a while, enjoying the sun, but the height starts to bother me, so I draw back a bit. Now and then I spot a dragon soaring by, surveying the island, hunting, or just stretching his wings.

Varex doesn’t come back for hours. I wash myself in the crystal pools, drink water, eat more fish, and do some stretches and exercises to pass the time. Then I pace the cave, waiting.

When Varex finally returns, he doesn’t give me a chance to say the words that have been simmering in my heart since he left.

“Princess Serylla was stolen by Fortunix, an elder dragon.” His voice is heavy with anger and concern. “He’s taking her to the King of Vohrain in exchange for a reward. He betrayed Kyreagan, betrayed all of us.”

“Oh my god.” Horror strikes deep in my soul, my own worries forgotten for the moment. “Rahzien is notoriously cruel. The things he will do to her—”

“I know. I heard some of it from his own mouth when we met him at Ehren’s Point. With our weakened numbers, and hatching season under way, we can’t risk all-out war against Rahzien, so Kyreagan and one of the other dragons are going to rescue her. My brother has left me in charge.”

“Is that wise?” I wince. “We don’t know how the Mordvorren is going to affect you.”

“I didn’t tell him about that,” Varex confesses. “He has enough on his mind. But I agree with you—I’m not quite myself. Not as competent as I should be. That’s why I’ve asked a few of the other dragons to supervise the cleanup of the island, the gathering and preparation of food, and the hunting expedition to the Middenwold Isles. Rothkuri and his mate will take care of my brother’s eggs during his absence.”

“His… eggs?”

Varex’s eyes soften. “The Princess birthed two eggs for him. They are beautiful.”

“Oh god. Is she alright?”

“According to Kyreagan, she was perfectly fine, until Fortunix stole her.”

The idea of a dragon’s sperm joining with human eggs and somehow forming actual eggs with shells is extremely odd to me. I can’t help wondering how the experience felt for Serylla, and what her true thoughts about the process might be. Even if I was fertile, I’m not sure I could ever endure such a thing.

Varex is watching me, as if he can guess the general topic of my thoughts, but he doesn’t press me to divulge my feelings about the concept of humans laying dragon eggs.

“The sorceress Thelise is going to visit me here briefly,” he says. “I may need to go away for a while… remove myself from Ouroskelle so I cannot cause harm if the Mordvorren overtakes my mind and I become dangerous.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You need to remain here. Perhaps you can stay with Thelise and Ashvelon.”

“No.”

Varex blinks, his long neck pulling back and arching as if I’ve startled him. “No?”

“You’ve made enough decisions on my behalf. This is my choice. If you leave, I’m coming with you. Whatever happens, I want to be there.”

“It’s not safe,” he begins, but I cut him off.

“Nowhere is safe,” I exclaim. “Not here, not on the mainland.”

“But I—”

“You realize that I’m offering to stay with you when I know my family is still in Elekstan, under the rule of that monster Rahzien? You should be grateful that I’m choosing you over them, at least for now. You need me, and so I’ll stay.”

He shakes his horned head. “You should put yourself and your safety first.”

“You’re one to talk,” I scoff. “You never put yourself first. Look at everything you’ve given up for your brother! I used to think you were selfish, but you’re actually the most selfless dragon I know.”

His eyes warm with humor. “You don’t know many dragons, darling.”

“And you have much to learn about the tenacity and resolve of human women,” I retort.

We stare each other down, and I can sense that we’re at the beginning of a very long argument we’re both determined to win. But before we can plunge into it, Ashvelon appears in the mouth of the cave, with a woman on his back—the sorceress. I haven’t met her before, but it strikes me that she looks thin and shaky. There’s a sallow look to her brown skin and sunken shadows around her eyes that speak of suffering beyond the pangs of hunger.

She slides down, bracing herself against Ashvelon’s shoulder while he looks around the cave.

“You’ve made some alterations, I see,” Ashvelon comments to Varex. “I like it. Very roomy. Making space for a whole brood of hatchlings, I suppose?”

Varex bristles, and I stiffen.

“Ash, pet, I don’t think they’ve had that conversation,” says the sorceress. “Let’s tackle one difficulty at a time, shall we? I’m Thelise.” She smiles at me. “And you are?”

“Jessiva.”

“Delighted. Alright then, Prince—tell me exactly what you’ve done and how it happened.”

Varex glosses over the madness that drove him to the point of nearly tearing me apart; he emphasizes our lack of food instead. Then he describes how it felt when he swallowed the storm. Thelise asks several specific questions about his magic and how it normally operates.

“What do you think?” I venture when both she and Varex finally fall silent. “Will he be alright?”

Thelise takes a tiny flask from her bodice and sips from it before corking it again. “No idea.”

Irritation heats inside my chest. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Can’t, love,” she says. “I never studied the Mordvorren in depth. Wish I had—maybe I could have done something to turn it aside. But as you may have heard, spellwork can go terribly awry if it’s attempted beneath the Mordvorren’s shadow. While it hung over Ouroskelle, I couldn’t perform any magic at all. In fact, I was—not entirely myself. If the storm had continued much longer—” She clears her throat. “Let’s just say I’m grateful to you for stopping it, Varex.”

“As am I,” Ashvelon puts in fervently.

“There’s not much information about the origins of the storm, how it moves, or why it chooses specific areas,” Thelise continues. “What we do know is that it contains magic within itself—a twisted, toxic, arcane magic that no one today understands.”

“So you don’t know anything,” I say curtly. “If you can’t help him, just say that.”

Thelise’s gaze intensifies—not anger, but a stern sympathy. “I have no idea what containing this storm will do to your dragon, Jessiva. My gut feeling is that it won’t be anything good. It’s possible that he’ll be able to withstand its effects for a while, but eventually it will change him. I think that’s unavoidable. It might be absorbed by his void completely. It might be altered by living inside him, or it may change the form of his magic. It could try to burst out of his body and return to tormenting the world.”

“This island has endured enough,” Varex says. “I told Jessiva I plan to go elsewhere, to a distant island, and wait until my future reveals itself. She’ll be staying here.”

“I will not,” I snap. “I’m going with him, even if I have to hang onto his fucking tail the whole flight.”

Varex rounds on me, growling.

“Easy,” exclaims Thelise. “God, you dragons are so volatile, so unreasonable.” Ashvelon whimpers softly and she pats his nose. “Not you, pet. You’re a good boy.”

He rumbles his satisfaction, and Thelise turns back to us. “Jessiva should go with you. Tell us where you’ll be, and Ashvelon can check on you now and then. If something happens, Jessiva can be there to witness it and tell us what occurred. Consider this—that the information we gain through your experience could be important to destroying the storm once and for all.”

“So even if it kills him, you’ll learn something,” I say dryly. “What a compassionate point of view.”

Thelise rolls her eyes. “I’m trying to help you, love. The way I see it, you owe me for making him a handsome fucking treat in human form. Listen, if I could predict the outcome of this, I would. But there’s no precedent for a dragon swallowing a sentient magical storm—no charm or spell I can weave to help him control it. That’s something he needs to figure out himself.”

She turns to Varex. “One thing you should keep in mind—this storm is evil. It prides itself on destruction and it feeds off misery. When it tries to escape or conquer you, it will use your vulnerable points—longstanding resentment, gnawing pain, poisonous guilt, anything that has infested your consciousness for years. It will use that as a foothold.”

Varex shifts uncomfortably. “How do I defend against that?”

“The only way is to eliminate the foothold. Release the resentment, replace the pain with joy or pleasure, root out the guilt and let it go. It’s not enough to cope with the ruinous parts of yourself—you must purge them.” She vents a low, bitter laugh. “If I knew how to do it, I would tell you. But it’s something I’m still working on myself. And I suspect it’s different for everyone. Forgiveness or vengeance—who can tell which is best? I know people who chose each of those paths and found a satisfying peace at the end.”

Varex growls, unsettled. “I still do not believe Jessiva should accompany me.”

“She may be of help with this,” Thelise says. “Having someone who cares for you is one of the best ways to defend against an evil influence. A heartfelt conversation can unlock depths of yourself that you never understood. A good hard fuck can drive away the darkness for a while, but when you experience pleasure with someone who genuinely adores you—that’s a special kind of healing.”

Varex chuffs a hot breath, looking at me out of the corner of one amber eye. He doesn’t protest any further, so I say firmly, “I’m going.”

“Good.” Thelise shakes herself and tosses back her hair. “I’m glad that’s settled. There’s been far too much serious talk today, and I can’t bear it. Carry me away, Ash, will you? There’s a good dragon.”

“We’ll head for the Twin Fangs,” says Varex to Ashvelon. “Don’t tell the clan what’s wrong with me, I beg you. And if Kyreagan returns before I do, tell him I went hunting or surveying or something.”

“We’ll concoct a good solid lie,” Thelise replies, and Ashvelon bows his great head in confirmation.

“Fly safely, my prince,” he says. “Do not worry for the clan. You have sacrificed your own health and stability for the good of all. Take the time you need to recover. I have every confidence you will return to us stronger than ever.”

“Your words give me hope,” Varex replies, his voice tight with emotion.

Ashvelon and Thelise depart, leaving Varex and I alone in the uneasy silence. Things are not right between us, and I don’t like the feeling, but I don’t know how to fix it, either.

“Pack up anything you want to bring,” Varex says curtly. “Then get on my back.”

I stuff a few things in my bag, including soap and some cloths I took from the supplies that were parceled out among the women before the storm—supplies Thelise brought with her from the mainland. In one cloth I wrap up the remaining fish I cooked. The necklaces Varex gave me are still in my bag, along with the gold coins.

As an afterthought, I add a pair of pants, also scavenged from the things Thelise brought with her. They don’t fit Varex well, so he has only worn them occasionally, but he might need them.

As I settle onto the dragon’s back, he says, “I want you to know that I would take you back to the Elekstan capital if I could. But Rahzien’s theft of the Princess is an act of war against us, and any dragon flying too near that city could be in danger from Vohrain. My presence there could also jeopardize Kyreagan’s efforts to reclaim Serylla.”

“Not to mention the fact that you might vomit out the Mordvorren at any moment,” I say dryly.

“Then you understand why I can’t take you home.”

“I understand that you always have a list of viable reasons why I should stay with you.”

“I’m not making you stay with me now,” he counters. His body surges as he takes off from the cave entrance, sailing into the golden light of the afternoon. “I said you should remain on Ouroskelle. You’re choosing this.”

“I’m choosing you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his body shudders beneath me, and for a moment, I see a fiery glow from within him, shining between each of his scales, lighting the edges with red and gold. It’s a terrifying effect, one I’ve never seen before. He’s changing physically, and it frightens me.

The unfamiliar magic must scare him too, because his breathing quickens and his huge heart thumps faster. I can feel it beating deep inside his body.

Holding onto one of his spikes, I place my hand alongside his neck, near the wound he gave himself for my sake.

“Whatever happens, I’ll be there,” I tell him. “I’ll be with you.”