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FENROTHER

I dislike leaving my ancestral lands.

As a wyrmlet, I was at risk from all others within the Yeavering looking for a snack.

As I grew, as I took more game, they forced me back here, insisting I stay within my bounds.

Until the Faerie queen came calling and tempted me with notions of glory.

Yet there was only death.

And Wyrms know all about that already.

The queen may believe she is driving my desire to take Alice as my mate, but she is wrong.

It is not something I can stop, regardless of the true cost, to me, to my Alice, and to any wyrmlet she births.

Instinct is more powerful than any magic in the Yeavering, and now the course is set, nothing can change it.

Not even leaving the castle or my lands.

If Alice wishes to see beyond, then she may see, although should any male even look in her direction, I will remove his head from his body.

“You do know you’re growling, don’t you?” Alice says.

She has removed the long flowing garment and is, instead, in some close-fitting, light coloured pants, boots which reach up to her knees, a white shirt similar to mine, save for this one fits her better, and she has a jacket to match her boots.

I’m not sure why, but I like these garments.

I also like the garment I have in my pocket.

The item she refers to as knickers and which smell strongly of her.

Having it close means I can scent her any time I want, even if it does make my pizzle jerk into action.

I want to scent them right now, before I take her out of the castle.

It makes me growl. “I know.”

“If this is upsetting you, , we don’t need to go,” Alice says.

I contemplate her words for a while.

“I am not upset. I don’t want you to meet any other males.”

“I’d call that upset.”

“Upset is where I eat things,” I respond, considering the last time I went into a rage.

“I do not wish to eat anything. But I will remove body parts if I have to.”

“Okay…there’s quite a lot to unpack there. Perhaps if we could keep the limb removal to a minimum. I’d rather like my introduction to the Yeavering to be a bit less bloody if possible.”

“Not promising anything,” I growl.

Alice shrugs. “Best I’m going to get, so I’ll take it.”

She stares up at me.

I stare down at her.

Neither of us moves.

“So…” she says.

“So?”

“Shall we go?”

I can feel my lips lifting, but I think of the garment in my pocket and force myself not to snarl.

Getting back into my Wyrm form is a relief, and I hold out my hand to Alice, who steps into it nicely.

Actually, maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

Not if I get to be the Wyrm and she nestles in my palm the way she is right now.

“Ready?” I rumble.

“Ready,” Alice says confidently.

I swarm up the inner courtyard wall and onto the battlements before spreading my wings and beating into the cold air.

Mist sits over the moors, huddled in hollows and spreading its thin fingers into the heather as we rise up above it.

Alice grips at my claws, looking back at the castle, which sits in its own bed of cloud as if it has nested.

I swing around, dipping lower so I can trail a wing into the mist, sending swirls of it up and over me.

In my hand, Alice laughs.

She likes this. She likes being with me.

My heart booms, my lungs burning with the fire which is never there.

I climb sharply upwards until we’re above the clouds and the sun is shining down on us.

A sun which touches her hair, sending it translucent as the strands fly through my claws in the wind of flight.

Alice might have come into my life without my asking, but she is my everything, and should anyone challenge that, they will regret it.