Page 60 of Whispers of Wisteria (The Garden of Eternal Flowers #5)

“What?” he said. “You’re not going to jump out too, are you? There’s no need for such theatrics.”

It wasn’t theatrical. It was just… necessary.

My legs shook as I moved to the edge, my grip tight on a hanging belt.

“You hurt him,” I said, looking back at Jameson.

Jameson’s eyes widened before he caught himself. “You should be more worried about yourself.”

I looked to the floor, trying to push it all away. My hands stopped shaking. No more fear. No more hesitation.

“I don’t care,” I said, ears buzzing. I was leaning over the edge, only anchored to the plane by my feet and the belt. The wind felt violent against my skin, and my braids whipped around me.

Somewhere inside me, I was screaming.

But it didn’t matter. “I won’t lose anyone else.”

Then I let go.

It took me fast. The floor was ripped from under me as the world tilted.

Then, there was nothing but sky and cloud. The wind threatened to crush me, and the air roared. And for one terrifying second, I couldn’t breathe.

I… didn’t see him.

Was I too late?

But then I spotted him, falling in an ungraceful heap, some distance away.

No, no, no…

I had to catch up.

I could do it. My writings to myself wouldn’t be a lie.

I was Mu. The wind and sky were mine.

My shoulders burned, and then I was no longer being thrown. I moved faster now, but the pressure was gone. The distance between us closed rapidly.

Titus’s body was limp, and he was unconscious. He might have a concussion—he was bleeding from his head.

But that wasn’t important right now.

I reached for him, and as soon as my fingertips brushed across his wrist, I pulled in closer.

We were still falling—he was too heavy, and my muscles ached from effort—but we’d slowed down.

But it wasn’t enough.

He was a dragon. They were invincible. And he had wings, even if one was torn.

He had to fly.

Wake up.

My words—which had briefly returned to me—were gone again. But it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d spoken anyway; there was no way I’d be heard above the raging winds. My fingers hummed as my eyes burned.

We weren’t going to make it out of this alive.

Please wake up.

He had to, otherwise there’d have been no point in pushing him out of the plane.

Maybe he should stay asleep. His wing was torn, and he himself said he couldn’t fly.

But when had he last tried? Shifters were supposed to have enhanced healing abilities. So…

Why wasn’t he healing?

‘It’s not a normal injury.’ Mu’s words rang through my mind. His voice was clear now, closer than he’d ever been. ‘Jin believes it’s his penance.’

What?

My vision blurred, turning dark, before suddenly, I was no longer falling.

I was no longer me.

The light of the red dawn touched the thousands of bodies scattered throughout the valley. I rose above it all, taking to flight to account for the fact that I was both gravely injured and hopelessly outnumbered.

Never before, in our three thousand years of being, had I ever been so close to death.

I could not afford to die.

Our work was not yet complete.

They called us immortal—a gift we’ve bestowed upon our chosen leaders of our realms.

But that wasn’t the same as being untouchable.

We could be wounded, and with enough damage, eventually killed. Our existence was bound as one, and if one fell, the others would fade within the span of a human lifetime.

As my fingers began to numb, and I strained to keep to the air while our enemies gathered below, I knew this would be the moment our immortality ended.

No one, not even Jin, whose form I could faintly see soaring closer from the mountains, would arrive in time to prevent it.

My bow slipped from my fingers as my vision turned gray. A new volley screamed through the sky, tearing into me and shredding me further, but I felt no pain.

Sleep called, and my vision tunneled to the earth. My heart ached.

Tu, Huo, Shui… I would never see them again. And Jin wouldn’t make it before the end.

They would rage. Huo would burn worlds. Shui would revel in blood. Tu would lose his restraint. But Jin…

Jin would carry guilt forever. He’d shoulder the blame until it broke him.

And they’d all live for a time without me. Alone.

We were never meant to be alone.

I fell, rock and sand rushing to meet me, as my chest grew heavy. We were not finished. We couldn’t leave our children, our people. I didn’t want to return to the feeling-less void.

I could not abandon them.

The earth split below me as something answered. An old magic, more ancient than the gods and goddesses, had responded to need.

Roots tore upward and branches burst into the air. A tree rose through drought-cursed soil and caught me before I shattered. Its branches surrounded me until I could no longer feel the wind.

The last of my power spilled outwards, reaching through the leaves to the sky. It sought them—Jin, Huo, Tu, Shui. It reached even to our Bond and enclosed it in a golden light.

We would die.

But it would not be the end. Not anymore.

I exhaled as the bark closed around me. I would not leave them. Even though forms might change, and as mortality touched us—

Our souls would meet again.

I gasped as my eyes flew open. We were still falling, the wind still slamming against my face. I still held on to Titus.

I was still me, Bianca.

But the humming under my skin was older.

Why now?

‘Jin blames himself for our end,’ Mu said. ‘He was wounded that day and hasn’t allowed himself to fly since.’

There it was. That word.

Allowed.

My thoughts turned sharp in realization. Had he seriously been feeling sorry for himself this whole time?

That idiot.

I refused to die for such a stupid reason.

I glared at the unconscious dragon. He said I was his mate—he wouldn’t stop obsessing over it. What, then, was this unacceptable behavior?

We were supposed to have dragon-fae babies and do mate things. I had no idea what that entailed, but unless he woke up and got over himself, the only future we’d have was as splattered remains on the ground.

But…

It was my fault too. He’d been trying to be with me, and I’d been running away.

There was no reason to be scared.

“I’m sorry.” The words flowed effortlessly from me now. I watched his jaw, trying not to look at the looming horizon. “I really did want to be your mate.”

And this time, the thought didn’t fill me with dread. For the first time, I actually wanted it.

A pulse rolled through the air and Titus’s crimson eyes popped open. “Let go.”

His features were already sharpening from the early stages of a transformation. So even though I had no idea what might happen, I loosened my death grip on his arm.

He was pulled from my fingertips, and the wind dragged as his form elongated and grew. He changed from man to dragon in an instant, but by the time his giant wings uncurled into the air, he was already out of my reach.

We were still falling, almost to the point of no return. And he still wasn’t flying.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I didn’t want to die.

What kind of fairy fell to their demise? Out of all the injustices I’d suffered, I’d never felt more cheated than this moment. Folklore had promised me the ability to fly.

And I hadn’t taken my vengeance yet.

I crashed into something hard and did not splatter into pieces. It was solid under my hands, and I instantly held onto the warmth.

I opened my eyes, and I tightened my grip around the dragon’s long neck. We were still in the air, but it was now controlled. Titus’s wings arched toward the sky above us.

He was flying.

My vision wavered as my dark thoughts began to lighten.

He’d done it. It’d worked.

Lucky him. At least one of us had wings. I’d been lied to by myself. That was a different kind of betrayal.

Titus looked back at me and met my eyes.

‘Look behind you,’ his voice echoed in my head.

I was hesitant; the pressure against my back had been a mild annoyance before—easy to ignore in the face of impending death—but now it was growing into something more concerning.

So I looked.

Sage and gold caught the light, rippling like sunlight on water. Thin veins webbed the translucent panes, each edge tipped in a faint shimmer, as if dusted with stardust. My mouth went dry.

I shivered, and the wings—my wings—fluttered. And yet… I barely felt them. It was as though they belonged to someone else entirely.

I reached over my shoulder and touched the edge of the fragile-looking appendages. They were surprisingly soft and more solid than expected.

But how would they work? They didn’t seem to be made for flying.

Titus dropped from under me, moving so quickly I hadn’t even had time to try to hold on.

He’d thrown me off!

My heart leapt into my throat as I was suddenly free-falling once more. Was this revenge for pushing him off the plane?

I only fell for a second before the air calmed.

I opened my eyes, looking for Titus.

The dragon soared through the air, stretching as he split his attention between me and the land below. The pressure against my shoulder blades increased, but this time I didn’t have to look.

I was flying, somehow. It really wasn’t the time nor the place to worry about the logistics.

All that mattered was that it worked.

Nice.

Suddenly, my adrenaline dropped, and so did my focus. My thoughts wavered and my head spun.

I was falling into darkness, and there was no use trying to fight it anymore.

An ear-shattering roar pierced through the sky, and the air stopped. I’d been caught in Titus’s soft, yet claw-like, talons, and the air lurched forward. My head fell back as my vision turned black.

‘Wake up,’ Titus ordered.

But I couldn’t anymore. I was so tired.

‘We’re almost there,’ he said. ‘Julian will help you. Don’t give in.’

I wanted to listen. I tried.

We were moving fast—the wind whipped at me until my skin felt raw—but I couldn’t stay on the surface any longer.

A roaring cry sounded as I let myself drift away.