Page 45 of Realm of Wind and Vines
He lets out something between an amused huff and an exasperated sigh. “Always great talking to you.”
There is an expression I can’t read on her face, and for a moment, I’m worried that she was insulted by the friendly jab.But then she just lets out a small sigh and says, “I will be seeing you, Shadow of Death.”
And with that, she turns around and walks back into her forest.
“Alright, we need to get going,” Draven says as he turns back to us. “It’s almost time to meet up with the others.”
“Yes,” Orion agrees. “And I need to get back to Haldia before the ugly scar on my thigh becomes permanent.”
Draven rolls his eyes but just starts striding out onto the grass without commenting.
Black smoke explodes into the air as he shifts into his dragon form. With an impatient growl at us, he moves his tail into position. We all hurry up it and take a seat in the same place as last time.
My stomach lurches as Draven launches into the air. His massive wings boom around us, and winds rip at my hair and clothes, as he flies away from the Purple Clan’s homeland and back towards the Unseelie Court.
I spend the entire flight alternating between a renewed sense of hope and an even more crushing sense of despair.
The fact that I’ve managed to make Draven feel something other than hatred towards me, even if just briefly, makes that tiny spark of hope in my chest flutter. He was jealous when I danced with Orion. And he wanted to kiss me, desperately, outside in the woods afterwards. It’s proof that his real feelings are there. Buried deep inside him.
But at the same time, the hatred isn’t going away. No matter how furiously he kissed me in that cave or how jealous he was in the tavern or how badly he wanted to kiss me again outside, it doesn’t change the fact that he also still hates me with every fiber of his being. That flame of hatred that I put in his chest is still there. It’s still as strong as ever. I even checked this morning just to make sure.
Regardless of what I do, I can’t remove that hatred, which isthe source of the problem. And that awful knowledge, and the crushing sense of hopelessness that comes with it, is eating me alive from the inside.
When we at last land outside the wards around the Unseelie Court, I feel so restless that I’m tempted to reach out with my magic and create an emotion in someone’s chest just so that I can feel that comforting sense of pleasure that comes with it. But I thankfully manage to suppress the urge. And besides, we are the only four people out here on the plains anyway.
“Home at last,” Orion says. A satisfied smirk, tinged with the hint of a threat, blows across his lips. “Or at least, I am. Would you like me to invite you inside the wards as well, or would you prefer to sleep out here on the ground?”
Isera cuts him a knowing look. “You bet a night in your castle on two minutes. You lost.”
To my surprise, he lets out a short laugh of approval. “Fine.” He flicks his wrist nonchalantly. Then a mocking expression settles on his features as he looks Draven up and down. “You all need proper baths anyway.”
Draven flashes him a taunting smile back. “Aww, you got a little blood and dirt on you? Should I find you some pearls to clutch, princeling?”
“Should I find you some mud to roll in, beast?” he retorts.
Next to me, Isera almost smiles but then suppresses it at the last moment. I just shake my head at all of them.
We thankfully manage to get through the next half hour without killing each other while we wait for our other companions.
At last, two black dragons become visible across the plains.
Galen, Lyra, and Alistair.
I smile.
Let’s see how many dragon clans we’ve managed to get.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The door to the elegant dining room bangs open. I jump and whirl around, thinking that we’re about to get attacked. We’re not. Well,I’mnot about to get attacked at least. Someone else is, though.
Amusement gleams in Orion’s eyes as he watches Isera storm into the room with a murderous expression on her face. A garment in dark blue and silver is clutched in her fist, and she shakes it in the air before throwing it at Orion’s chest.
“What the hell is this?” she demands.
The ball of rich blue silk and gleaming silver threads hits Orion in the chest and then flutters down to land on the floor before his feet. He doesn’t glance down at it, though. Instead, his glittering eyes are fixed on Isera.
Amusement plays over his dangerously beautiful face. “It’s a dress.”
