Page 29 of Magic Claimed
“It wasn’t your fault,” I told her firmly. “The fae killed his mom. Not you.”
“But if it weren’t for me…”
“Look, I know that’s how he sees it,” I insisted. “But that’s his pain talking. You were an abandoned kid trying to survive, and he’s wrong to blame you.”
“I know,” Kira whispered, staring after him in the darkness. “But I can’t fix it. I feel like we could be friends. Family, even. But he doesn’t want that, and there’s nothing I can do.”
And nothing was harder for Kira than feeling helpless. She needed to be busy. Active. Fixing or helping.
But sometimes hearts couldn’t be fixed or helped. Only waited for.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could make it better.”
She shook her head. “Wecanmake it better. If not for Shane, then at least for Jeremiah. Let’s make sure he comes home safely, and that no more kids are stolen from their moms. No more parents have to wait up night after night wondering if their kids are okay. And no more monsters like Elayara or Blake get to ruin lives and break families without consequences.”
It was the same mission I’d chosen for myself when I’d decided to embrace the magic I’d been given. Only now, I liked to think I was stronger. Wiser.
And I wasn’t doing it alone.
Hopefully that meant Jeremiah had a fighting chance—to survive and make it home, before this world broke him the exact same way it had broken me.
EIGHT
We movedup the front walk together to where Monique awaited us on the porch.
“Thank you for coming.” Her words seemed welcoming, but her stance appeared tense and impatient. “Where do you want to start?”
I turned to Kira. “Your nose would be better than mine. How do you feel about shifting here?”
“Should be fine,” she confirmed. “I’m small enough for most indoor spaces, as long as it’s okay with Monique.”
“I don’t care what you have to do,” Monique said firmly. “Just bring my son home.”
“May we step inside?” Kira requested. “I just need a moment of privacy for my shift.”
Monique led the way into her beautifully restored home and pointed Kira to a side room. My friend vanished for a moment, I heard the rustling of clothing, and then she bounded out again, this time in her dragon form.
My mouth dropped open, and Monique let out a quiet, shocked curse.
I knew Kira was a dragon, of course. I even knew her shifted form was far smaller than normal, due to the magic-suppressing bracelet she’d worn for most of her life. But actually seeing her…
She was only about ten feet long from nose to tail and covered in shimmering coppery scales. Her form was sleek and balanced—built for speed and agility rather than battle—and her wings were tucked neatly against her body.
“Okay,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s start smelling.”
And that was the other weird thing about Kira—her dragon could speak, and not just telepathically.
“Upstairs,” Monique breathed, her voice emerging with a bit of a squeak as she stared at Kira. “First door on your right.”
“On it.”
The dragon bounded away, and small as she was, the stairs creaked beneath her weight.
“Can she…” Monique seemed to stop herself.
“It’s okay to ask,” I told her. “There’s nothing wrong with being curious, and I’ll tell you if it’s something she wouldn’t want me to share.”
“Can she breathe fire? Could she accidentally…”
