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“It was dragons who told her then of the greatness of this world and the connection of the magic within us.” Kindred leaned forward. “She learned how witches, bonded with dragons, could also be bonded to mages.” Her eyes jumped to Remis. “How they could share power. Share minds.”
The silence that followed the statement was deafening until Meira and Remis broke it at the same time.
“Ridiculous,” Meira said.
“How?” Remis gaped.
Meira turned, staring at Remis as if his brain had suddenly dribbled right out of his ear. How? How? Could he not hear this story and take it for what it was? Falsities and myths? She doubted the secret to unlocking greater power was a mage like Remis.
Kindred shrugged. “Believe what you want, witch, but what I see here is an opportunity and a gift. I see something great that perhaps you knew in another timeline but is lost to you now.” Then she turned with a grateful smile to Remis. “Riders are bonded to their dragons. Connected in ways that even they do not fully understand. I suppose all it would take is for you to bond to that same pair as they have with each other.”
“Do not fill his head with stories that cannot possibly be true.” Meira grabbed at Remis’ arm trying to drag him away. They’d come here seeking answers and would leave with only more questions.
Remis pulled against her but gave in and allowed her to lead him to the tavern door.
“All stories contain small truths. All stories come from somewhere,” Kindred called after them.
Meira knew well enough that myths and legends could be true. She was one. A witch who shouldn’t exist with a curse that people had only whispered as cautionary tales to get their children to behave. She believed there was some truth to what Kindred spoke, felt it in her spirit, but to allow Remis inside her head? To give him access to her dragon? All to have him betray her? She’d never allow that to happen.
26
Remis
Remis hadn’t ever been one to consider fate before. Sure, he’d thrown the word around in a general sense, but he’d never actually believed that fate was real. Now that he was here with Meira, he was starting to wonder if there was actually something to it. Kindred had said that together—a mage, a witch, and a dragon—they could be more. He’d always dreamed of more. And now it was so close, the possibility of it actually felt tangible.
At his side, Meira was scowling as she dragged him along. She stomped over fallen decorations from the night before and led him through the village square and back down the now empty streets. Her hand circled his wrist, her long fingers firmly wrapped around him. Quietly, he pulled his hand back, letting her fingers interlace with his. And she let him. As though this was the most natural thing in the world.
What might it be like in her mind? Assuming what Kindred said was indeed possible. He could be connected to her, to her dragon, in ways that only stories allowed before. If fate was real then Meira was his.
All it would take is for you to bond to that same pair as they have with each other.
“How did you bond with your dragon?” he asked as they neared the edge of the village.
Meira stopped. She turned, her eyes finally catching on their hands and how Remis’ thumb stroked against hers. Air hissed through her teeth and she yanked her hand back, clutching it to her chest as though he’d burned her.
“Don’t listen to a thing that old bat said. No scale rider has ever bonded to both a dragon and a mage. That’s not real. And even if it could be, I certainly will not be the first to entertain it.”
“How many scale riders are witches?” Remis whispered, eyes scanning her face and those large green doe eyes. The splattering of freckles, so small they weren’t noticeable until one drew close enough, ran over the bridge of her nose and lightly across her cheekbones. They were darker now as she stood with her face in the sun. Wind blew her mousey brown curls over her shoulder, the width of her wild hair framing her face and begging for him to sink his fingers into it.
He could, he thought, weave the strands between his fingers and tug them at just the right angle so that her perfectly full mouth would be angled toward him. He’d see that glimmer of something in her eyes if he did, that something that lived in the torn place between hate and love.
“They can’t know,” she whispered back.
What must it be like to hide your true nature from the entire world? From the people you might consider family as a scale rider would? Witches were uncommon because witches were killed just for being.
Now one stood right in front of him, the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on, and she held herself back from all the power she could have only so she could exist in a place that despised her.
Anger tasted like ash on his tongue. All the hate he’d been taught burned away under her stare. They were alike more than he’d considered before. They were both surviving. Wishing and wanting, yes, but mostly surviving.
“Just think about it.” He tried not to feel too hopeful but she’d leaned in when he’d spoken. Every moment with her, his control dwindled further. Desperate and needy, he lifted his hand and let a finger trace over her jaw and then her full lips. Every sliver of skin he touched was like expensive silk. Her eyes drifted closed for only a couple of heartbeats. Then on a breath, her lips parted, those long lashes of hers brushed against her brow bone and she looked up at him. Meira sighed and turned toward the forest, leaving him wanting.
Together they started out of the village and back into the Deadwoods. Another breeze blew her cloak away from her and showed off the perfect curves of her body in all that damn leather. Remis bit his knuckle when he imagined getting on his knees before such a woman. He wasn’t sure that he loved her in the way she suggested they might one day but he was sure as hell attracted to her. In another world, she could have been someone he’d take home to bed and be done with. Or maybe there was something to this and one taste of her would be enough for him to never want anyone else.
As Yordway became hidden behind the curve of the path and the swell of trees and brush, Meira slowed, holding an arm out in front of him. She pulled a slip of ribbon from her wrist, gathered her hair, and tied it back. All the while her attention roved over the woods.
“We’re not alone,” she said softly, her hand falling to her sword.
Remis’ hand went to his belt, his ears straining to catch the sound of movement, while he watched for the shift of shadows under the bright midday sun. He saw nothing. Only heard the rustle of the wind and the call of a bird further away. Still, goosebumps rose across his flesh and the hair on the back of his neck lifted.
