Callum’s laughter rang in the air, followed by his distant, “I’d finally be able to take Graeme’s advice and go fuck myself.” Callum reappeared at Georgie’s shoulder, his green eyes fixing on me with obvious delight. “Portia bean! Long time, no see.”
I groaned even as I couldn’t control my grin. “That nickname doesn’t even make sense.” No matter how many times I protested, Callum refused to come up with a better moniker.
“Sure it does. You were small and round like a bean when you were a baby.” He sniffed, pretending to cry as he swiped a knuckle under his eye. “Bloody adorable.”
“Thank you,” I said dryly. “Where’s Graeme?”
Mischief gleamed in Callum’s eyes. “Making dinner. They say ice dragons can’t be trained, but they’re wrong. You just have to find the right leash.”
Georgie reached up and covered his mouth with her hand. “Don’t let Graeme hear you say that. You fluster that poor man enough as it is.”
Callum’s eyes sparkled as he tugged her hand away. “Witchling, Iwanthim flustered.” Callum winked at her, and his eyes deepened to incubus emerald. “So does he. So do you, actually.”
“Go,”Georgie said, shoving him out of the frame. She turned a frazzled expression back to me. “I better go, too, Portia. If I don’t stop Callum from tormenting Graeme in the kitchen, I’ll end up eating burnt lasagna again. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Masking my disappointment, I offered a little wave. “Of course. Enjoy your dinner.”
“I will.” She blew a kiss. “And let me know how it goes with your dads.”
Her hologram flickered out. Silence fell, the sudden quiet a stark contrast to the laughter a moment before. Silver moonlight splashed over my bed. The itch started under my skin.
Cursing, I scrambled off the bed and went to the balcony. Pushing open the doors, I grasped the railing and stared out at the sea. Errant snowflakes swirled in a wild pattern, and the wind tugged at my hair with icy fingers. Far below, lights twinkled on the castle’s broad patio. Beyond it, the island sloped to the coast.
And beyond that…
The mainland waited.
My dragon snorted in my mind. Scales rippled down my arms.
“All right,” I whispered.Just this once.
Just one more time.
I stripped quickly, then rushed to my dresser and shoved my clothes in the top drawer. Then I darted to the balcony, twisted into smoke, and streaked toward the coast.
Chapter
Three
PORTIA
The mainland was silent except for the whisper of wind through the grass. I landed in the empty parking lot and shifted, my magic crackling as I solidified into flesh. A few snowflakes whipped through the air.
I jogged to the tree stump and pulled my clothes from their hiding spot. Goosebumps shivered over my skin as I hooked my bra and yanked my sweater over my head. Teeth chattering, I stepped into my underwear, then shoved my legs into my jeans and pulled them over my hips. The cold bit at my fingers as I tied my boots. The third time I fumbled the laces, I swore under my breath.
This is ridiculous.I was a creature of fire. Cold shouldn’t have been a problem. Except summoning my dragon was never a routine—or predictable—feat. If I called her, I couldn’t guarantee I could control her. So I gritted my teeth against the cold and finished my laces without her fire to warm me.
Moonlight bathed the stones in silver, making the ancient rock appear to glow. A glance around revealed I was alone, with no humans to witness my visit. No spies, either. My fathers probably didn’t think I was rebellious or stupid enough to disobey their order a second time.
So why are you doing it?a little voice in my head asked.
My throat went dry as I approached the stones, my boots crunching on the frost-covered grass. I didn’t have an answer for the little voice. I never had.
But the stones drew me. From the moment I’d stumbled upon them, the monoliths had called to something wild and unnamed inside me. They were peaceful in a way my parents’ court wasn’t. Someone was always coming or going at Castle Beithir. Dragon shifters petitioned my dad. Witches arrived to curry favor with my father. Supernaturals from all the Firstborn Races approached with offers, requests, and ideas for trade.
And, always, the shadow of the Curse hung over everything. Was it truly broken? Dozens of our males had found their females among the other Firstborn Races. They’d produced sons easily enough, but I was the sole female, and I’d nearly killed my mother on my way into the world.
Everyone wanted me to fix a problem that may or may not exist. But the stones demanded nothing. They were strong and silent. They’d endured for centuries, tall and stalwart against the elements.
