And if all that wasn’t bad enough, he had the fucking pair bond to worry about. This whole situation was messed up enough without adding some psycho mating bond into the equation. He’d seen all too well what it had done to Khaled, the man who’d raised him, and he and his mate had never actually completed the bond. Even so, life was torture for him without her, a living hell.
He’d vowed to never make himself vulnerable like that. Not when every day was a battle for control as it was.
He closed his eyes and groaned; the hurt on Aelia’s face when he’d pulled away from her burned into his memory. But how the hell could he explain?
Sorry I pulled away, Aelia. You were perfect, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. But I’d really appreciate it if we kept a good horse’s breadth between us from now on. Only, I’m absolutely terrified of fucking you because my other personality wants to dominate you to an extent that verges on cruelty, and it seems like when it comes to you, I’d be completely unable to stop it. Oh, and if you hate every second of it, too bad, because afterwards you’ll be tied to me forever by a magical bond I’ll be powerless to walk away from.
No amount of good phrasing was going to make that sound any less insane.
Burying his face into both his hands, he groaned again. He was so fucked.
He didn’t even know a lower artemian could form a pair bond; he’d never heard of such a thing. They were solely, exclusively formed between immortals; the Dragon’s best-kept secret.
Aelia had no idea how close she’d come to being tied to him forever. It would have been so easy to keep going, to give in to that magic, to make her his…
He snarled, screwing his face up at the sky in frustration. Just what he needed, another dangerous part of himself to control.
Maybe if they hadn’t been attacked, he could have handled the situation better. Maybe he wouldn’t have left her alone, undoubtedly confused and probably frightened. Anger, hot and heavy, swept aside the tangled mess of his thoughts, aimed entirely at himself.
What a fucking arsehole.
He pushed to his feet, back in control of his legs once more, and jogged back to the camp.
Aelia was already buried deepunder several blankets, her back to the fire and the bodies he had yet to move. There was no way she was asleep, but he got the message loud and clear; she had no interest in talking to him.
It was just as well, really, because he wasn’t ready to face her yet–not even close. He turned his attention to the attackers, the beast creeping to the forefront once more at the sight of them. The audacity of them, to dare to attack him, to attack Aelia.
Magic seethed underneath Keeran’s skin, stretching it so thin it felt at risk of tearing. He shouldn’t have gone this long without Shifting. It added another layer of volatility to the emotional turmoil he was drowning in.
Anger in its purest form lowered that familiar red haze over him, even as he dragged those it was directed at away from the camp by their already stiffening limbs.
Let the scavengers have them, let them tear the flesh from their bones and fertilise the soil with everything they had once been. They deserved far worse for what they’d done to Aelia.
Keeran would have been all too happy to deliver a more fitting punishment had she not been looking; it had been all he could do to kill them quickly. Especially the last one, the one who had actually laid his filthy hands on her. Had she not been there, he would have taken his time, savoured every second of pain he could inflict before their pathetic mortal hearts gave out.
The red mist thickened around him the more he thought about it, and the air around him shimmered with the threat of magic. He gritted his teeth and controlled his thoughts, the muscle in his jaw twitching with the strain.
When the last of the bodies was dumped unceremoniously on the pile, he walked back to the camp with his shoulders braced as if walking into a strong wind, the last thread of his control fraying by the second.
The flames brightened at his return, reaching up reassuringly as he stormed past. They caressed the fingers he lowered to them, but even their touch could not bring him back, not this time. He needed to Shift. Now.
To his relief, Aelia had sunk into a deep sleep, the slow rhythm of her breathing music to his ears.
Grabbing his sword from where he’d stashed it in his pack, he spun on his heels and ran.
He ran like he hadn’t let himself run in far too long, the sweetness of pushing himself to his full potential a small release in itself. The light of the moon was buried deeply behind the clouds, but his steps were as surefooted as they were silent as he tore away from Aelia, as far away as he could before he gave in to the magic.
Alone, in the vast expanse of the plains, it washed his soul clean. His blood bubbled with the intensity of it and he sighed, his eyes closing at the release. When he opened them again, it was through new eyes.
Every living creature held its breath, the night itself seeming to shudder at the Dragon it beheld.
Keeran kneaded the ground with his talons, relishing the power in every sinew of his being for one moment of unadulterated bliss. He unfurled his wings, so black they showed the night what true darkness was made of, swallowing any light that dared to show itself in his presence.
He leant back into his haunches, the muscles of his thigh bunching under him as he launched himself into the sky.
There, defying gravity, defying the world, he felt free. Liberated by the very part of him that he held prisoner, closely guarded and out of sight from the rest of the world.
It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for.
