Now, as I lay here, my body floppy on the plush covers of the luxurious feather bed, I remember the daemon from my dreams. The first time he came to me as a child, only five or so, he slipped into my nightmares and offered me comfort after witnessing a particularly harrowing battle of voices and strange sounds between Mother and Father.
Resting my hands on my chest, I can feel my heart move faster and faster. The boom is now a crescendo as, out of the lair of my heart, image after image of a life happily forgotten work their way to the forefront of my mind. The drink, the anger, the fists, the bruises, the apologies. It all flies past my weary dragon, too spent to even lift her head.
Squeezing my eyes tight, a potent strength within my mind urges me to step further into the cave Argus continues to guard with hislife. Snuffling at my hand, he tries his best to urge me back, but I can seehim. Fury. His arms outstretched. Those pitch-black horns and glinting, starry eyes. Raven-feathered wings extend outwards, blocking the tunnel beyond. His mouth moves, but I can hear no sound.
The crazy thing is that I no longer feel anger at him in this waking dream state. Instead, the booming within my chest evens out, and my hand latches onto his.
He pulls me in tight within his embrace, bringing his wings around my body. Rumbling silky on a breeze, the words float to me, simple and protective, “I’m here. Don’t look, pet.”
Except they don’t sound like they are coming from inside my head.
My eyes spring open, and I shoot upwards, looking around the room with a wide stare. I could’ve sworn I heard him speak right next to me. Not from a memory but within this room.
As I look around the space, no disturbances can be found, and I drop back down into the comfort of the layered fur bed.
I awake to the sound of soft but brusque voices being harshly exchanged.
“I am your master, and you will do as I say, Gideon.”
“You haven’t been my master in a long time, Orion.” The last word is said with such venom that a shiver takes hold of my bones.Who is Orion?
Opening my eyes, I gingerly take stock of the world around me and find two very similar pairs of black, almost glassy eyes staring back at me.
“You slept well?” Surprisingly, this question comes from Fury, and my brow furrows.
“You care?” I am quick to remark.
“I care for all the creatures who live within my rule.” He steps closer, this time with more ease and precaution than last night as if I am a scared rabbit on the verge of fleeing out the nearest window.
Sitting up, finding myself on top of the covers, I notice the state of my clothes. My last change of clothes has not been since Haven. I am a mess with my dirt-stained ripped tunic and breeches. I stink with turns of sweat and travel, but sleep won out when my head hit the cloud-like comfort after Fury and Gideon left during the moonlight.
Fury seems to understand my train of thought as I try to smooth the dirt around my pants. “Here,” he says, picking up a silken, black piece of material.
Looking at the shiny material draped over his clawed-tipped hands, my mouth hangs open. Seeing as I am not about to reply anytime soon, Fury continues, “It’s a dress.” He holds up the material, and I see the shape of a floor-length dress come into view.
“I… I can’t wear that.” My judgements are out of my mouth within an instant of seeing the thinness of material and dip within the bust.
“I see no other options, and your current attire is barely fitting as an emissary to a God.”
Nearly choking on the air in my lungs, I ask, “What?”
“Gideon and I have come up with a plan,” he says, completely bypassing the word “God”.What God?My eyes dart over to the stoic-looking wolf, and my eyebrows raise. His expression is unchanged. I am happy to note, though, that he is nowfinallywearing clothes in the darkest of black, his hair is pulled off his face—well, mostly off his face, as a dark curled lock reaches for the corner of his scarred eye. Even his beard seems to be shorter.
“Come get out of those horrendous clothes.” Fury starts to reach for me, and I inch back.
“I said I can’t wear that, no matter your plan,” I hiss at him. The burn within is rearing its head, and it’s out for blood. I don’t know what is going on, but just seeing Fury in the flesh makes me want to bite.
That same menacing smile from before graces his soot-black lips. “If you need me mean, pet, I can be that, and so much more. You will wear the dress. No is not an option.” Velvet power drips from his fangs, which are now on show.
The sight of his fangs and his voice do something to me that makes my fire rage.Yes, yes, yes…
I huff, bringing my arms across my chest. “Fine. Only because I want out of these clothes.”
I want to obey, but I also want to fight. It is a weird and heady combination. After my strange dream last night, remembering some of the times Fury visited previously, confusion is a very real and strange medicine, taking hold of my wits around this daemon.
forty-six
Fury
