I try to focus on what he’s saying, but I’m hooked on his words:those they could bond with. “Are you saying my sister and Thrace are compatible? That they could bond?”
“I am saying,” he says, dropping his hand, “they have bonded.”
I rear back, brows drawing together as I struggle to understand. “They—what?”
“I saw their threads once before when I was visiting Dyeus not long ago. They were intertwined in a bond.”
“So what does this mean? Can she shift? Is she safe? Will the Sar Dyeus end her life for this?” The words come out rushed and I clutch my stomach as my insides churn with panic.
“Yes, she can shift, controlled, and as any draconem could.” Shock and a hint of betrayal twists sour and sharp in my nose. Ozias goes on. “Zhoric will do nothing. He needs Thrace, and before anyone or anything else, Thrace will keep your sister safe. That’s what bonded pairs do.”
He’s implying my sister comes even before the Sar Dyeus when it comes to Thrace. It makes sense now: Zhoric’s reaction the other night when I begged him not to harm my sister. It’s not that hewon’t. It’s that hecan’t. Which raises the question of what will happen to me when I bond with Zhoric.
I step back, and turn towards the open sky. Big, fluffy clouds drift lazily across the wide, pale blue, all the while a storm swells inside me. I want to kill him, but will I be able to? I toss the thought from my mind. Focus. I need to maintain focus. I can’t do anything for Ninon, for my sister, foranyone, until I find my elahi and master shifting. And until I do that, I won’t be able to get face to face with the Sar Dyeus and bond him to me, one way or another. I look over my shoulder. “Should we get started?”
Ozias splays his hand, new and unmarred, gesturing to the ground. I lie down, the same way I’ve meditated day inand day out. Only this time a new resolve fills me. A part of me has been afraid to allow this beast to take over my body, to become one with me. I’ve hated versions of this creature my whole life, but I’m beginning to understand it now. The depth of who and what I am. Maybe if I can tap into this place inside me, I can allow this bud of feeling for Ozias to take root—another thing to hold me here if my bond with the Sar Dyeus threatens to consume me. As my thoughts ready to spiral out of control, I tamp them down and collect them against my chest. Then I imagine lifting my hands and letting them go, giving them away to the gentle breeze.
I fall into myself. Here, I know I’m in control, of my destiny, of my life. It’s me against an ever changing world, and I will change with it. I will mold myself into an unrestricted being, one that can harness great power.
I’m so deep within myself that I almost don’t recognize Ozias’s turning figure. He may as well be the sun or the moon or the stars hovering above, wheeling across this vast plane of existence. Inside, I wander, looking around corners of my mind that I once thought were empty spaces, down tunnels and over mountains, crossing the rivers of my mind until, finally, finally, I find her.
She sleeps. Her breath bellows her ribs—no, notherbreath—mine, in the same rhythm with the rise and fall of my hands upon my stomach.
Dappled sunlight glistens across my scales, pale silvery gray. My head is nestled in the crook of my long tail. My mane swaying on a phantom breeze is a forest green so dark that it looks almost black, like moss in the shade. The beauty of her, of me, strikes so violently, that a sob wracks my body. She blinks, her eyes opening, the same, honey brown color I know so well boring into me. Hot tears bubble and fall down my cheeks in heavy rivulets.
You found me.
Yes.
She—noI—stand, curving my back in a luxurious stretch before ambling towards me, eyes focused, at once predatory and serene.
This must be what people see before we take their souls, I think, the thought coming to me unbidden.
Yes, she answers, I answer, like I’ve always known in my marrow who I was and what I was meant for. Only now I realize that knowledge slumbered with her.
Seeing myself in this way, as the dragon, sends a deep longing through me. Like I’m seeing someone I’ve missed for a long time, but couldn’t quite remember who.
My dragon stands so close to me that when she drops her head, she rests her great forehead against mine.
Home, I think.
I can’t stop the tide of tears that cascade down my face. This gesture, so familiar and comfortable, is what seals everything for me. That it’s true. I am draconem. That Ozias and everyone else here isn’t trying to shove me into a body or being that doesn’t belong.
This is me.
I am you.
Something stirs in my peripheral, but when I look, nothing is there. It’s then I remember my physical body. Ozias has stepped close, only this time, near my wounded thigh. My dragon looks at me, as if to ask,What will we do?
But it’s already done.
I blink a few times, shaking out of my inner self, only to realize I’ve moved my body. Unlike before when I took Ozias down for stepping too close, when I reacted blindly, this is different, like moving before I even knew my limbs were a part of my body. He’s pinned beneath me, my forearm pressing into his throat, his eyes wide, full of shock and awe. A drop of water lands on his cheek, on the freckle under his left eye. Not water—my tear. My physical body must have been crying, too.
I found her,I say, but my mouth doesn’t move.
Ozias’s eyes soften, like he heard me. A slow smile spreads wide across his mouth, exposing teeth white and straight and a touch dangerous. He pushes himself up, and I ease the pressure on his throat until my arm falls away. One of his hands cups my jaw, thumb swiping away a tearfalling down my cheek, the other hand snaking around my waist, holding me close.
I swallow past a lump in my throat. “I told you if you stepped that close to me again I would choke you out.”
