Kryth bounced his attention between the three of them then took another puff. As he blew out the smoke, he looked at Iskra.
“An interesting revelation. He should be an easy kill if he has no flame.”
“How does that work?” Esi asked. “I mean, don’t dragons have fire within them? So how does fire kill them?”
“He doesn’t mean an easy kill for me,” Iskra explained. “He will be easily killed by the others competing. The only way to kill a dragon is to pierce their heart.”
Esi furrowed her brows, as if Iskra’s destiny finally occurred to her. “Meaning he will be killing you… I had no idea the dragons were shifters this whole time.”
Iskra shrugged. No one did, but her whole existence had been leading to that moment. “We should discuss if we still plan to move forward with all this.” Iskra gestured at the air between them.
“Yes.” Esi nodded.
“No,” Bron urged, his arms extended toward Esi, as if he wanted to shake her. “No, Esi. It’s too dangerous. You should be the one at the party anyways.”
“I don’t want to lose any time with Dominik,” Esi pleaded.
“He’s right,” Iskra jumped in. “You should be at the party. It goes through the night, and I can’t be there during that.”
“Not even once?” That question was directed to Kryth. “You clearly have some magic within those bottles you house in front of your shop to transform yourself as you please.”
Kryth coughed into his arm. “Why would I allow that?”
“So there is a way?” Esi’s voice had pitched with excitement.
“I ask again: why would I do that?”
“Because the Gods love a show.”
Kryth laughed through his nose, and the sound made goosebumps rise on Iskra’s skin.
“That is true,” Kryth said. “They have shown me in my dreams that they have been delighting in the drama we’ve orchestrated.”
Iskra didn’t fail to notice that whenever Kryth spoke, Bron averted his gaze.
“See?” Esi said.
“One night,” Kryth warned.
Iskra whipped her gaze to Kryth. “How?”
But her question was drowned out by Esi’s cheers and claps. Bron looked like he wanted to chew Kryth’s head off.
“Oh, you’ll have the loveliest time. And the dress? Jasyn will fall to his knees,” Esi chirped. Esi linked her arm with Bron’s, and they began heading to the door.
Iskra turned to Kryth and repeated her question. “How?”
“The Gods work in mysterious ways. Just like I could change your hair and my own appearance, I could temporarily pause your shifting for a night. I don’t recommend doing it often, since it is painful, and it forces one to seek relaxing effects from other addictive ways,” Kryth puffed his pipe to exaggerate. “But you’ll be dead in a few weeks anyways.”
Emotions rushed through the surface. Iskra would have a night with Jasyn. She couldn’t believe it. Her body began to flame at just the thought of them being together for that long. And then she remembered—she wasn’t actually his bride. Esi was.
Iskra ran out the shop, thankful Kryth hadn’t stopped her, though the bluing sky indicated her time was limited.
“Esi!” she called, and the lady stopped and turned.
She let go of Bron, but he didn’t stray far.
“I—thank you. I’m sorry for all the lies.”
