“Monsters take many shapes, my son. There are those in our heads. Some we become. Others we run from. Most we bury, so those we hold dear aren’t hurt.” Mother bent and kissed my forehead. Nothing felt but bone-chilling cold. Then she whispered in my ear, “You both need to change. It’s okay to be weak when you’re broken. Banish your monsters together, not alone.”
I shuddered hard, and my chest cramped painfully. “We will be better for it?”
“I can tell you this much. You certainly won’t be the villains in your own love story.” Mother chuckled softly and glanced again at the dragon king, giving him a steely-eyed, pointed look. “You…behave yourself. I’ll be watching.”
Then she disappeared.
King Elon abruptly started coughing in great racking heaves, his shoulders quaking with each breath he fought for, spitting many pieces from his mouth.
Running my fingers through my hair, I closed my eyes and calmed my heart before I crawled the three paces to my soul mate. I sat like my mother, watching the gorgon king balance his mind and body while I absently picked twigs from my love’s hair and tossed them aside.
Reptilian, molten green eyes blinked in confusion at the dragon king and me, appearing exhausted and sick to his stomach. “I think I saw…” He blinked once more at me—at my stricken expression—before his gaze widened in horror, his intelligent mind deciphering it hadn’t just been him. The King of Gorgons promptly lost the contents of his stomach all over the ground before him. He choked and coughed, “Fuck.”
My thoughts exactly.
Distressingly so.
My jaws clenched, and I politely looked away from him as tears started streaming down his face, the gorgon king staring at absolutely nothing in startled shock. Having one’s worst memory not only seen butfeltwas not an experience most would wish to share with the enemy.
If you lived long enough, your worst experience was typically Fae damneddevastating.
I hadn’t known what I had experienced from their eyes except for my own memory. We all had monsters in our closets.
None of us were clean. We were all liars.
We were…survivors…of life.
Minnie began to wake, promptly coughing and choking out mud. I rubbed her back and did as my mother had, telling her to breathe slowly, to get her bearings before she moved too much. Red-rimmed, golden eyes peered up at me from the ground. Her chest brutally shook as clarity entered her gaze, understanding that I knew. I knew all the lies she had told; she knew the horrible lie I had. All in the name of protecting each other. She bit her lower lip with one fang, and her features slowly pinched as she lifted her chin high and sat up to face me.
My smile was small in the face of her strong stubbornness and fortitude. Gently, I ran my thumb down her jaw in the silence surrounding us. I whispered, “We will talk when we get home.”
Her gaze was purely mulish. “No, we will not.”
I leaned forward and stared directly into her gaze, uncompromising in my words and tone, prepared to lock our elven asses in the dungeon if necessary.This Fae shit was going to get fixed.I breathed deeply, “I promise you, my love. We will.”
Wariness—and a flash of fear—darted through her golden, expressive eyes, but ever so slowly, she nodded in agreement.
I kissed her lips softly before I pulled back and rolled my shoulders, working the stress out of my bones as best I could. Examining the others around us, I cleared my throat and asked respectfully, “How much time do you two need?”
Still not speaking, the dragon king waved an irritated hand, not looking in my direction but indicating he was ready.
King Elon stood shakily on his feet and ran his hands over his white attire in a useless, nervous gesture to clean the grime off himself. He spoke with a guttural hiss, “I’m ready when you are.” He stalked away from his sick, not meeting anyone’s eyes, and added, “I feel obliged to mention everything was paid back.”
“I didn’t ask,” I stated clearly, not pushing that topic. Nor did I mention the ghastly parental abuse or that he’d claimed the crown the hard way. “Everything we saw and felt was a gross invasion of privacy. Best not to linger on it, I say.”
“Agreed.” King Elon grunted—and brushed his hands down his clothing once more. He cast his attention around us, inspecting the trees, and said, “This is not where we were attacked.”
“No, it’s not,” a gruff male voice said to my right. We jerked in that direction, weapons drawn, and pointed at the clear forest before us. “The roots spit you out here. On my home, dammit all.”
“Show yourself,” King Ula growled. His solid golden gaze scanned over the scenery, and his nostrils flared wide, inhaling heavily. Sniffing once and then twice, his nose wrinkled as he muttered, “I fucking hate gnomes.”
“And I hate dragon shifters, so there’s that. Especially, the missing heir to this forsaken land.” A gnome stepped out from behind a tree twenty feet deep into the forest. The Fae was only as tall as my waist, not large as his strong voice might indicate. He wore a red pointy hat, a black jerkin over black breeches, and a thick red belt around his substantial waist. Despite looking like someone who’d aged a long time with his craggy, dark face and beard of snow-white bristly hairs, his biceps were bulky with strength, and he moved with fluid grace. He tapped a dagger on his palm, scowling straight at the dragon king. “It’s been a long time, King Ula. You were a pain in the ass years ago and haven’t changed.”
King Ula hesitantly lowered his sword, repeatedly blinking at the gnome. “Madden?”
“The one and only.” The gnome's red hat tipped back and forth as he examined each of us. “Who are your friends?”
The King of Dragons propped his sword on the ground, pointy end down, and leaned on it. Posture aloof, he hedged carefully, “‘Friends’ would be a very loose term.”
