“I doubt they’d agree,” she finally murmurs.
“What do you mean?”
“They wouldn’t be able to get back what was destroyed. The babies are forever lost to the rage of one. I would imagine the dragons who remember, if they’re still around, will always feel the sting of grief when thinking about what could have been.”
“I suppose so. Every dimension has tragedy. I imagine it’s much the same everywhere.”
She falls silent again, and I glance back at her. When her eyes meet mine, she pulls in a tight breath. “I don’t mean this to sound insensitive, but…demons have tragedies?”
I laugh, though there’s no humor in the sound. “Yeah, we do. A long line of them. Mostly, we just get angry when confronted with it. Some, like the dragons, mourn. Some fight. Others wallow and hide. Demons? We get pissed. We go to war. We decimate and demolish without a second thought. Being around a demon when they’ve been wronged, or worse, someone they care for has? Yeah, you don’t want to get in our way.”
“Protective assholes, got it,” she mutters, and I squeeze her hand.
Even if I get nowhere with her, at least she’ll know what she’s getting into the next time she encounters a demon. The thought has the possessive beast within me rising. I shove it down, not wanting to scare her. Because if she saw my true form, snarling and foaming at the mouth, she’d run screaming toward the dragons. She’d welcome Death through them regardless of their indifference to her. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past her to force their hand—paw? I have no idea how to label their body parts. I probably should have learned that when I was stationed here during my demon training.
“How much farther?” she asks, a slight whine to her tone.
“We could fly if you’d like to get there faster.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather not fly in pitch black. It was bad enough being thrown over your shoulder.”
I slow to a stop, still clutching her hand. “Wait. You can’t see anything? No lights at all?”
“Um, no? Am I supposed to?”
I hum, glancing around. The longer we walk, the brighter it’s become for me. The crevices bracketing our path aren’t as deep, the mountains beyond moving closer.
“Don’t know. I’m not sure a witch has ever been here.”
“Is that going to be a problem?” She attempts to pull away from me, and I grip her tighter.
“Dragons aren’t like what the humans think. They might look like some of the depictions, but they don’t really act like that.”
“Are we talking Dragonheart or Puff the Magic Dragon? Or like?—”
“I don’t know what any of those are, Mari. They have a strict code of ethics.” I tug her along once more. “Oh, and they communicate through your mind.”
She makes a sound in the back of her throat. “They can read minds?”
“Didn’t say that. I say they communicate by…speaking into your head. It’s awkward at first, but you get used to it. You just have to think about what you want to say. They won’t be privy to your secrets. They’re respectful like that.” I don’t tell her theycouldread her mind if they want to. They could break her completely. Dragons would never do that, though, but she doesn’t need another thing to worry about.
I turn sideways as a narrow passageway appears in front of us from the fog. I wonder if she can see it. She’ll be perfectly fine with her smaller frame. Some light must have filtered in for her since she’s tipping her head back instead of paying attention to the path in front of her.
“Mind your elbows,” I mutter.
She scowls, then holds her breath as we go through. When we step out into a field of bright red flowers, she gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth. I try to remember what it was like the first time I saw this sight. It was so long ago, I can’t quite grasp the feeling. Elation? Wonder? Awe? Probably all of those. They’re reflected on her face.
“How did…why…what are…”
“They’re lava flowers. You don’t have them topside, but they’re a lot like poppies, I suppose. Except they grow when lava flows under them. This area’s been like this for a long time.” I want to give her as much time as I can to admire the view. Except I don’t know how time is passing up there. I probably should have had her text Percy just in case, but I didn’t want her to change her mind.
All I could think of was bringing her someplace she’d never been before. Throughout this whole journey, she’s trusted me. Sure, she freaked out when we flew. And she’s snapped at me several times. I’m beginning to understand it’s a defense for her.She’ll push me away before I can do it to her. If I keep showing up—if I just stay—eventually she’ll accept I’m not leaving.
Until I do.
The thought hits me in the gut, and I drop her hand. She doesn’t notice. She’s too busy trying to figure out if the flowers will burn her. I could do this again and again if I get the same reaction from her. There are so many places I’ve been, things I’ve seen and experienced, while she’s been barely anywhere. I could show her.
I cross my arms as my magic crackles across my skin. My emotions are a rollercoaster, rising and falling with each thought. Half-assing things with her won’t go over well. Plus, she has issues she’s dealing with. She needs help, not someone to fuck her. No matter how much I want to.
