Book 2: Alexander
Chapter 1
“And look at your life. Look at your life through heaven's eyes.”
She extended her long leg, her body a perfect silhouette, and then launched into the lively dance routine the choreography called for. She didn't even have to think about what she was doing, her muscle memory taking over. Sometimes, Ariel was stunned as to how she did anything at all. She had been dancing for so long that it appeared she absorbed choreography by osmosis, and wasn’t even aware of that she was doing half the time, until the music started.
Normally, she danced as a strict ballerina, usually prima donna, leading the pack with her rebellious moves. Ariel had been a ballerina since she was nine years old. On stage, she was the uniform ballerina, with her fiery red hair pulled into a bun, her tutu always in perfect condition, and her face serene. She had even taken more gigs in musicals lately, enjoying the difference between the musical world and the strict world of ballet. Off stage, she was rebellious, her cleavage exposed, her green eyes sparkling, and her long fingers tracing flirtatious lines on men's chests. Ariel could have been a model, a high-end escort, an executive–basically, anything that she wanted. She loved dancing, but she also knew that she couldn't do it forever. Luckily, she already had another plan for her life.
When the production of Prince of Egypt took its final bow, Ariel was quick to head backstage to her dressing room. She didn't mind leaving in her makeup, but she certainly didn't want to leave on the conservative costumes that they made her wear. She was much happier to change into a high-low skirt and tube top. She let down her hair, curls falling around her shoulders, and glanced in the mirror. Her milky white shoulders were well toned, and her long legs now had shoes that laced up to her knees. She was a goddess, on or off stage.
“You're in a rush,” her dressing-room mate, Tara, said to her as she sauntered back in. “Hot date?”
“Sure,” Ariel replied. “You could look at it like that. Two days off, I'm going to use it well.”
Tara wiggled her eyebrows.
“Who is it?”
“None of your business,” Ariel replied, although she smiled.
“Is it that Alexander bloke?” Tara asked.
“Maybe,” Ariel replied casually, as she slipped her jewelry back on.
“You better be careful,” Tara said. “People might think you're serious about him, the way things have been going.”
“We're not serious,” Ariel replied. “We just have an understanding.”
“Right,” Tara said. “An understanding.”
“See you on Wednesday,” Ariel picked up her bag that cost more than a week's salary, and sauntered out the door into the lobby.
The man in question was waiting for her in the lobby with a well-tailored suit on his back, and a smile on his face.
The first time she had laid eyes on Alexander, she had been stunned. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Lean muscles and a handsome face, with well-defined features–he had caught her eye from the moment he walked into a room. But what really attracted her was the flash of yellow she saw in his eyes, especially when he was angry. She loved it when he was angry, his head held high and his face regal. He looked like a king, and that was because he was one. Alexander was King of the Dragon Lords, far away on the planet of Umora.
It wasn't long into their torrid, steamy affair that she had figured it out. But Ariel herself wasn't an ordinary human either. She was a carapace, the reverse of a supernatural creature. With her mere presence alone, Ariel could suck the supernatural powers from the world around her. Everyone was reduced to human while Ariel was around. Some of them didn't like it; some of them thought that she and her kind were too dangerous to live. But Alexander loved the burden of being a dragon shifter taken away from him. He loved kissing her and feeling the supernatural senses melt to nothing–feeling nothing but her hands and her lips. She didn't believe in love, and he didn't either. However, they were of mutual benefit to each other. He was addicted to the feeling she gave him, and they got along well.
But when she was 18 years old, almost 19, he had repaid the favor she paid him nightly. Ariel's British work visa had run out where she was dancing. He had British citizenship by way of magic and had married her in a civil ceremony. It had been nothing but functional, and they didn't talk about it with anyone. Their marriage was of no consequence; he was sure that he'd enjoy her company either way. On Earth, he escorted her to fancy events, took her home from shows, and reveled in her arms. On Umora, she served as his queen when she pleased, sitting beside him on the throne, enjoying a life of luxury.
She had no family, left in foster care as a toddler, but she loved his family. He had two younger brothers, Nicholas and Cole. Her secret brothers-in-law were mischievous princes, but they were each finding their way in life since their father had died. Cole had married a human, and Nicholas was happy with his position as regent. Ariel loved her life as queen as much as her life as a dancer. She didn't judge anyone; she came and went as she pleased, and she took no sides in any conflict. Ariel had always looked out for herself.
Late at night, however, she also knew that the weight of the crown was driving into Alexander's very soul. He hadn't ever anticipated the throne. There had been an older brother, Peter, who had always hated what he was. Peter, at least the story that Ariel heard, walked around with a dark cloud over him. One day, he disappeared in the blink of magic, into the darkness that dragons go when their souls cannot go on. No one had ever returned from there, and so the throne went to Alexander.
“Hi,” she said, standing up on her tip toes to kiss him. She was tall, but he was taller. “How was that?”
“You were ravishing, as always,” he replied, enjoying the kiss. “I'm glad I got to see it. A bit different from your usual programming.”
“Not sure I'll stick with it,” she said. “But it was something different. Did I look hot?”
“You looked beautiful,” he was always classy, always thinking about his words before he spoke. English did not come easily to him, although Ariel was completely fluent in the dragon tongue by now.
“Oh, wasn't trying for that,” she teased him. “Are we going right away?”
“We can, if you want,” he said. “Although, if you want dinner, I won't object to another hour or two away.”
“Mm,” she said, as they headed towards the door. The plan was to return to Umora tonight and to stay with him for the next two days while the theater was closed. Alexander looked tired today, and she could see that he could use a break. She hated to bring up the topic she wanted to discuss, but it had been weighing on her mind all night. “Or we could stay tonight and head to City Hall in the morning.”
“City Hall?” he said, his mind turning. He sighed. “Ariel, we are not getting a divorce. I don't know why you keep asking. It's not as if I keep you under lock and key. Is there someone else you're desperate to marry?”
“No,” she insisted. “But being married, even in secret, does not vibe with my style.”
“Your style,” he rolled his eyes. “I just…it’s of no consequence to you, aside from some paperwork. If you don't want to come back with me, it's nothing.”
“I do,” she said. “But that's not the point.”
“Ariel,” he sighed, running a hand over his face. “Can we talk about this later?”
She saw his eyes flash, and she stopped walking.
“What is it?”
“It's nothing,” he answered, but she knew him better than that. They had been together for 15 years, on and off, and she could read him better than a book.
“Obviously, it is,” she said, and bumped gently against him.
“That's the thing, it's not,” he said. “Someone, before I left, told me there was a rumor circulating in town that Peter had returned.”
She stopped.
“What? But you said that's not possible.”
“Of course it's not possible,” he said. “But, it got to me. The feeling I had when someone said that–”
“Would you want him to come back?” she asked. “Even now? It's been years, hasn't it? And you've got the Kingdom set up to your rule.”
“I…” he shook his head. “I don't know. It just stunned me. That's all.”
Ariel squeezed his hand.
“So, let's go out,” she said. “Paint the town red. Just don't get so plastered that you forget how to magic us back. We don't have to think about any of this now.”
“That's your solution to everything,” he said, although he looked slightly less pale. “You are serious, though? About the divorce?”
Alexander came from a place where there was no divorce, not even suggestion of such a thing. Dragons married for life, even if they didn't mate for life. He couldn't even fathom the very idea of having a second or third wife. He had known what it meant when he married her, and while their marriage was open, he had no intention of signing papers, even if it was just on Earth.
“I am,” she said. “And it's not the first time we've talked about it. Don't act so surprised.”
“We can talk about it,” he said, at last. “But I don't–”
“I know,” Ariel said. “We come from very different worlds. I've long since accepted this.”
“Well, at least there's that,” he loved being on Earth. The busy streets, especially in the dark, were memorizing. The cars whizzed by, people spoke on their phones, and the world seemed simpler and easier. “We can go out for a few drinks if you want. We should celebrate your success, in any case. You stole the show.”
“I was in the chorus!” she protested. “That's the problem with musical theater. It doesn't matter if you were a prima donna in the ballet company; you are in the chorus of the theater unless you can dance and act.”
“You can't dance ballet forever,” he said, and she shrugged.
“I know,” she replied. “And I know I'm already older than most of the dancers out there. Musical theater is a last-ditch effort. Maybe I should learn to act; it can't be that hard.”
“I could waive my hand,” he said, indicating his magic. “One director will lead to another, and they will all be convinced you're a rising star in that regard.”
“No,” she said. “I was a prima ballerina on my own, and if this is my path, I'll figure it out.”
“My independent queen,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “So many people would take that offer and never look back.”
“So many of them are weak,” Ariel answered. “Are you actually hungry?”
“No,” he said, as he scoured the landscape.
“Right, it's not Wednesday, is it?” she said it off hand, but Alexander caught it anyway, squeezing her hand. It was the other thing he hid – his issues with food. He was almost afraid of his dragon form and of the impulses that came with it. Dragons ate other creatures relentlessly, gorging sometimes. Cole was particularly bad for it, as he was never satisfied. But Alexander liked to be in control of everything: his words, his clothes, his situation, and his food. He ate once a week on Wednesdays. Wednesdays were the days Ariel returned to the theater, and Tuesday nights were when he pulled her closest, pushing the dragon hunger away. “Drinks it is then,” she said, taking his hand. “Come on. For one night, you're not the king. You're just mine.”