Chapter Seventeen
Jacob realized while he flew that this was a new test of his will he was going to have to control. He couldn’t succumb to his Drakkon whenever he had to come. But this was the first time it happened, so he trusted his instincts and got away from her before things got really big.
He didn’t want to go far. He just needed to cool off before he started burning things. He felt like a living flame, a combustible force that needed release. He somersaulted, confident in his wings, his tail, and his practice. He came back up facing the water and flew toward it. His watchful eyes found River sitting up in the sand, watching him.
Pinning his wings close, he dove into the waves. Almost instantly, his blood regulated to the cold.
Jacob, come back to me.
He burst from the surface, filling the air with water. He soared toward the stars, letting the wind dry him and then returned to the ground…to her.
He approached her slowly on taloned feet. He could smell her. He could smell himself on her.
Do you know how beautiful you are to me, Jacob?
He was glad she wasn’t afraid of him. Should she be? Could he control Drakkon around her? He moved closer and swiped her up in his claws. He heard the acceleration of her heart, but she didn’t panic. She rested, instead, against his leathery palm and stared up at him.
He lifted her to his snout and took his time breathing her in, letting her scent course through him and awaken his every desire. He remembered the taste of her on his human tongue. He was tempted to taste her now.
Do you want to fly, River?
She smiled, firing up his insides. Yes.
Flapping his wings, he lifted them toward the heavens. He went as high as he could take her without her feeling ill. He clutched her to him and inclined his head to her.
I’ve never felt contentment, he told her. Even after flying, I feared I still hadn’t found what filled the emptiness.
His scales changed to flesh. His wings receded, and he fell with her in his arms.
I don’t feel empty now.
He pulled her closer while their hair snapped above them and kissed her mouth. He’d gone up high, so they had several seconds, at least. He used the time to work his tongue over her throat and wrap her thighs around him. She wasn’t afraid. He could never do this with her if she didn’t trust him. Her courage was the sweetest perfume, a sexual lure he couldn’t resist.
He impaled her with a deep thrust as they fell, once, and then again, grinding his teeth. He withdrew and altered before they struck the water. He carried her back up and let them fall again, entangled in each other’s arms, connected by their flesh, their thoughts, and their hearts. He soared toward the music playing for them, twirling and dancing with her held tenderly in his hand, nestled near his heart.
He’d never felt love. Not like this. He thought he never would. He hadn’t wanted to, especially not with a mortal. But he loved River. He would do anything for her, give anything for her. But maybe, he didn’t have to give up flying after all. She liked it.
She liked being taken in the air. She remained wet and ready for him despite him having to alter every few minutes. It drove him mad.
On the way down for the last time, he moved with her in a primal dance of decadence and desire until he erupted inside her, filling her to overflowing.
Later, he sat with her against the rocks beyond the water’s edge. She rested between his legs, cradled in his arms, her head on his chest. He never wanted to let her go.
She was his life mate. The only woman he would ever love until he was no more. How would he live without her? How would he tell her that he was immortal? She possessed no Drakkon essence. Why would she care what the stars said? What if she wanted no part of growing old alone without even a child to prove what they had was real? How twisted and unfortunate was it that he should finally find what his heart had been searching for, only to lose it again and be cast into eternity with nothing, no children, no family of his own making. He felt something in the pit of his belly grow cold.
None of it mattered now. He was here with her, about to share his life with her. If his time with her was limited, he would treasure every moment.
She told him of her mother, with a very different view of her than Ivy had. Jacob remained silent, listening. Lena Wray had been twenty-nine, six years younger than her husband when she ran off with Brant Olson. She was a dreamer, like her eldest by a little over a minute daughter.
“I used to love watching her do the simplest task,” River’s satiny voice drifted to his ears. “Her hair would fall over her smile and catch every color of the sun.”
“Like yours,” he remarked quietly.
“What? No,” she laughed. “Hers was more vibrant—like her spirit. She made scrubbing dishes fun. I adored her. I used to lay in bed at night afraid of her dying. I never thought she’d leave us by choice.”
He didn’t need to touch her thoughts to know that what her mother had done made it hard for River to trust. It made her trust in him all the more priceless.
“I won’t leave, River,” he promised.
She lifted her head and tossed him a playful smile. “You’re my life mate. You have no choice.”
“It wasn’t the stars that made me fall in love with you,” he told her, lifting his fingers to her cheek.
“What was it then?”
Jacob, Garion’s voice in his head interrupted. We have a bit of a problem.
Garion? Jacob sat up. “It’s Garion,” he told River. She sat up as well. What’s wrong?
There’s a group of people gathering in front of the house with flashlights and lanterns. They’re calling for the “dragons”. You need to bring River back before the sun rises so they don’t see you flying. Try to figure out a way to convince them that what they saw in Tarbert today wasn’t real. For now, Helena and I are staying inside and keeping Ivy and her father here, too. I don’t want to go out there and have their camera’s going off in my face or your sister’s. The Bane and what’s left of the Elders might not care about finding Red but if they get a whiff of me…
I know. Jacob closed his eyes. We’ll be there soon.
He told River what was going on and helped her to her feet.
“What are we going to tell them, Jacob?”
“We’ll think of something. Come, get dressed.” He thought about flying…flying back to Maraig…to help Garion and Helena…nothing was happening. He wasn’t changing. He took a step back and raked his hand through his hair. He wanted to be Drakkon. He wanted to fly. He wanted to fly.
“What are you waiting for?” River asked, fastening her jeans and pulling her sweater down.
He looked at her, able to see her in the dim light. What was he willing to give up for her? A sense of grief washed over him for the Drakkon dying in the birth of something new and even more powerful. He had to want to be Drakkon, and he didn’t. He didn’t want to be immortal. He didn’t want to be sterile to keep the world from his offspring.
“It’s not happening,” he told her, trying not to sound worried. How were they going to get back? Even if they waited until morning, he couldn’t take the ferry naked.
She stepped into his arms and ran her hands down the sleek, twitching muscles of his back. She closed her eyes and began to hum. He stepped into her thoughts and saw them flying, and falling, their gasps of ecstasy snatched up by the wind. His powerful wings bringing them higher and higher, clutched to his snowy white chest.
He looked up as the blue hour approached.
He felt himself begin to alter and stepped away from her. He snatched her up in the last moment and hauled her to his back. His wings stretched and snapped, bringing them over the small, empty bothy and the mountains beyond.
It didn’t take them long to get back and, thankfully, everyone was facing her house and not the loch. Jacob swooped in below the cliffs, dropped her off where he’d left his clothes and waited until she tossed them over the hill to him.
By the time he altered and dressed, she was already halfway to the house, stomping her bare feet as she went. He followed her.
“What are you all doing here at this hour?” he heard her demand while she parted the small crowd and reached her front door. Not bothering to hide the fact that she hadn’t been inside, but on the cliffs with him. She folded her arms across her chest and planted her feet, fearless in the threat of danger. “You all look bent on trouble.” She spread her hard gaze over them. “Margery, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“And I’m surprised to see you with him,” Margery countered, scowling at Jacob as he came into view.
“Really?” River tossed her a doubtful smirk.
“Miss Wray.” A short, hefty police officer stepped forward and placed his hand on River’s arm.
Jacob moved toward them.
Easy, dragon. River’s steady voice settled over him. Let me handle him.
“Constable Macroy,” she greeted in the same tone, out loud.
“How is your father?” the constable asked politely.
“I’m fine,” Hagan Wray said, opening the door behind his daughter. “What are you doing here, rousing me from my bed?”
“Charlie Owens was murdered,” the constable told him. “I’ve come to ask River if she knows anything about it.”
“And the dragons!” someone from the crowd shouted.
“Dragons?” her father’s droopy eyes widened. He stepped out of the doorway and looked out into the small crowd. “Who said that? What dragons?”
Jacob watched him, his breath stalled in his chest. Hagan Wray was about to be vindicated. Jacob wanted this for him. He deserved it. River and Ivy deserved it for the mother who ran out on them.
But they couldn’t admit the truth to these people. They were going to have to convince them that what they had seen was some kind of great illusion—that dragons weren’t real.
He wasn’t sure if he could take away Mr. Wray’s long-awaited triumph.
“We saw them!” a man called out. “Two of them! They tried to kill River!”
Her father turned to her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. “Is this true?”
“No,” she told him shaking her head. “Da, I—”
“Jacob didn’t try to kill her!” Ivy shouted, pushing her way out the door. “He saved her!”
Shouting erupted over Ivy’s confession. People demanded to know who Jacob was. They pushed forward, shoving the constable out of the way. River stood her ground with her family.
“I’m Jacob!” he shouted, drawing every face to his. Silence descended for a moment and he sent his intentions to Garion and then stepped forward.
“He’s lying!” a voice shattered the stillness. “He’s a man. We want to see the dragon!”
“No you don’t,” Jacob murmured.
“He is a dragon,” Margery called out. “I saw him change into one.”
“Margery,” Hagan called out to her. “You sound insane.”
“I have pictures,” she insisted with a triumphant grin.
“No you don’t,” Ivy told her. “You have nothing. None of you do. All you have is your word. Same as my father.”
Margery pulled out her phone. Some of the others did as well. Jacob watched their confused expressions. What was going on? What did Ivy know that he didn’t? He looked at her, the hint of a smile creeping up her lips.
Ivy. It’s Jacob.
He saw her gasp by the door and turn to find him.
Jacob? You’re full of surprises.
Yeah. Jacob winked at her. What’s going on with the phones?
Nothing. It’s their pictures. Apparently, when you’re a dragon you don’t stay photographed. Your image fades. You didn’t know?
No. He didn’t know.
You were in the pictures I took yesterday while you were flying, she explained. When I pulled them up to delete them, you had faded from the shot. It’s probably why there aren’t any clear pictures of dragons around.
This was good news. Garion wouldn’t have known it because he’d kept the Drakkon hidden for so long. But this was good. No one had proof. He could tell them whatever they needed to know to stay safe but they could never prove any of it was real.
Tell Garion. Go, show him. And Ivy…this is big. Thank you.
When she disappeared into the house, he went to stand beside River and her father.
“Everyone, listen,” he called out. “You should know the truth.”
Jacob, Garion’s deep voice warned in his head.
Garion, there’s a Drakkon flying around here that’s already killed one of their own. They should know what they’re up against and they should get the hell away from us. If they aren’t aware and Red attacks and kills them, it’ll be our fault. They need to know. If you aren’t planning to face the Red as Drakkon, then why are you here? If you fight him as Drakkon, people will see. And even if The Bane finds us because of this, we need to do all we can to keep these people safe. Right?
Garion didn’t answer right away. Jacob understood why. Everything he’d managed to keep hidden for almost fifteen years was about to be bared in the open. But he was a good guy. He would do the right thing.
Right, he finally said softly.
Jacob turned his thoughts to his sister. Do you agree? This affects your life as well.
My life has always been about keeping people safe from Drakkon, she told him. Nothing has changed.
Good. Stay inside. No need for them to see who you are.
He turned to River, who shared his thoughts. And you, my love, do you agree?
Yes. She smiled at him.
Amidst some demands that Jacob be arrested and the constable arguing with the people around him that he had no grounds yet, Jacob called again for the crowd to settle down.
“I didn’t kill Charlie Owens,” he told them, “but I know who did. He’s bald, about twenty-six, six feet, and he has one arm. He might be wearing Charlie Owens’ clothes. If you see him, go the other way.”
More shouting ensued. The constable stepped forward and turned to the crowd first. “Everyone step back or I’ll take you all in! I won’t have chaos or a lynching under my watch. Is that clear?” When they all begrudgingly agreed, he turned to Jacob and River. “You knew who did it and didn’t report it to me? I could take you in for obstruction of justice.”
Jacob dipped his chin and stared at the constable from beneath his brow. He wouldn’t be taken anywhere away from River. He had to convince this man to listen to him and then have him help disperse the crowd. “I didn’t report it because there’s nothing you can do about it.”
The constable stepped back, a look of confusion and fear on his chubby face. He pointed his finger at Jacob’s face. “Your eyes changed color.”
Jacob was aware of the sound of River’s heart thumping, her breath, her thoughts. He pulled back, his point to the constable made. “The man who killed Charlie Owens is like me.”
“Like you?” the constable asked.
Jacob nodded as the sun broke over the horizon and bathed him in radiant golden light. “I am Drakkon.”