Thorne
Four days later, the two of them were still locked up in the suite.
It seemed ridiculous to call their stay in the apartment building—what was rapidly becoming known as the Dragon Tower—a prison sentence, but that’s exactly what it was. He could not leave, his wings fettered and tied down, unless he was willing to become a fugitive in a world he didn’t understand.
Carla was forced to stay here and deal with him, her hopes of returning back to the base fading daily. Her life and family were slowly becoming more distant memories with each passing hour, and it was etched upon her face. Whatever they were going to do, they needed to do it soon.
The toll was starting to take hold upon their relationship as well, straining it to the limits. In his mind, only the fact that their connection burned brighter than anything humans could hold between themselves was keeping it from fraying apart like a rope under too much strain.
Something needed to give. Either the rope needed to be stronger, or the load would have to be lightened. Thorne could see no way around Colonel Mara’s actions however, and it seemed neither could Carla. It was all up to him, and if he was going to make things work between them, it meant he was going to have to make some drastic sacrifices.
What are you willing to give up to have her?
The question was one he’d etched into his brain, but so far he’d not been able to come up with a complete answer. There were many things to which he would give up to have Carla, but none of them would actually help. He doubted giving up beer would affect her decision to stay with him or not. Thankfully she’s not crazy enough to ask me to do that!
He tossed and turned, trying to think of just what he could do that would make things better for her. How he could change her fortune while still keeping them together. Beside him she slept soundly, much to his irritation.
Would you rather she be tired and cranky?
No. No he would not. Gently he blew a kiss in her direction, wishing her sweet dreams. If anyone was going to do the sleepless thing, it would be him. Eventually something would come to him. There had to be a solution.
Restless, he slipped from bed and turned on the television, pushing the volume down until it was nearly off. His excellent hearing meant he could still enjoy it without risking waking Carla, who was a light sleeper when it came to everything except his tossing and turning, oddly enough. Perhaps it meant she was comfortable with him now? He wasn’t sure.
The television was turned to a military channel, which was no surprise. Although much of it was distilled and designed for mass audiences, Carla inhaled anything about military history that she could in an effort to further her education and skills.
Right now it was one of those shows that showed the evolution of certain weaponry from olden times, to Thorne’s birth, and then to modern day as well. He sat back, looking at scenes of knights clad in heavy armor, holding massive lances as they charged at their foes. It cut to a movie scene, showing a massed cavalry charge. There were thousands of riders, bearing down a hill in a massed wedge formation against untold legions of evil-looking creatures dressed in mismatched black armor as they besieged a city of all white.
Thorne sat watching it, enraptured by the scenes playing out as the sheer momentum of the charge blasted their enemies ten feet into the air as they impacted. It blew a huge hole through the ranks of their enemies, who eventually turned and ran, overwhelmed by the impact. Though these men weren’t clad in the plate armor of the Middle Ages, they were still a formidable force.
Eventually the show returned to showing knights of old, complete with standard bearers and plate-covered horses. He snorted. Dragons would be far superior to any horse. They were bigger, stronger, faster, and most importantly, they could fly. Not to mention his other special powers.
And battlesuits are far superior to—
“CARLA!” he shouted, a thunderous roar of excitement as he leapt from the couch, forgetting for a moment he was a dragon. The force of his leap flipped the entire piece of furniture over. It crunched several tables, and decorative vases went flying through the air. One slammed into a big mirror leaning against the wall that hid the elevator, while others shattered on the floor. Glass went everywhere.
There was a thump from the bedroom and Carla’s head appeared. “What the FUCK is going on out here?” she shouted angrily, her eyes still blinking sleep from them.
“Stay right there,” he said, putting both hands up. “I’ll be right back. But whatever you do, don’t go back to sleep.”
His mate stood staring at him. “You’re fucking joking, right?”
Thorne’s head tilted quizzically. “No? Why would I joke with you at this hour?”
“Why would you do anything with me at this hour? It’s like three in the morning, Thorne. The time for anything, even middle-of-the-night sex, has passed. You need to let people sleep.”
He could hear footsteps moving around upstairs, their neighbors likely having heard the noises as well.
“I…,” he shook his head. “Just wait there, okay? I’ll be right back. I need to get a few things.”
“Unbelievable,” she said, tossing her hands up in the air. “In one ear, out the other with you.”
But Thorne wasn’t listening. He pushed past her into the bedroom and ripped the sheets off the bed. Then he went to the linen closet and grabbed more.
“What? Where are you taking all those?”
He was too busy to answer though, material stuffed under one arm as he got in the elevator and punched some buttons.
A few minutes later he returned to the apartment to find Carla still leaning against the door, arms crossed. She did not look impressed.
“Come on,” he said excitedly. “Let’s go! I want to show you something.”
“What?” she asked sleepily, the earlier excitement having worn off, leaving her exhausted.
“No time for that! Let’s go,” he urged, crossing the distance and swooping her up into his arms.
“Hey!” she protested, but his grip was solid and if she couldn’t budge him now as he entered the elevator.
“The roof?” she complained as the doors slid back open. “You realize I’m wearing pajamas that are somewhat transparent, right?”
Thorne lifted his eyebrows as he made a pointed example of staring at her chest, where the material was very see-through. “I had noticed that,” he said lazily. “A little bit.”
“Pervert.”
“You encourage it,” he whispered into her ears, shifting his left hand so he could pinch her butt.
“Put me down, you caveman!” she laughed, trying to swat his hand away.
“As you wish!” he set her down on the edge of the raised helipad.
“Thorne.” Her tone was serious now, the playfulness gone. “Why are we up here at this hour?”
“Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” Exasperation filled her words.
“Me. As I truly am.”
He reached the middle of the helipad and spun around, arms wide.
“Thorne, I told you, the time for late-night sex because you can’t sleep has long passed. Besides, I already saw all of you, the way you are, earlier. Twice. And it was wonderful, don’t get me wrong. But it was wonderful then. Right now, do you know what’s wonderful?”
“Not that,” he said, rolling his eyes, unwilling to let her speak. He triggered his change before she could respond.
His body exploded in size, occupying much of the helipad in the blink of an eye. Human skin of a whitish-tan color gave way to carbon-colored scales that shone with a sleekness even in the dark, glossy and highly reflective. His limbs shifted joints and his palms spread wide, new mass filling in the gaps as four claws sprouted from each end, three forward and one back, like a bird of prey.
A long tale exploded out from behind him, flicking back and forth in an almost catlike manner as he sent commands to the muscles. A wicked-looking bulge of pure scale and bone occupied the very tip, allowing him to easily club enemies into submission or death. Horns curled up and back from the front of his skull, two huge ones surrounded by half a dozen or so smaller ones lending an evil, almost menacing look to his appearance. At the same time his face jutted forward, forming a snout. Fluid dripped from his jowls, hissing and spattering as it hit the asphalt, burning tiny marks into it before evaporating.
“This,” he rumbled, the deep and melodious voice of a dragon emerging from his mouth, forming the words with a distinct sibilant hiss to them, but still understandable enough.
“Oh,” she said in small, strangled voice, eyes agog as he gently tucked his wings back in along his sides, crouching low on all fours. Though it was the middle of the night, a keen observer might still see him.
He was fairly positive Colonel Mara and any of the others would have an absolute fit if they knew this was what he was planning, but Thorne didn’t care. His eyes were only for his mate, and she needed to see this. To know that there was hope.
“You can touch,” he said. “I promise, it won’t hurt.”
Carla eyed his snout, where acid dripped to the asphalt again, splashing outward and leaving little burn marks. “Are you sure?”
“Byproduct of the change,” he said, getting his glands under control. “Always takes a few minutes.”
As he spoke the fluids dried up and then stopped completely. Reassured by that, Carla stepped forward, trailing a hand behind her as she walked. She ran fingers along his scales and felt the beat of his dragon heart deep in his chest. She paused there, head leaned up against him, ear listening to the triple thud-thud-thud that echoed like a bass drum.
“I don’t know what to say. You’re a dragon.”
Despite the proof that she was touching, it was clear Carla was still having a hard time reconciling the fact that dragons did exist. Thorne wasn’t hurt; he knew that it would be hard for her to abandon all she’d known and been taught. It was easier when it came to the Outsiders, because they were aliens. Completely inhuman in all aspects except perhaps their general bipedal nature. But nothing else about them could be termed as human, that was for sure.
“I am a dragon. You now have visual and physical proof that we actually do exist.”
She shook her head. “I’d heard the rumors of course, and others claimed to have seen them, but this…this is remarkable.” She walked around him, stepping over the end of his tail and then making her way back up the far side. “This is what you woke me up to see?”
Thorne shook his head, the motion almost comical as his head bounced back and forth on the end of his long neck. “No, no no. Not that.”
He snaked his jaws forward, pushing his head against the ground while his left paw shot forward and grabbed her up into it. With a bit of dexterity and assistance from Carla as she realized what was happeningm he deposited her on his back, where his neck disappeared into his body.
“This,” he said.
“What?”
He reached down off the far side of the helipad with his snout and grabbed the pile of sheets that he’d laid out very carefully. Working his head through them was more difficult than he’d planned, but eventually it worked and he grabbed up the rest in his mouth and then dumped them in front of her.
“Pull tight, and then slip the two white ones around your leg, and the ripped one around your waist,” he directed, pointing to the various pieces of sheets.
“Thorne? Are you sure? I don’t know about this,” she said uneasily, comprehension starting to dawn.
“Positive. Just do it,” he ordered sternly.
“Fine.” She slipped her legs through and then her waist, pulling everything tight. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“No. Not that.” he commanded, picking up the last thing from his little stash.
“What then?” she growled.
He shoved it into her hands and spread his wings.
“This,” he said, and leapt from the building.
She screamed. Loudly. But only for a second, and then her breath was gone as his wings spread wide, flapping in the air. He caught the wind and they billowed outward. A mighty heaving of tendons sent them hurtling higher into the sky as he wound his way upward.
“Thorne,” she said at last from where she sat at the base of his neck, locked in with the makeshift harness he’d made from sheets. One end was looped tightly around his neck, the other secured to her in three places by cinching knots.
“Yes?”
“Why am I holding a cardboard gun?” she asked dryly.
“This is how we’re going to be together,” he said tightly, winging westward over the city and then the plains beyond the city.
The plains where any battle to defend Barton City against the Outsider invasion would be fought.
“What do you mean?”
“This is how we get you back into the military, while also with me. Dragon riders.”
Carla was silent behind him.
“Give me a human rider in a battlesuit, outfit me with a harness and advanced weapons, and then unleash us against them. We’ll be unstoppable.”
Finally his mate responded. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?”
He grinned. “So you’re in?”
She laughed wildly. “HELL YES I’m in.” Then she paused. “Thorne, can I ask you something?”
“Of course. Anything at all.”
“I thought you didn’t want to fight.”
He sighed, wings pausing for a moment as they sailed through the night sky, hopefully invisible as all but a shadow to anyone below. It was a smart question, an inevitable one.
“I said I didn’t want to be used as an object. I wanted choice. Well, I’ve made my choice, Carla, and it’s you. It was always you. If this is what it takes for me to be with you, then so be it. I’m not fighting for them. I’m fighting for you. For humanity. Not some government figures.”
She was quiet. A quick peek showed her leaning over the side, the black hair on her head short but waving wildly anyway. Her eyes squinted to pinpricks against the wind as she looked down, the night lights of Barton City receding in the darkness.
“I knew you had it in you,” she said softly. “All this time, I believed you would make the right decision.”
“It was easy once I had you to guide me,” he replied without thinking. “Like a light to guide me. I would do anything for you, Carla.”
He caught himself before his heart took over, jaws snapping shut with a click of pointed teeth as he focused his attention back on flying, beating the wings downward to gain back the height he’d lost.
Giving thanks that the wind drowned out the sound of his heart thundering against his scales he closed his eyes, triple-eyelids sliding into place protectively over the yellow cat-like orbs.
It had been a near thing, but he’d stopped himself in time. Carla wasn’t ready to hear the other words he wanted to speak. Not yet. Tonight was moment enough; he needed to wait for the right time, and this wasn’t it. But just because he couldn’t say it, didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling it, or thinking it.
I love you, Carla.