I was no stranger to snow. We had plenty of it in New York City this time of year. But there it was gross, gray sludge that stunk and sat around in sad, dirty piles after the plows came through.

Snow here in Vale Valley was different.

It shouldn’t have been, not really. It was just frozen water, after all. But even after growing up here, it seemed there were still some secrets of the Valley I hadn’t figured out yet. 

It always managed to look perfectly white and fluffy, no matter how cold it got. Even the falling flakes were like feathers, brushing against my face and arms as I walked toward Town Hall.

I knew what Rosemary wanted to see me about. And I knew I wasn’t ready to answer.

I tried to weigh the possibilities in my mind. On the one hand, I could just sell the Dozing Dragon, make some cash, and fly on back to NYC. Forget this ever happened, move on with my life. 

But was that what I really wanted?

My dragon certainly didn’t like the sound of that. He rolled around, keening. Mate, he screeched out impishly. Your mate!

And there was that.

Did I regret claiming Will there in the heat of the moment, that fateful winter night? No, that wasn’t it.

But it did make things a lot more complicated. It would be harder for me to leave now, that was for sure. I had another person to look out for besides just myself, and to tell you the truth, that scared me.

I continued to let those thoughts play out, tumbling around in the back of my mind like a popcorn machine. I might not have all the answers yet, but maybe talking to Rosemary would help.

It couldn’t hurt, right?

Rosemary opened the door as soon as I knocked. Almost mid-knock, actually. Like she’d known I was coming right at this moment. She probably did.

“Sebastian, come in,” she greeted me. “I’ve got a fire going and I just got some fresh cookies delivered.”

I took a long, grateful whiff. “Chocolate?”

“Why have anything else? Come on, get in here.”

I stepped past her and into the Town Hall, depositing my coat on the rack by the door. Rosemary closed the door behind me and swept off down the hall, motioning for me to follow her. 

I passed portraits of the Vale family and letters of recognition. There was even a sprightly wreath hung over the conference room door. The smell of cookies, hot and sweet, wafted from behind the door.

“After you.”

I took my seat in one of the vinyl swivel chairs, feeling like I was in New York all over again. The long conference table, fluorescent lights, and wide windows made me think of one too many investor meetings. The hall was still rustic with that Vale Valley charm, though, and a small tree sat in the corner, blinking with lights. 

I grabbed two cookies from the box at the center of the table then pushed it toward Rosemary. 

“Oh no, I couldn’t eat another bite. Those cookies are going to be the end of me, just watch.” 

I smiled and took a bite. She was right. They were perfectly warm and soft, practically melting in my mouth. They were what I liked to call ‘not-quite-done’, that gooey sort of half-dough, half-cookie creation you get when you take them out of the oven just a tad too early. Heaven.

“I see what you mean,” I said after wiping my mouth with a napkin. “I could get addicted to those.” 

“I think I already have,” laughed Rosemary. “But yes. We have matters to discuss.”

I sat up straighter. Smoothed my shirt. Why did I feel like this was gonna be bad news?

“As you know, the Dozing Dragon has passed to you on the event of Nellie’s death. I understand you need time to grieve and think it over. We all do. That’s not what I mean to press you about. But we’ve been talking with some of the local lawyers, and they say that you’ll need to make a decision on the place one way or another before the end of the month. Fiscal year technicalities, and all that. Have you given any thought to the matter?”

I blinked at her. Had I given it any thought? Hell, I’d given it pretty much every thought ever since coming here. I knew how much the place meant to the Valley and to my mother, but I was no Nellie. I couldn’t run a B&B, even if I wanted to. I had work to go back to, and resources were tight enough as it was without having to hire on help to run the Dragon in my stead. 

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. There didn’t seem to be any other way out. I’d have to sell. 

“Something’s troubling you,” she said, jerking me out of my thoughts. “Besides the usual, I mean.”

I clenched my jaw and cleared my throat. She meant well, but Rosemary could be so damn nosy! 

“I’m still working through our options,” I said in my most business-like voice. No hint of emotion carried over. Well, maybe only a little. “You understand this would be quite a big change for me, taking over the Dragon.” 

Rosemary leaned back in her seat, folding her hands over her lap. “I understand.” Those two words carried such disappointment I almost backpedaled right then and there.

“You’re a shifter, Sebastian,” she said when she found her voice again. “Magical blood runs through your veins, whether you want to admit it or not. Let it in, for once. Let it be your guide.” 

I grimaced and shook my head. This went against everything I’d worked for. I’d gotten out of the Valley just like I’d said I would. I became independent, successful. Free.

But what did it matter if I hurt those I loved in the process?

“There’s a forest to the west of the Valley, right at the foot of the mountains. You know the one.” Her eyes bored into mine and held me trapped there. 

“Take some time. Clear your head. Stretch your wings, so to speak.” She winked. “You’ll come up with the answer you seek.”

I huffed out a breath through my nose and tasted sparks. I knew she was right. Why did she have to be right? So much had happened in so little time. If I was going to figure everything out, I needed to go somewhere safe. Quiet. I needed to stop being so afraid, and let go.

I bowed my head. “I’ll go.” 

Rosemary regarded me, clearly not done yet. “And don’t think I don’t know about the omega you’ve taken in. He’s grown quite fond of you, you know.” 

I gulped. She really did know everything.

“You know how sacred the mating bond is. It’s up to you to honor that commitment.”

“I know,” I said, still staring at the floor.

“Now go on,” she shooed me. “And take these cookies with you! I’ll eat them all if they stay here, and believe me, no one wants to see that.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled. “For letting me back in.”

She looked affronted at that, placing a dramatic hand to her chest. “Why, it’s not like we banned you or anything? You exiled yourself, Seb. I always told you, Nellie always told you, that you were free to come home whenever you wanted. I’m just sorry it took a tragedy like this to bring you back.”

I winced. Harsh.

But as usual, she had a point.

“Have a good rest of your day, Rosemary.” I headed for the door and donned my coat. The snow had stopped once more and the sun was even beginning to peek out from behind the wispy clouds.

“Don’t forget to let me know your answer by the end of the month!” She called after me. 

I breezed out into the frosty air without a word. 

My mind ached. Buzzed like a hive full of bees. When did life get so complicated? I thought I had it all figured out. I had systems. I had systems for my systems. And all of this? It didn’t fit into any of those boxes. Didn’t play by any rules. And for the first time, I felt totally and completely lost. 

I nibbled on one of the remaining cookies as I walked down the path, head down, deep in thought. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but my feet started leading me west, toward the grove Rosemary recommended. I knew it well, and knew why she wanted me to go there.

It was a place I used to go with mom, just about every weekend when I was a child. Even though we lived in a civilized town, mom wanted me to know the beauty and freedom of nature. We went for regular hikes and runs. She’d point out all the birds in the sky. Every type of tree, every little herb. I thought it was all powerfully boring, back then.

But now, I’d give anything just to have her next to me one more time.

The cool air whipped through the Valley and filled my lungs, fresh and clean and full of possibility. Could I really do it? 

I stretched my arms, testing the joints. I crouched, craned my neck side to side. I hadn’t shifted at all in well over a decade. Thought I could lock that part of myself away. Thought it was better that way.

What had I been thinking?

The pine trees grew up around me, shielding me from the sun and snow and wind. The path grew clearer, but colder too. I walked the dimly-lit path, my feet remembering the way even when I consciously didn’t.

Long nights in the meadow. My first flying lessons. Weekend picnics. 

A jolt of electricity flashed through me, tingling from my fingers all the way down to my toes. My dragon swirled and paced, ready to break free. Ready to play. I blinked, my eyes shifting over from regular vision to the sharpened, vibrant colors of golden dragon eyes. Breath turned hot in my throat, a fire building from a tiny spark into an eternal flame. 

I tossed the empty box of cookies aside, threw my arms out wide, and gave myself to the forest. 

There it was again. That shock. That spark of light and life that wove through all shifters. It rippled through me and I hunched over, my body seizing and shaking and stretching before my eyes. 

To shift from a human into an animal was no easy task. Especially when you were as big as a dragon. But I was resilient. Always had been. The pain of the shift was nothing compared to the deep, spiritual energy that released at the peak, spilling into the world around me like an orgasm. My fingers lengthened into claws. My feet grew larger, scalier. My nose picked up smells no human could, and my hearing grew attuned to every sound in the forest. I stayed hunched, curled into myself. A deep, prodding pain raced up my back and this time I didn’t resist. I spread my arms, let out a breath, and raored. 

Wings sprouted from my shoulder blades, wide and strong and leathery. I hadn’t done this since...god, I couldn’t even remember. But being here in the presence of nature, of finally giving into my instincts and letting myself be free...I couldn’t even begin to describe it.

It felt right. It felt like this was where I was supposed to be. This was what I was supposed to be doing, all this time.

My dragon no longer stayed locked away inside my heart. I was the dragon, and the dragon was me. 

And it was time to fly.

I pushed off of the ground with my strong back legs, stretching my wings wide to catch the air. I knew what to do on instinct, even though it had been so long. I leapt forward and caught the air current, tucking my legs beneath me as I sailed into the sky.

The ground fell away, growing smaller and smaller as I ascended. The air up here was even cooler, thick with frost and clouds, but it didn’t matter. The fire in my blood ran through me, keeping away every chill. I was soaring, floating, dancing through the air on wings as wide as a house. The Valley stretched out below me, every building and feature dollhouse sized at this height. I swept my gaze from the gazebo in the town square to the rotunda of the Town Hall where I’d met Rosemary over the colorful tents of the market and up the path to the cabins...

To the Dozing Dragon. 

There it stood, proud against the ivory backdrop of the Valley. I could see each eave from up here. Each slope of the roof. Each window. This old house had been in our family for generations. It was a cornerstone of culture, life, and laughter for each citizen, no matter how different. 

And now, there was an omega in that bed and breakfast. An omega who was waiting for me. My mate.

I flapped my wings harder, gaining yet more altitude. I sailed toward the hill where the bed and breakfast lay, high enough up to not be seen. 

There was something different about seeing things from above. Something about a new perspective that changed everything.

Up here, there was nothing to cloud my mind. Up here, there were no distractions of everyday life. Living as a shifter was freeing, in some ways, but it meant you could never run from your demons. And they were here in full force today, sneaking out of their hiding places and hitting me with as much force as the wind.

Emotions and memories came at me one after another. Perhaps it had to do with connecting with my dragon form after so long. Perhaps I had just not allowed myself to come to terms with my mom’s death. Perhaps it was finally time to grieve.

I weakened and dropped altitude, thinking only of her smile, her laugh, her hugs. If I could have seen her just one more time...could have told her, could have fixed things...

But she was gone. Never to return.

How do you come back from that?

Dragons don’t have funerals like humans do. Instead of burying their dead, dragons cremate them. It’s a fitting way to go, “returning to the flames” as they call it. And my mother’s cremation was scheduled for the next day. I’d nearly forgotten with everything else going on, but now it came back to me at full force. 

Tomorrow, I’d watch the flames devour my mother and spread her ashes to the wind.

I just hoped I could make her proud.

I drooped downward further, coming in for a landing in the same meadow I’d played all those years. 

It was fitting, to return here upon her death. Perhaps we could even hold the cremation ceremony here. She’d like that.

“For you, mom,” I whispered, kneeling in the snow. Sparks crackled on my tongue and this time I wasn’t afraid. They ignited and flared out in one long, hot breath, melting the snow instantly and singing the ground. My face grew hot, and I wasn’t sure if the drops of moisture on my face were sweat or tears. I kept breathing, kept howling, marking a place on the ground that would be forever hers. 

A small, black spiral, with an arrow at each end. It was the same symbol Nellie had worn around her neck all these years. And she would return to the flames with it as well.

“All things are circular,” she would tell me. “We give and take constantly, but in the end all things return to the universe.”

I stopped finally, out of breath and out of time. My shoulders sagged and shook. This time I didn’t try to stop it. I gazed upon the spiral burnt into the earth, and I sobbed.