Chapter 4

A phalanx of ten dragons stood guard around the village green. Their hides gleamed in varying shades of blue, green, brown, and silver. Other dragons in human form stood in front of the flowery wedding arch. They wore the same fabrics and finery as the villagers, yet I could tell the dragons apart by the way the stood and scowled. Not a smile or an encouraging look from any of them, including the brown-haired man with the vivid green eyes who waited in front of the altar. He stood stiff and tall, and when he saw me approaching with my parents, not a spark of recognition flared in his eyes, although I could tell by the way he sucked in his breath that he found me attractive.

Villagers smiled as I passed them. The men’s gazes filled with appreciation, except for the dragon males. They maintained their stoic expressions. Even Donovan. After I came to stand beside him, he turned toward a beautiful dragon woman with long red hair and brilliant blue eyes. Although she looked no older than I, her gaze radiated ancient knowledge. She wore a blue dress that bared her shoulders. Attached to a wide black velvet band, a sapphire the size of robin’s egg rested in the hollow of her throat.

“We begin,” she declared in a ringing voice that commanded instant attention. The dragon folk stiffened and focused intently on her. They watched her with a silent adoration bordering on obsession.

“We are here today to join this dragon and this witch in eternal matrimony. From this day forward, they are bound together by honor and fealty to our king.”

I tried not to jump when one of the dragon men grabbed my wrist and bound it to Donovan’s with a tight, rawhide cord. This was not part of any wedding ceremony I’d ever witnessed in the village. This must be the dragons’ way. How long would we be bound? Honor and fealty to the king. No mention of being bound by our hearts. Mine beat in my chest so hard the whole village must have heard it.

Although our wrists were tied together, Donovan made sure to stand apart from me, even straining to hold his hand as far from mine as he could. A pulse beat visibly in throat. He kept his gaze on the dragon woman, not me. Not even a sideways glance.

I inhaled, allowing the perfumed scent of the flowers deep into my lungs. The flowers’ scent had been enchanted to produce happiness when smelled. I relaxed as a strange joy twisted through me. Magic, not reality, but anything to keep me from trying to bolt away from the man I was bound to with rawhide cord.

Desperately aware of Donovan’s refusal to acknowledge me, I focused on Papa’s face. He stood with his arm around Griselda’s waist. Renata stood on his other side; next to her, Mother and Grandmother. My witch family stared without smiling. Renata clutched Mother’s hand. Tears glittered in her eyes—not the happy kind. Mother remained stoic, although her mouth trembled. Grandmother was perfectly expressionless as if she were a statue, not a real flesh-and-blood person.

Papa smiled for me when I caught his eye. Of all of them, he believed I would make a success of this marriage. My coven had made it plain they thought I was suffering for the cause of peace, and I would not enjoy my new life. I would endure it.

I resisted the urge to tug at my bound wrist. The rawhide cord cut painfully into my skin. These were not easy-to-pick knots—they meant business.

Only the thought I would dishonor my coven if my nerve broke steadied me. I looked again at the beautiful dragon priestess who now waved a burning stick of sage over us, sealing our bond in the smoke. She frowned as she awkwardly waved the stick. This part of the ceremony was pure witch, and my heart sang as the familiar fragrance of the herb filled my lungs.

Beside me Donovan stood rigid, his expression one of disgust bordering on repulsion.

Dragon men and women stepped backward to avoid the smoke.

I breathed in the purification. The sage smoke erased bad memories of the past, cleared the way for the future. Everything was clean and new.

I looked at Donovan, and for once, he gazed back at me. Was that the slightest start of recognition in his green eyes, or simply my hopeful imagination?

Perhaps my youthful trek to the mountain with Bunny hadn’t made the impression on him I thought it had. He might simply have been humoring the witch child because he’d been in a good mood that day. I remembered him being wistful, anxious even. And he’d spoken bitterly about not being trusted to be on his own. Teenage angst probably. Maybe he’d seen his time with the witch child as a rebellious act. To me, it had solidified my secret hero worship of dragons.

If only he’d smile at me, I’d rejoice at the chance to journey with him to the top of Zodiac Mountain. Instead, he turned away and focused on the priestess.

With a moue of distaste, she set aside the sage stick. A man with Donovan’s green eyes—his father perhaps—stepped forward with a long, thin velvet box. The priestess opened it to reveal a sparkling blue emerald attached to a thin silver chain.

Donovan reached into the box with his free hand and reverently withdrew the necklace. Turning to me, he met my gaze with his.

“May my wedding gift to you, a precious jewel that has been in my father’s treasure for centuries, bring us luck and happiness.”

He spoke the words by rote, as if they meant nothing. He held out his hand. Together, we lifted it over my head so that it hung around my neck. The stone settled between my breasts, flashing in the sunlight. The weight of it, saturated with expectation and dragon family history, threatened to pull me over, but I remained upright. In reality, the jewel weighed next to nothing.

My mother glided across the green, holding a wooden box Papa had carved. Her lips trembled in a forced smile as she opened the box to reveal my gift to my groom.

The dragon priestess sucked in her breath when she saw the silver charm in the shape of a dragon with outspread wings.

“Blasphemy,” she muttered under her breath.

I’d carefully fashioned the charm myself. I worked with silver and made jewelry for my coven and to sell in the village. I’d imbued this charm with all the luck and happiness spells I knew. It glimmered with magical power. I’d hoped with all my heart that Donovan would appreciate what I’d made for him.

Yet my hand shook as I took the box with my free hand. Why had the priestess said this was blasphemy? I’d done something wrong, but I couldn’t see what. Donovan’s lips thinned when he saw the little dragon winking in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the cherry and willow trees decorating the village green.

I’d memorized the words—part of the dragon wedding ceremony—and they tasted of ash on my tongue. I had no time to make something else, nor did I even want to. I’d worked hard on the charm, envisioning Donovan’s face as I shaped the dragon. Yes, I’d focused more on the boy’s face than the man’s, but the charm was made for him—and only him. The magic wouldn’t work for anyone else.

I could barely raise my voice above a humiliated whisper. “May my wedding gift to you, a silver charm I fashioned myself, full of magic meant only for you, bring us luck and happiness.”

I extended my arm, the open box on my palm. Donovan stared at the charm, his eyes wide.

“You spelled this gift?” he asked. “With magic?”

“For you,” I whispered past the sour taste in my mouth. My stomach clenched, and I was dreadfully sure for a moment I would puke on my wedding gown.

“Is this dragon supposed to be me?” He stared at me as if I’d perpetrated a horrible crime. “Do you think to trap my essence in this charm? Bind me to you?”

Villagers murmured in the background. Dragon folk muttered and shifted angrily from foot to foot.

“The magic is for you, and can only be used by you.” I managed to speak above a whisper, but my voice sounded small and weak. “The spells are for luck and happiness. Like our vows say. ‘May my wedding gift to you bring us luck and happiness.’ That’s all.”

Tears burned my eyes, and one of them escaped to trickle down my cheek.

I bowed my head. “I meant no dishonor.”

When I dared to look up, Donovan regarded me with a puzzled expression, as if he were weighing my words, testing them for truth or deception.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when my mother burst into angry speech.

“She worked hours and hours on that charm. Since the day she knew she’d be forced to marry you, dragon man.” Mother clenched her fists. “You dishonor her by questioning her motives in front of the entire village, her coven, and your clan. You should be ashamed.”

“Only a witch would say something like that,” yelled Donovan’s father, his eyes narrowed with fury. “And only a witch would offer a dragon an insult like that charm and call it a gift. You don’t make images of dragons and enchant them! You don’t make images of dragons at all! Everyone knows that, and this gift—”he sneered the word more than spoke it, “–is a calculated insult under the very nose of the king who ordered this union. If I could, I would call this marriage off this moment!”

“Would that you had that authority!” Mother shouted. “If you think the witches rejoiced at the notion of one of our most beloved forced to marry one of you, you’re insane!”

“Filthy witch,” snarled Donovan’s father, taking a menacing step forward.

“Bastard dragon!” Mother drew in a deep breath. I knew she was gathering her magic.

“Everyone, please!” I cried, scared that the wedding would descend into all-out brawl pitching villagers against dragons who were not their enemies.

Shocked, people froze and stared at me. Seconds ticked by almost audibly. Donovan watched me, stiff as stone.

“This is supposed to be a wedding,” I said, my voice cracking as I struggled to contain my tears. “A celebration. Please, let’s not be angry at each other. The king has ordered this to happen, and I want it to happen. I’m tired of the feuding. It is my hope that this wedding can fix the brokenness between us. Maybe not all at once, and maybe not for a long time, but it’s a start. We can’t let it begin like this, with witches and dragons at each other’s throats.”

I took a deep breath, aware of Donovan hanging on my every word—of everyone listening intently to me.

“I didn’t know making an image of a dragon was forbidden. I certainly never intended to offend, nor would I ever try to bind someone to me with magic. It would never last because it would cause harm, and magic shouldn’t be used that way.”

I looked toward my sister, who stood by Papa. She had a hand to her throat, and a thick silver bangle hung around her wrist.

“Renata, maybe I could have your bracelet. I know I made it for your birthday, but perhaps it would be a better wedding gift. The charm can be melted down and forgotten.” I turned toward Donovan, trying not to tug on our bound wrists. “Would that be acceptable? I’m sorry.”

He stared at me, his eyes so green I could have lost myself in them forever.

“I’ll take the charm,” he said, loud enough so everyone could hear him.

Dragon folk gasped. The priestess shook her head ever so slightly.

“She made it for me. She didn’t know dragons don’t like objects to be made in their image.” Donovan stared at the priestess and then his father. “Better, too, that I control it, don’t you think?”

“Aye, there is wisdom in that,” his father muttered.

Donovan held out his free hand, an imperious gesture with no gentleness behind it. My stomach rolled as I deposited the box onto his palm.

All the preparation for this day ruined by my ignorance.

Donovan turned back to the priestess. They stared at each other for several uncomfortable seconds.

“Get on with it,” he demanded, giving our bound wrists a tug. I staggered, and his jaw tightened when he spared me a look, as if he’d forgotten we were tied together. How he’d managed that, I couldn’t fathom. My wrist burned where the knots pressed against my skin. A constant reminder that we were lashed to each other.

The priestess narrowed her eyes, but nodded slightly.

“Speak your names to each other, and that exchange will seal your souls together for eternity.”

My voice choked in my throat. Eternity? I could barely look ahead a season without feeling the press of time.

“Muh...” I began, a huge act of will, only to have Donovan shake his head at me.

“Not aloud.” He didn’t precisely sneer, but impatience colored his tone. “Do you want everyone hearing us?”

Once again shame at my ignorance of his customs engulfed me. I had been told we’d exchange names at the end of the ceremony, but no one had tutored me to whisper as if my name was a disgrace.

My cheeks burned, and I wanted to claw at them with my fingernails, only I was tethered to this stranger who clearly expected me to know things I didn’t.

Donovan sighed. “Whisper your name in my ear.” He bent closer, presenting the side of his head to expose his ear. Up close he smelled of hot cinnamon, a scent I remembered from our childhood meeting. The memory stung me in a way it never had before.

Even though the feud had continued between the coven and the dragons, and I’d never seen Bunny again, I’d trusted that Donovan had done his best. Now I wondered if he’d callously dropped Bunny into a tree top to rot as he’d winged his way back to his mountain. Maybe he’d even laughed.

“You know my name.” I fought tears of angry humiliation as I spoke, causing my voice to crack. “And I know yours.”

“Say it anyway.” He held his head still, and I could see the bulge of his clenched jaw.

Why had I ever thought he’d meet me halfway in this? What had I done to myself?

“Marley,” I forced myself to say. “And I’m not ashamed of my own name. I’m only whispering because I don’t want to cause a scene.”

“You’ve already done that.” Donovan turned his face so his mouth was inches from mine. This close I could see the pores of his skin, and the beginnings of brown stubble across his chin. His eyes mesmerized me. So green and intense, as if they could see straight through my humiliation and into the core of me to the little girl who’d adored dragons.

His lips quirked. Was he smiling at me?

“Nobody should be ashamed of their name. That’s not why we whisper. Didn’t I tell you all those years ago that names hold power? Why, during this important ceremony between us, should you share it with strangers? Don’t you understand? We’re giving each other our names. It’s not a disgrace. It’s a gift.” He leaned close to my ear, his breath so warm it sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. “My name’s Donovan.”

He turned back to the priestess, who didn’t bother to conceal her disgust.

“Consider yourselves bound.” She gave us one scathing look, then stalked away from the altar.

The villagers burst into excited cheers. Smiles lit their faces.

Dragon folk muttered sullenly beneath their breaths. The witches gathered together in a tight circle, their backs to the rest of us.

“I’m hungry,” Donovan declared. “Let’s find some food.”

Constricted as it was, I doubted food would slide down my throat. Even if it would, my stomach would likely revolt.

Still, I allowed Donovan to lead me to a long, wooden table heaped with food. He reached for a huge turkey drumstick and surprised me by extending it in my direction.

“Wife before husband,” he said, but didn’t smile. Another dragon custom perhaps. Nevertheless, I took the drumstick. After a moment, I realized that he wouldn’t take one for himself until I began eating.

The fresh turkey meat all but slipped from the bone when I took a tentative bite. Donovan watched me chew and swallow before helping himself. He ripped off a huge mouthful, his white teeth flashing in the sun.

I wanted a drink of water in the worst way, but with my wrist bound to Donovan’s, I had only the one free hand.

Staring at the series of knots in the cord around our wrists, I said, “How are we ever to undo these? Can we use a knife?”

A half smile twisted Donovan’s lips. “We could, but that would be cheating. There’s a trick to it.”

“Will you show me?” I watched him take several more bites of his turkey leg before he answered me.

“The more you pull away from me, the tighter the knots become. If, however, you link your fingers with mine, we can rotate our wrists a few times, and the knots should fall apart.” His lips twitched again. “If the dragon who tied them managed to do it correctly. He was totally against our marriage, so I wouldn’t put it past him to have tied the knots wrong.”

I took a deep breath. “I suppose you were totally against our marriage as well, weren’t you?”

He sighed. “I had no desire to marry a witch, that’s true.”

I shrugged. “Witches don’t marry at all, so consider how I must feel.”

He tilted his head to regard me, as if he truly cared about my feelings. “I am sorry you were forced into this situation.”

Tension loosened in my tight chest. If he meant those words, and I couldn’t detect any insincerity, perhaps some of the dragon boy did still linger in the grown-up man.

“I’m sorry you were as well.” I set aside my drumstick. “Have we been bound long enough by dragon custom? Can we undo the knots?”

“Let’s see.” Donovan flexed his fingers, spreading them apart so I could slide mine between the spaces. Slowly, we closed our fingers together. “Now rotate your wrist to the left, and I’ll go right.”

I followed his directions and focused on our hands. After two rotations, the knots loosened.

“Stop,” Donovan ordered. “Now you go to the right, and I’ll go left.”

Biting my lip, I did as he instructed. The knots loosened more until, abruptly, they fell apart and the cord fell to the grass at my feet.

Stooping with lithe grace, Donovan snatched the cord and tucked it into his pocket.

I opened my mouth to ask him why he’d done that, but the dragon man who’d tied us together stepped close to Donovan. His red hair gleamed in the sunlight.

“Thank you for tying the knots correctly, Rabb.” Donovan nudged him with his shoulder, smiling. The red-haired man grinned back.

Emboldened by their obvious camaraderie and Donovan’s gentleness with me, I said, “Hello, Rabb, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Marley.”

Rabb’s face flushed two shades darker red than his hair. Donovan sucked in his breath, anger sparking from his eyes.

“Who the hell gave you permission to use my name, witch?” Rabb all but spat the words at me, his fists clenched. For a terrible moment I thought he might strike me, and, worse than that, Donovan would stand by and do nothing to protect me.

“You know that our names are sacred.” Donovan glared at me. “Why would you disgrace me like this? I’ve been trying very hard to make the best of this, but you continually make things more difficult than they have to be. Are you doing it on purpose? Because if you are, I suggest you stop now before we get to Zodiac Mountain where you’ll have no friends or family to hide behind.”

Shame engulfed me. I had known dragons were strangely protective of their names. What had made me blurt Rabb’s name the way I had? I couldn’t let my guard down and forget everything I knew about dragons.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing I sounded pathetic “I forgot.”

“She forgot,” Rabb sneered. “Bullshit.” He took a threatening step toward me, his blue eyes chilly as a winter lake. “Don’t forget again. The next time you call me by my name against my will, I’ll make you extremely sorry. And don’t you think you can tell me your name and that makes things even, because it doesn’t. I don’t want to know your name, witch, and you’ll never be a friend of mine. You hear me? You pathetic thief. You and your coven can all go to hell.”

He wheeled and stomped away. Horrible silence stretched between Donovan and me. I stared at my feet, afraid to look up at him.

“Maybe that was my fault for using his name in front of you. I wasn’t thinking. He’s no doubt as pissed at me as he is you, and he’s my best friend.” Donovan took me none too gently by the elbow and steered me away from the food table as a group of hungry villagers approached.

“Sit here.” He gave me a gentle push onto a bench beneath a willow tree. The leaves danced in the summer breeze. “I want some wine. Red or white?”

The thought of drinking anything made me want to vomit. “Nothing, thank you.”

“Keep your head up. The last thing I want is to be married to a weepy, sulky woman. I need someone who can stand up for herself. So he yelled at you, so what? Be grateful that’s all he did. Believe it or not, he restrained himself.” Donovan scowled at me.

“Not making me feel any better,” I muttered.

“Then stop walking around like you have two left feet. Keep them on the ground and out of your mouth,” Donovan suggested.

“I’m expected to know all about dragon culture, but nobody apparently gives a damn about my culture,” I cried. “It’s normal to exchange names when you introduce yourself to somebody. I’ve done that for twenty-five years. Give me more than twenty-five seconds to change my whole way of life around.”

Donovan almost smiled. “Red or white?”

Mindful of my beautiful dress and possible spillage, I said, “White.”

Donovan strode off toward the wine table.

I leaned back against the willow trunk and tried to steady my uneven heartbeat by taking deep breaths. I was going to live in Donovan’s world. My way of life didn’t hold as much relevance as his did. I needed to focus on learning his rules and making them second nature. If I intended to stop the feuding between witches and dragons, I didn’t want to inadvertently fan the flames of hatred by not following their customs. Ignorance was no excuse.

“Hello.” A girl’s voice roused me from my self-castigation.

A dragon girl who appeared to be between thirteen and fifteen surveyed me solemnly. Her blonde hair was braided, and a stray cherry blossom clung to her bangs.

“Hello,” I said, stepping on my urge to smile at her. I’d let her make all the first moves.

“I’ve never seen a witch this close up,” the girl confided, hands behind her back as she stared at me. Her eyes shone extremely blue. “You can do magic. What’s that like? You don’t look any different than us, but I still know you aren’t a dragon somehow. Why is that?”

I decided to answer her second question. “I think it’s our eyes. Dragons have bright eyes. The color’s more vivid.”

“That might be it,” she agreed. “Our eyes let you know what color dragon we are. I’m blue. If you were a dragon, you’d be brown. But you’re not a dragon. Did you know that your children will be dragons and not witches? Dragon genes are dominant. Not that many dragons marry witches. And Tauria dragons never marry witches because we hate them.”

“Yet I’m married to a Tauria dragon,” I said, not sure whether to be unnerved or enchanted by her bluntness.

“The king forced you to marry him. He doesn’t love you, you know.”

“I know,” I said, unaccountably stung by those words even though I knew them to be true.

“How could he?” she asked.

I braced myself for her to tell me that was it was because I was a witch.

Instead, she said, “He barely knows you. You can’t love someone you don’t know.”

“Very wise,” I said.

“Unless it’s love at first sight,” the girl amended. “Although my mother tells me that doesn’t happen outside of books. Is that what your mother told you, too?”

I thought of my mother’s story about meeting Papa at a village dance, and how they’d kissed before they’d exchanged names.

“No, my mother didn’t tell me that. In fact, when she met my father—”

“Witch!” shouted a woman who looked like an older version of the girl. Bundling up her skirts, she ran toward us. The girl flinched, but stood her ground.

Panting, the woman swooped upon us. “How dare you talk to my daughter as if you had the right?”

I wanted to tell her the girl had talked to me first, but one look at the fear on the teen’s face, and I swallowed my words.

“I apologize. I didn’t know talking to her wasn’t allowed.”

The girl shot me a confused, but grateful, look.

“You only speak to my daughter when I give you permission!” the woman yelled. “And I don’t give you permission. Don’t even look at her again. The nerve of some witch talking to my daughter! Just because you married into our clan doesn’t give you the right to think you actually belong. Do you hear me?”

“I think the whole village hears you.” Donovan sat beside me on the bench and handed me a wooden goblet filled with white wine.

The woman’s face reddened with rage. “Good. I hope they can! Keep your so-called wife away from my daughter. Do you understand me?”

“How about you keep away from my wife? There’s nothing so-called about her. You witnessed the ceremony yourself.”

“Yes, I did.” The woman glared at us both. “If we’d stood up to the king like I advised, this travesty of a day would never have happened.”

“The clan voted to make me marry her,” Donovan said, his voice flat. “Just like they voted to make me flame that damned field. No one listened to either of us when we objected, and now both of us have to live with the consequences.”

The woman’s face softened. “Donovan, nobody will blame you if you don’t stand by this witch. Just ignore her. Pretend she doesn’t exist. Come and eat with us. Rabb’s got us a table. He’s saved you a place at it.”

“Me, but not my wife?” Donovan wanted to know.

The woman’s lip curled. “Of course not. My daughter is never going to break bread with a witch. And neither am I. Just leave her be and come with us.”

“Val,” Donovan said, “every villager and witch here is watching my every move, ready to run to the king. At the very least, I have to make a show of treating her fairly.”

Val smiled at him, then gloated at me. “Things are not going to be easy for you on Zodiac Mountain, witch.”

I wouldn’t allow them to see how Donovan’s words had wounded me. Jutting my chin, I said, “I never expected them to be. I know how dragons hold grudges.”

Val snorted. “Oh, witches don’t, I suppose?”

“This witch doesn’t,” I said.

“You might after we get through with you once you cross the clan threshold.” Val took hold of her daughter’s arm. “Come on, you’ve been contaminated enough by this witch. Stay away from her.” Still lecturing, Val dragged her daughter away.

Resisting the urge to distance myself from Donovan, who sat much too close for my comfort, I sipped my wine.

Donovan drank his, seemingly unaware of how near his thigh was to mine. Treacherous man, how was it fair he had to be so attractive?

“Go ahead. Eat with them.” I inched over on the bench, only to have him scoot after me.

“I just ate,” he reminded me. “And if you continue to move away from me, you’ll end up falling on the ground. People will laugh at you.”

“You mean dragons will laugh at me. Everyone else would rush over here to make sure I’m all right.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged. “Dragons are the only ones who count right now, though.”

“I thought names were gifts and sacred. Why do you say each other’s names in front of me?” I glared at him truculently. “I’m never going to get it straight if you all go around saying each other’s names while I’m standing there listening.”

Donovan sighed. “If a dragon gives you permission to use their name, you may say it aloud. It’s as simple as that. You haven’t been given leave to say anyone’s name, so don’t speak them aloud even if you do happen to know them.”

“Not even yours?” I stared hard at the cherry tree opposite the bench. The pink flowers blurred through tears I tried hard to blink back.

Donovan heaved another sigh, as if his patience were wearing thin. “I gave you mine, remember? Twice now.” He shifted on the bench so that our thighs touched. The heat between us confused and excited me. I didn’t want to be attracted to him, but I couldn’t help it.

“All the same, if you could refrain from using it in front of other dragons, it might go better for us.”

I ground my teeth together. “Because you’re ashamed to be married to a witch.”

“Because I want to avoid drama. A little discretion goes a long way with dragons. The less you say and the more you observe, the better you’ll get along.” Donovan reached up to pull a handful of leaves from the willow branch nearest him.

True, but galling.

“How much longer do we need to stay here and pretend we’re celebrating?” I asked.

“In that much of a hurry to get to Zodiac Mountain? You astonish me.” Donovan gave me a lazy grin.

“Facing the hatred and scorn I know will be heaped upon me is preferable to dreading it.” I clutched the wine goblet, wishing he would stop staring at me with those eyes of his.

“Relax,” he suggested. “No one can enter our chambers without permission. You can stay there, and you don’t have to see anyone.”

Horrified, I shifted on the bench to face him. “Inside? Forever?” Although I sat on a wooden bench beneath a willow tree while summer sunlight beamed down upon me, I could feel the rock walls of Donovan’s chambers closing in on me, threatening to crush me between them.

“Not ever seeing the sun or feeling the wind in my hair?” Terror clutched at my stomach. I bent over, trying not puke. “I don’t want to be a prisoner. Is that what I’m going to be? Nobody will ever hear from me again once I leave, will they? Not my mother or my papa or my sister and brothers. No one.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “And the feud won’t end either, will it? I’ve just thrown my life away for nothing.”

“If you’re going to hyperventilate, maybe I ought to undo the buttons on the back of your dress so you can breathe better.”

“Don’t touch me!” I pushed Donovan’s hands away from me. “I’m not hyperventilating.”

“You’re panicking,” he said, without a shred of sympathy in his tone. “I resent the idea that you think I’d make you a prisoner in your own home. I merely said you have a safe place away from everyone if you wanted it. I never told you it was a prison. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t twist my words.”

“Why not? You twist them yourself!” I flared. “You seem nice, but then you tell—” I clenched my teeth to keep from saying Val’s name aloud. “—that woman that you’re only being nice for show here in front of people who might tell the king. What am I supposed to expect once no one can see anymore how you treat me?”

“You might pause to consider that perhaps the person I’m pretending in front of is—” his lips quirked, “—that woman, not you.”

I stared at him, my mouth dropping open. “Are you suggesting I ought to believe you like me?”

“I’ve liked you for twenty years,” he responded. “Did you think I forgot about our first meeting, Marley?”

The way he said my name sent a warm shock through me.

“I wasn’t sure,” I said stiffly.

“Do you still like me?” he asked, smiling.

“You flamed our field,” I said. “You made eye contact with me and looked right through me.”

“So that’s a no?” His smile faded.

“This situation is too complicated for a simple yes or no answer,” I told him. “I don’t know what to say right now.”

“Then don’t say anything. Come dance with me instead. Hear that?” He tilted his head. “The music’s started. Nobody can dance until after we do. Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

Reluctantly, I allowed him to pull me to my feet. He was right. Nobody could dance until we did, and the villagers loved to dance. It would be selfish to deprive them of their pleasure simply because Donovan confused the hell out of me.

As we drew closer, the spritely music grew louder, drawing me in against my will. The villagers weren’t the only one who loved to dance.

The crowd around the musicians parted to allow us onto the dance floor. I was aware only of Donovan’s hand in mine, and the way his smile seemed to transport me to a different world—one where we weren’t on opposite sides of a decades-long feud.

Once in the center, Donovan released my hand and gave me a slight bow. I curtseyed in response. He took me into his arms and swept me into the dance.

“I see you know the steps.” I tried not to gasp as he whirled us faster and faster.

“Just see if you can keep up.” The challenge in his smile made me laugh.

“Keep up? You call this fast?” I asked. The touch of his hand on my back produced a strange shiver down my spine.

“No,” he said. He tightened his fingers around mine. “This is fast.”

Cheers and whoops erupted from the watching crowd as Donovan danced us in breathtaking circles, never missing a step. To my credit, I never missed a beat either.

My skirts flared around my legs. Beneath my fingers, Donovan’s shoulder muscles shifted as we danced.

Breathing hard, I grinned at him, enflamed by the music and the man. He smiled down at me, for a moment reminding me of the boy in the clearing, only he was all man now, and I was a child no longer.

Heat stole into my cheeks as I wondered what he’d be like in bed. A thrill of passion seared through me.

Villagers clapped to the beat, urging us on.

“Faster?” Donovan asked.

“Don’t ask me, just do it,” I told him.

His grin widened and we danced faster still. I ignored the stitch in my side and hoped my breath wasn’t too ragged. He barely seemed winded.

“Dragons have more stamina than witches will admit,” he whispered in my ear. “Say the word and I’ll slow us down.”

“Never,” I vowed, tossing my head even though I couldn’t breathe anymore.

He chuckled, sending a warm rush through my overheated body. His breath in my ear ignited desire. Would he miss a step if I kissed him?

I lifted my face, intending to find out, only to stagger sideways when someone’s shoulder slammed roughly into mine.

Taken by surprise, Donovan lost his balance when he tried to steady me, and we both tumbled to the ground. Dancing boots and shoes whirled around us. At some point, the villagers, witches, and dragons had joined us. Someone stepped on my hand, hard, and I cried out despite myself.

I looked up to see Val’s lovely face as she danced with Rabb. They both grinned savagely down at me, and one of them kicked me in the ribs.

“Get up!” Donovan scrambled to his feet, hauling me with him. His lips peeled back in fury, he dragged me off the dance floor back to the bench beneath the willow tree.

“Are you hurt?” He scanned me up and down, assessing my appearance.

“Just my pride,” I admitted, struggling to catch my breath. My entire side ached from the kick, but I didn’t want to admit that to him, angry as he was. The last thing this wedding needed was a fight— especially dragon on dragon. “I didn’t mean to pull you down with me, Donovan.”

“Don’t call me Donovan!” he snapped. “I don’t want any of them hearing you call me by name!”

I yanked my hands from his. “Why? Would it humiliate you that much?”

“Marley,” he said, his jaw tight. “Let me lead the dance with the dragons. We’ve got to finesse this just right or the gulf between our people will widen, not narrow.”

“Oh, why do you have to make so much sense?” I cried, bitterness coloring my tone. “I hate that you make so much sense.”

“I hate that you can’t call me by my name. I gave it to you, and by rights, you should be able to use it in front of the whole world.” Donovan cupped my face and stared at me with such intensity everything faded away but him. “Please, little witch, only call me by name when we’re alone. Can you do that for me?”

At that moment, my heart beating so hard it ached, I could have walked through fire for him. Unable to speak, I nodded.

Swearing under his breath, Donovan abruptly lowered his head so his mouth captured mine. Entranced by the sweet pressure of his lips, I wound my arms around his neck. Roughly, he yanked me closer, deepening the kiss until my already overtaxed heart threatened to burst.

“By the Zodiac, little witch, you do know how to kiss,” Donovan murmured against my mouth. He caressed my cheeks with his thumbs, and I buried my fingers in his thick, brown hair. Tall as he was, I had to go up on tiptoe as I opened my mouth and our tongues met.

Time and place ceased to exist. Only Donovan and I mattered. I groaned when he slid his hands down to my shoulders and then the small of my back. The breeze drifted across my passion-heated skin. I wanted nothing more in the world than to keep this kiss alive, and when Donovan gently, but firmly, pushed me away, I groaned again, this time in protest.

“We’ve got to keep cooler heads than this.” He vigorously rubbed his forehead, as if trying to remind himself to think more clearly.

I staggered to the bench so I could sit. My rubbery legs threatened to collapse beneath me.

“Marley!” Mother and Renata rushed around the tree, their eyes wide. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” My lips felt swollen. Could they tell Donovan had just kissed me senseless, or did I simply appear disheveled from my fall?

Rabb and Val ran around the other side of the willow tree, followed by several other dragons, witches, and villagers. No more music drifted from the dance floor. Apparently, everything had ground to a halt.

“That bastard dragon kicked you.” Renata pointed an accusing finger at Rabb, who flushed with fury. “I saw him do it.”

“Did you?” Donovan’s eyes iced over as he turned to look at his best friend.

“I was dancing not kicking,” Rabb answered, his face sullen. “Witches’ eyes aren’t any stronger than their morals, it seems.”

A scream of rage burst from Renata as she stamped her foot. “Liar. I know what I saw!”

Rabb glowered at her, and villagers, witches, and dragons began muttering and shifting uneasily.

“Where’s your necklace, witch?” Val called, causing everyone to instantly grow silent.

Necklace? I stared at her in confusion.

“The emerald. Your wedding gift?” she jeered. “How soon you’ve forgotten. Treasure means less than nothing to you condescending witches, I suppose. Nothing matters but your precious stolen immortality, does it?”

Belatedly realizing, I grabbed for the emerald that should have been suspended between my breasts and grasped nothing.

“The clasp must have broken when I fell,” I said, flushing with dismay. I rose shakily to my feet, aware of Donovan standing close. He made no move to assist me, but I knew if I swayed he’d catch me. As that was the last thing I wanted in front of all these people, I fought hard to keep my balance.

“It must be somewhere on the dance floor.” I took three small steps and halted when Rabb yelled,

“Her pocket! Check the witch’s pocket. I saw her slip something in there!”

“My pocket? I have no pockets,” I whispered, confused.

“Not yours. Hers!” It was Rabb’s turn to point an accusing finger straight at my sister.

Renata gasped, her cheeks paling with indignation. “You’re such a liar!”

“Check her pocket. You’ll see!” Rabb yelled.

An angry mob of dragons surged forward, but stopped in their tracks when Donovan held up his hand.

“Let her show us herself.” He raised his voice to be heard above the angry muttering. He gazed at my sister as if she were less than nothing. Despite my knowledge he was playing a game, anger sizzled through my veins. How dared anyone look at my sister like that?

“Go ahead, Renata,” I called, deliberately using her name. Damn the dragons and their ridiculous customs. Renata was a witch like me, and we counted for something. “I know you don’t have it. Show them. The emerald’s on the dance floor like I said before.”

Jutting her chin defiantly, Renata plunged her hand into her dress pocket. Horror transfixed her, freezing her like a statue.

“But...but...how?” she murmured.

“Renata?” Fear colored my voice. Why would she have lied about picking up the emerald? If she had it, as she obviously did, why couldn’t she have just admitted she picked it up for me rather than deny altogether ever seeing it?

“I swear I didn’t put it in here.” Hand shaking, Renata withdrew the emerald necklace from her pocket. The crowd hissed in anger.

“Maybe she’s the one who knocked her own sister down to get the necklace and start a fight. She had to know if the witch lost her wedding gift, it would cause a riot.” Rabb couldn’t keep the gloating triumph from his voice.

“I don’t know who knocked her down. I only saw you kick her.” Renata spoke softly, her brow knitted with horrified confusion as she stared at the emerald on her palm.

“Thief! Once again the witches prove their dishonest approach to life and their dislike of dragon folk!” bellowed Rabb. “She must be punished! All the witches should be made to pay for this!”

A thundering roar split the air. Villagers screamed and broke for cover as a huge silver dragon lumbered across the green, his eyes whirling red with rage.

“Balthasar, no!” Donovan’s face drained of color as the dragon unfurled his massive wings and beat them in the air, causing dirt, cherry blossoms, and other debris to fly through the air. I closed my eyes a second too late and was blinded by a piece of grit. I rubbed my eye to clear it, cursing at the pain.

Renata was rooted to the spot, too terrified to run like everyone else. Only my mother, father, and grandmother remained beside her, fists clenched, mouths tight. My mother trembled, her eyes wide with fear, but she stood her ground. Papa stepped in front of Renata, his chin lifted high.

“Step aside, human!” growled the dragon in a guttural voice that scraped against my ears. This beast must be ancient. “I only wish to incinerate the thief!”

Renata moaned, then abruptly fell to the ground in a faint.

“Look what you’ve done, you callous dragon!” I shouted, more angry than fearful now. My poor sister. “She’s been terrified of dragons her whole life, and you threatening to incinerate her isn’t helping. You know you aren’t going to do it, you big bully!”

Donovan winced.

“How dare she speak that way to our clan leader!” shouted Rabb. “Control your wife, Donovan, or we’ll do it for you!”

“You step one foot closer to my wife, and friendship or no friendship, I will beat you down. Make no mistake.” Donovan glared at Rabb, his green eyes cold as glacial ice.

The silver dragon gaped at me—as much as a dragon can do that sort of thing. A puff of black smoke drifted from one nostril as he extended his neck, bringing his huge head inches from my face. The silvery ruff behind his skull fanned out alarmingly, and fangs gleamed from behind his lips.

“Why do you think I’m a bully? I’m protecting my clan, and your honor as well, witch, now that we’ve been forced into taking you into our family.” The dragon snorted more smoke, which smelled like burning autumn leaves.

His eyes had stopped flashing red, and were now a peculiar shade of silver that sent shivers down my spine.

“My sister meant me no dishonor,” I said, resisting the urge to push his snout away from me. “She said she didn’t put the necklace in her pocket, and I believe her. It’s my necklace, isn’t it? Shouldn’t I get to decide if anyone needs to be incinerated?”

“You?” scoffed the silver dragon. “You can’t incinerate anyone. You can’t breathe fire.”

“No, but I can call it up. I throw a mean fireball. It’s one of my better spells.” I drew myself up to my full height, which was woefully short compared to the giant dragon.

Donovan made a noise; either a muffled laugh or moan of dismay, I couldn’t tell.

“Prove it,” the silver dragon demanded. “You incinerate that cherry tree, and I will take the one next to it. First to burn to the ground wins.” He extended his neck in the direction of the two trees he’d chosen.

Muttering an apology to the tree, I took a deep breath and wakened my magic. My palm tingled, growing warmer as the fireball built up.

The dragon sucked in a noisy gutful of air, preparatory to breathing fire. Something in his belly rumbled, I didn’t want to know what. Donovan took a hasty backward step when I wound up my arm.

The dragon and I both let loose simultaneously. He opened his mouth and fire burst forth. My fireball was dwarf-like compared to his flame, but much faster. It zipped across the green and smashed into the cherry tree, which went up like a torch.

It was crumbing to ash as the dragon’s flame hit the tree next to it. It went up in a blaze of glory and collapsed, but my tree disintegrated first.

Donovan made another smothered noise. This time it was definitely a laugh, but with a tinge of horror.

Rabb’s mouth dropped open in shock. My mother cheered, jumping up and down, hampered by her long gown. Papa, who knelt in the grass next to my still-out-cold sister, gave me a grim smile of triumph. Magic still shocked him, even with two witch daughters.

“Impossible,” said Val, her eyes narrowed into slits. “She must have cheated!”

“She didn’t cheat!” rumbled the silver dragon. “I must be losing my touch. Bested by a witch no bigger than my pinkie claw.”

“I’m bigger than that!” I protested. Sure, I was petite, but not that small!

The dragon swiveled his head to fix me with his silvery gaze. He peered at me as if I were a bug on a pin that fascinated him somehow.

“You are on the puny side, admit it,” he said.

“I may be short, but my magic’s pretty tall.” I lifted my chin.

“True.” The dragon nodded. “Your sister’s life is spared. Take your wedding gift, and by Zodiac Mountain, guard it well. If you lose it a second time, someone will be punished.”

“Get going!” Donovan gave me a none-too-gentle shove. I hastily crossed to my family and knelt by my sister. The emerald necklace rested in the grass beside her hand. I grabbed it. Papa helped me put it around my neck.

“I have never been so scared and proud at the same time. You two will be the death of me, I swear,” Papa whispered in my ear before he gave me a hug as we knelt on the ground.

“This celebration is over,” the silver dragon informed the people who were beginning to gather around us. “At least for dragons. To the skies!” Weirdly graceful for such a huge beast, he rushed along the green, wings flapping, until he was abruptly airborne.

Others followed him. Dragon folk still in human form moved away so they could shift.

Soon the sky was full of blue, brown, green, and silver wings.

Two of the dragons bore human cargo. Their mates. The women sat astride what appeared to be a cross between saddles and chairs, securely strapped in.

I watched, transfixed. I’d never seen so many dragons at one time. So graceful and beautiful my throat ached.

“Stop staring and come on.” Donovan took me by the hand and led me to a clear space. A villager staggered over to us bearing the saddle chair.

“The saddle straps beneath your belly. I see now.” I stroked the soft leather.

Donovan winced and gritted his teeth. “It is not a saddle. It’s a chair mount. Watch the villager secure it. You’ll have to learn to do this yourself. And do not ever call it a saddle again. I am not your steed, I’m your husband. I bear you upon my back as a favor. I’m the one who controls our speed, altitude, and direction. You merely hang on. Got it?”

“Got it.” I tried to suppress a laugh, but apparently failed if the glare Donovan gave me was any indication.

“Something amuses you?” he inquired.

“You’ve got to admit it looks a little bit like a saddle,” I said, and Donovan ground his teeth together audibly.

“What did I just say? Do you even listen to me at all?”

“I’m listening,” I told him. “If you don’t shift soon, we’ll be the last back. Looks like they’re waiting for us, but I bet they’re mad.” I made a face. “Dragons are always mad, aren’t they? Grumpy.”

Donovan shook his finger at me, first opening, and then closing his mouth, as if he’d thought better of whatever he’d wanted to say.

“Witches are impertinent,” he muttered.

“I’d rather be impertinent than grumpy,” I said, standing back so he had room to shift.

Donovan paused to stare at me, his mouth tight. “Look, I know you’re riding high on the strength of your so-called win against Balthasar, but did it ever occur to you he was being magnanimous?”

I planted my hands on my hips. “Are you saying he let me win?”

Donovan nodded, an impatient smile lifting his lips. “He’s a wise man. Nearly a thousand years old. He’s a master of diversion. He didn’t want your sister killed any more than you did. You played right into his hands. So under the circumstances, I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you. Especially since we’re going to Zodiac Mountain where nobody wanted you to win in the first place.”

“What happened to wanting a wife who stood up for herself?” I wondered, wishing the villager wasn’t avidly taking the conversation in.

“There’s a difference between standing up for yourself and being a clown, little witch.” Donovan shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe he had to tell me these things.

A spurt of flame ignited in the grass encircling him. The flames flared high, obscuring him from view. When they died down, a massive green dragon stood where once-human Donovan had.

Tentatively, the village man approached him. Still smarting at Donovan’s words, I watched the villager secure the chair mount, then hurry away.

Donovan extended one of his front legs, obviously expecting me to use it to help me climb onto his back.

Cursing my voluminous skirts, I snatched them up to get them out of my way.

“Marley!” called my mother. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

Slowly, I turned to face her. The whole coven stood behind her, their faces full of sorrow. Renata wept silently. Great tears coursed down her stricken face.

A lump rose in my throat. This morning I’d awakened in my mother’s cottage. Tonight, I would sleep in my dragon husband’s bed, far away atop Zodiac Mountain. This was the end of an era. Although I was long grown, this almost felt as though I were crossing the threshold from child to woman.

“Be happy if you can.” Mother held out her arms, and I fell into them, choking back tears. I would not cry—especially in front of Donovan.

Mother buried her face in my neck and wept, giving way after holding back for so long.

Grandmother put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. I rocked my mother in my arms and whispered in her ear, “Oh, please don’t cry. This is a beginning, not an ending. And I think my husband is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.”

“Handsome doesn’t matter,” gasped my mother between tears. “Kindness does. Compassion matters. Is he those things as well?”

“I think so,” I said, ever the optimist.

“Don’t let him keep you away from your family,” Grandmother told me, her eyes as solemn as I’d ever seen them.

“He is standing right here,” Donovan rumbled in his dragon voice. “I would remind you that she’s my family, too. She’s not going to be alone.”

“I meant this family. Her witch family,” Grandmother said, glaring at Donovan.

“Her dragon family,” Donovan said, his eyes beginning to whirl red, “will not keep her from her witch family. Now, please say goodbye and let her go before you drown her with your damn tears.”

Grandmother kept her gaze locked with Donovan’s, refusing to look away first.

Donovan snorted, smoke erupting from his nostrils, but he turned his head to look at the sky, which had emptied of all but three dragons who continued to circle patiently.

“Goodbye, Mother.” I gently extricated myself from her clinging arms, then gave all my coven sisters a brief hug while Donovan snorted and stamped in the background.

“Finally,” Donovan muttered as I settled myself in the chair mount. I let out a small scream when he began running across the green to gain momentum to launch himself into the air.

“I’m not strapped in!” I yelled, scrambling desperately with the cinch ties that would hold me in the chair mount.

“Then I suggest you hurry.” Donovan snaked his head around to look at me. Dragons couldn’t grin, but I swore I could detect his mental smirk.

I barely had time to tie off the last cinch before we were airborne. Donovan’s wings swept up and down powerfully. The wind rushed at me, blowing the floral circlet off my head. It fluttered to the ground. My cousin Eileen ran to retrieve it and held it aloft as she waved goodbye.

The village green shrank to the size of a miniature coin. Great tree trunks thinned to stick-like proportions. How high would we go?

Donovan’s green hide gleamed in the slanting afternoon sunlight. Biting my lip, I reached out to stroke it. Was he soft as I remembered from my childhood?

“Have I given you leave to touch me?” he rumbled, sounding irritated. I snatched my hand away as if contact with his skin burned me.

The magnificent view from dragonback distracted me from my hurt feelings. Entranced, I gripped the sides of the chair mount and watched as Zodiac Mountain loomed closer and closer. For better or worse, I was committed. This would be home for the rest of my life.