Chapter 7

The soft bed combined with the previous night’s lack of sleep knocked me out as if I’d been punched. The next thing I knew I was waking up, cramped and stiff. My formerly wet hair was bone dry, so I knew hours had passed. Maybe the whole day. Had Donovan thought I’d been sulking this entire time?

Grimacing, I slid out of the bed. The stone floor chilled my bare feet. Arms in front of me, I groped for the door handle. Living surrounded by stone would take some getting used to. I decided from now on I would carry candles and matches in my pockets because I hated stumbling around in the dark.

The hall was brightly lit, thankfully, and after visiting the bathroom and trying hard to subdue my out-of-control hair, I made my way to the kitchen hearth.

Donovan was eating toast, and not looking like he was enjoying it much.

Breakfast. Yesterday was completely gone.

“I fell asleep. I hadn’t meant to stay in the guest room for this long,” I admitted.

Donovan started in his chair, dropping his toast in the process.

“Guess I was lost in thought,” he said. “I didn’t even see you standing there until you spoke.”

“Is there any more toast?” My stomach grumbled right on cue, and a small grin lit Donovan’s face, chasing away some of the shadows in the room.

“I’ll share.” He pushed his plate across the table. I sat and munched on toast for a moment as he watched me.

“Are you still angry with me?” he asked.

“Not if you tell me there’s coffee,” I said, making him smile again.

“I’m serious, Marley.”

“So am I. Never underestimate the healing powers of coffee.” I set down the small bit of crust I had left. “And I’m not angry, precisely, but I would like to talk about it.”

“Can we talk on the way? I’ve got something to show you, and I hope you’ll like it.” The look on his face reminded me of a little child wishing for adult approval. I couldn’t resist him, even though I didn’t want to go out among the other dragon folk.

“I really ought to change my clothes,” I protested, staring with dismay at my wrinkled skirt.

“No, you really shouldn’t,” he said with a mysterious smile. “Come on.” He rose to his feet and retrieved the chair mount from its corner.

“You’re taking me away from Zodiac Mountain?” I couldn’t quite keep the relief out of my voice. The last thing I wanted was to socialize with people that I not only didn’t know, but who also made their dislike of me plain. Still, I didn’t want to be a coward.

“We’ll only be gone a couple of hours.” Donovan threw me another tantalizing smile as he rushed out into the corridor.

Frantically trying to smooth my skirts, I hurried after him.

Perhaps it was the early hour, or maybe the dragons had already forgotten I lived with them, but nobody stood in doorways ready to jeer at me. The one person we passed in the hall was Val’s daughter, who smiled shyly at me as I approached.

“Hello,” she said. Her face fell when I only smiled and didn’t respond to her.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you without your mother’s permission,” I reminded her.

Her mouth tightened mutinously. “She’s not here. And I’m thirteen, not three. My name’s Emily. You can use my name any time you want. I’m not mad at witches, and I’m especially not mad at you. You’ve only ever been nice, and I like the way Donovan looks at you when he thinks you won’t notice him staring.”

“Hey! Why are you giving me away like that? I thought we were friends!” Donovan protested with a grin, setting down the chair mount as if preparing for a conversation. I glanced warily down the corridor expecting to see Val, flaming mad, come swarming at us. Much to my surprise, the coast remained clear.

Emily giggled, but soon sobered. “Why can’t you tell the grown-ups to be nice to your wife? To be nice to all witches. What happened was a long time ago. Can’t we forget about it?”

Donovan sighed. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? Unfortunately, dragons have excruciatingly long memories to go along with their conceited egos. We hold grudges like some mothers hold their newborn babies. Tenderly and with a dedication bordering on obsession.”

“I’m not like that,” Emily declared.

“You’re thirteen. I wasn’t like that when I was thirteen either.” Donovan snuck a look at me from the corner of his eye, and I smothered a laugh. No, he hadn’t been.

“What happens when you grow up? You lose all your compassion?” Emily asked.

Donovan reached out to ruffle her hair. “I hope not, Em. I hope you never do.”

“You didn’t,” Emily said. “Did you?”

“You’d have to ask my wife that question.”

“My name’s Marley,” I spoke up. “I want Emily to know my name.”

Donovan nodded. “That’s your prerogative.” He turned to Emily. “But don’t use it in front of your parents. It’ll just antagonize them.”

“At some point, somebody’s got to stand by Marley,” Emily said. “Not you—you’re her husband and you have to. I mean somebody like me who doesn’t have to if they don’t want.”

“But not today, okay?” Donovan put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a serious look. “Give it some time. Promise me?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “You think because when I was a little girl and had a crush on you, that I’ll do whatever you say. But I’m not a little kid anymore. Soon I’ll be able to fly on my own and everything. I can make up my own mind on things like this.”

“Nobody said you couldn’t,” Donovan told her. “I’m just asking for some discretion while Marley settles in here.”

“If you ask me, the last thing she needs is discretion, if that means I have to pretend I don’t like her.” Without waiting for a response, she flounced down the hall.

Donovan heaved a sigh as he stared after her. “Kids.”

“She’s great,” I declared. “She reminds me of a dragon I once knew.”

“You still know him.” Donovan shot me a half-pleading look as he hoisted the chair mount and continued down the corridor.

“I thought I did,” I countered, hurrying to keep up with him. His legs seemed twice as long as mine. I hated to think what ludicrous lunges I’d have to do if he started rushing. “But after yesterday I don’t know anymore.”

Donovan hunched his shoulders as if to protect himself from my words, but he said nothing.

He took the staircase down to the grassy common area two at a time, which impressed me considerably since he was carrying the chair mount.

I held onto the stone railing as I descended. Prudence before haste. He waited at the bottom, impatiently shifting from foot to foot.

“These stairs are made for giants,” I complained once I reached the grass. “I have to be careful or I’ll kill myself.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Donovan said.

“Ha.” I lifted my skirts to hurry after him as he strode into the center of the clearing. “Every dragon on this mountain would line up to shove me down those stairs if they could.”

Donovan threw the chair mount down and whirled on me, his eyes ablaze. “Now, I know you’re irritated with me and this whole situation, but I really hope that was sarcastic exaggeration and not what you truly think.”

“I didn’t mean you.” I took a step backward, scared of the fury gleaming in his eyes. “Or Emily. But the rest of them, yes, I think they would kill me if they thought they could get away with it.”

“Every word out of your mouth proves how little you understand dragons.” Donovan leaned close enough to me that I could see the pulse in his temple throbbing with rage. “We are protectors. We’re not killers. Every dragon on this mountain is sworn to protect our kingdoms—and that includes every citizen in those kingdoms. Even witches!”

“You have a fine way of showing that when you torch our fields with your fiery breath,” I shouted, forgetting my fear in the burning wake of my anger.

“We have never, in twenty years, physically hurt a witch!” Donovan yelled, fists clenched.

“Oh,” I sneered. “So the criteria for protection is not physically harming anyone. Nice to know you don’t give a damn about emotionally scarring us, or financially ruining us, or endangering the king’s goodwill toward us when we can’t give him the herbs and talismans we’ve promised! That’s a dragon’s definition of protection. I see.”

“No, you don’t!” Donovan raged at me.

“Witches don’t physically harm dragons, but you sure as hell believe we’re wronging you every time one of us grows or eats one of those tubers! What dragon was stupid enough to bury that chest on witch land? Answer me that. Why wasn’t that dragon punished instead of the witches?”

“That dragon is dead,” Donovan snarled. “And I grant you that he was a stupid dragon, but he was grief-stricken when his witch wife died of old age; he didn’t want to eat the tubers anymore so he could join her. I guess you think love is stupid, too, don’t you, Marley?”

I bit my lip, and most of my rage evaporated to be replaced by regret. I hadn’t known that part of the story.

“But witches can eat the tubers. They won’t die if they do like other mortals will,” I said.

Donovan raked a hand through his hair and wouldn’t quite make eye contact with me as if he, too, were ashamed of his outburst. “He didn’t know that. Nobody did. Ironic, isn’t it? The first time a mortal spouse died after eating a tuber, the dragons forbade anyone other than dragons to grow and eat them. We had no idea the tuber’s magic worked on witches like it did on us.”

I said, “If we had known the tubers killed mortals, I’m sure we never would have tried to grow them. But when a witch finds a new plant, it’s her nature to try to nurture it and discover all she can about it. It wasn’t until Grandmother ate one and woke up the next morning looking twenty instead of eighty that we even had any idea of the tuber’s magical properties.”

“Yeah,” said Donovan, heaving a sigh. “And by the time the news got back to the Tauria dragons, every damn witch over the age of fifty had eaten those tubers, and they wouldn’t stop eating them when they realized that not only did they restore youth, but sustained it for a millennia. You stole our magic, Marley. Why can’t you see that?”

“We didn’t steal it. We found it,” I cried. “And asking us to give it back after people like Grandmother turned back the clock and rediscovered their youth wasn’t exactly fair, was it? It’s not like we were depriving you of tubers you needed. There was and continues to be enough for us all. Why can’t you accept that? I’ve known toddlers better at sharing than you dragons.”

“And you would think that witches, of all people, would respect other beings’ magic and not try to make it their own. Would you like it if we stole your plants and grew them ourselves, and gave them to the people so that your coven could no longer turn a profit and afford to keep roofs over your heads? We could have done that. It was even suggested we do that rather than flame your fields, but Balthasar has a soft spot for witches and convinced the Tauria dragons to do it his way.”

“Maybe if you’d flamed one magical field. Not dozens of them!” I wanted out of this conversation, but there was nowhere to run. “That doesn’t sound like such a soft spot to me.”

“Because you don’t understand dragons.” Donovan grimaced. “And no matter how much I try to explain things, you just keep turning it back on us as if we’re to blame for the bad blood between Tauria dragons and witches. We’re not.”

“We didn’t know what we did!” Exasperation made my tone shrill. “All I understand about dragons is that they’ve kept the feud alive all these years. The witches would have forgiven you if you’d stopped destroying our crops.”

“And there you go again.” Donovan’s mouth twisted with bitterness. “What happened to the little girl who tried to offer her favorite toy as a peace offering? She knew the witches were in the wrong, but somehow the grown woman doesn’t.”

“Bunny was more than a toy. She was my dearest companion. Grandmother enchanted her. She could talk to me as real as any person.”

“She never talked that day on the mountain.” Surprise widened Donovan’s eyes.

I smiled wistfully. “She could only talk to me, and only when we were alone. Anyway, it was just a spell. It wasn’t like she was real.”

“Except to a little five-year-old witch.” Donovan bowed his head.

“I gave her to a dragon I trusted would do the right thing with her.” I jutted my chin. “The least you could have done was bring her back when the dragon council rejected the offering. If you even presented her in the first place.”

Stunned hurt shone in Donovan’s eyes. “I didn’t know she was enchanted. I thought bringing her back would break your heart because it meant the grown-ups said no. And, of course I brought her to Balthasar and the council. In fact, I got a whipping for it.”

“What?” Horrified, I could only stare at him.

He sucked in a deep breath. “I wasn’t supposed to be flying alone, but I had to admit I had been when I showed them Bunny. They were more interested in punishing me for breaking the rules than they were hearing about a little witch’s peace offering.”

“Donovan, that’s awful.” I ached for the teen boy he’d once been. And hated myself for doubting him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring your Bunny back to you. That was thoughtless and selfish.” Donovan trudged away from me, head down. “Let’s go. Let me shift, and I’ll talk you through fastening the harnesses.”

“It wasn’t thoughtless or selfish if you didn’t bring her back because you thought I’d be heartbroken,” I called after him.

He stopped dead for a moment, half turned, but then said nothing. His expression of shame pained me.

“Let’s go,” he repeated.

Head bowed, he called up the ring of fire that surrounded him when he shifted to dragon form. Although I strained to see past the flames, the transformation occurred with such rapidity that he appeared to change from human to dragon in the blink of an eye.

I waited until he swiveled his head in my direction before I lifted the surprisingly light chair mount and carried it over to him.

He stretched out flat as he could on the grass so I could climb up his foreleg and place the chair mount on his back. I slid back down to the ground and held the straps pressed against his massive side as he slowly regained his footing. For a huge creature, he was remarkably agile.

Securing the straps beneath his belly took less time than I imagined it would for such a bewildering task because Donovan talked me through the steps. His rumbly dragon voice soothed my agitated nerves. I wanted to stroke his nose and rub the ridging above his eyes, but I remembered that dragons didn’t like to be touched except by invitation. Donovan didn’t ask to be petted by me—no doubt he considered it demeaning, but I thought it might have increased intimacy between us. That was something he probably desired as little as an uninvited touch.

I had to touch him to climb up into the chair mount, but there was no tenderness involved; it was merely practical and unavoidable unless I wanted to fall.

Once secured to the chair mount, Donovan unfurled his striking green wings and beat them with increasing force until we were airborne.

We soared through the rock archway leading into the common area and emerged above the mountain. Donovan headed north toward the village of Tauria, and my heart lifted. Were we going there where I could see Papa, Griselda, and my brothers?

Donovan flew just above the tree tops, sometimes skimming them with his great back claws. In spite of my sadness, flying like this delighted me. I could have reached out and snagged a fistful of pine needles if I’d wanted.

Above us, the sky shone glorious blue, dotted here and there with puffy clouds.

“Could we fly through a cloud?” I wondered.

Donovan rumbled beneath me. “It’s wet inside clouds. Cold, too, mostly.”

“Oh,” I said as a wave of humiliation washed over me. Why was I always asking stupid questions of him?

My stomach plummeted as Donovan veered upward. I gripped the chair mount and stared at the large white cloud above us.

We passed through it in a split-second. I barely had time to register a few splatters of wetness against my skin before we were through it and on the other side.

I couldn’t help laughing aloud, especially when Donovan rumbled the dragon equivalent of laughter, too.

I barely had time to catch my breath before he swooped down into a wide clearing, which I estimated was a few miles to the south of my coven’s land.

Donovan landed in the middle of a freshly furrowed field. The pungent smell of earth saturated my senses, and I barely thought about anything else as I undid the straps and slid to the ground.

I knelt so I could dig my fingers into the soft, crumbly dirt. Closing my eyes, I savored the connection of witch and earth. Inside me, my magic sang.

When at last I opened my eyes again, Donovan, in human form, stood before me, fully dressed and staring at me with an oddly anxious expression.

“It’s yours,” he said. “Your field to grow whatever you like. I plowed it yesterday. If I didn’t do it right, tell me. I used my claws, not an actual plow.”

I crushed the dirt in my fist and looked up at him. “You did this for me? Just for me?”

He nodded. “So you’ll have a place of your own that isn’t dark and made of stone. I can build you a little cottage, too, if you like. You can stay here for days if that’s what you want.”

“The king said I was to live with you on Zodiac Mountain.” Dirt trickled between my fingers.

“People get holidays, don’t they? Vacation getaways? Even dragon spouses.” Donovan crouched down so we were eye level. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

I sucked my lower lip between my teeth as I gathered my courage. “Would you stay with me?”

A radiant smile lit his face. “If that’s what you wanted.”

All the air in my lungs seemed to evaporate and make it impossible to breathe. “Oh, Donovan, I’m sorry. I spent my day yesterday sleeping and sulking, and you were out here plowing me a field with your bare claws. I was awful to you. I’m the one who’s always told my coven that we should try harder to make peace with the dragons, and the minute I set foot on Zodiac Mountain with that very mission I turn into a terrible person who says horrible things.” I bowed my head.

“Little witch, look at me.” Donovan took my chin between his fingers and gently forced my head up. “I said horrible things, too.”

“We did steal your magic,” I whispered. “Who else buries treasure in the ground but dragons? If only it hadn’t been a plant, Donovan. Tauria witches can’t resist things that grow. We’re grounded in earth magic. All our power comes from dirt and plants, sunshine, and water.

“Dragons flew patrols above our fields every day back then. Eleanora should have asked one of the dragons if they recognized what was in that box. Instead, she cultivated the tuber. A witch who brings a new plant into our repertoire is accorded the highest of accolades.”

I blew out my breath. “Eleanora lives for praise and glory. Her pride is legendary. If I’d found that box, I would have asked first before trying to grow it, no matter how drawn to the tuber I might have been.”

“As you’ve pointed out, you were two when that box was discovered.” Donovan’s voice, gentle and soft, sent shivers down my spine. “You had no part in what was decided. Who could blame you for following your coven’s rituals when you were old enough to eat the tubers? Certainly your own husband should support you.

“Seeing you here communing with the earth like this, for the first time I begin to receive a glimmer of understanding for why your coven did what they did. That tuber must have been like a lure is to a fish: irresistible. And once you’d tasted of the magic, how could you give it up? Even for dragons. Our egos are so immense we cannot fathom why mere mortals like witches won’t indulge us.”

Donovan smiled at me. “You say your aunt’s pride is infamous, well, that I can understand since dragons have colossal pride as well. I think that’s the biggest obstacle. Overcoming our pride.” He grinned and ducked his head. “And sharing. Dragons do not share well.”

“That’s not true,” I said. “You’ve shared everything you have with me, and you barely know me.”

He laughed under his breath. “Not quite everything, little witch. Besides, you’re my wife. What’s mine is supposed to be yours. Everything I have is yours, too, except for my greatest treasures that I keep locked away in my treasure room. Just like this field is yours alone, my locked-up treasure is supposed to be mine.”

“Everyone needs things of their own,” I told him.

“You don’t care that I lock a door in our home against you?” He let his hand drop from my chin, and the loss of his touch affected me so much I nearly lost the sense of his words.

Trying to be nonchalant, I scooted forward an inch. Anything to get closer to him.

“Don’t all dragon spouses have locked doors against each other?” I asked when he frowned at me, obviously waiting for an answer.

“Some,” he agreed. “But not all. Dragons can love with a fierce abandon. When we do, nothing is locked away.”

For a moment I couldn’t breathe. What must it be like to be loved by a dragon? I cleared my throat. “Do—I’m going to have to use names, but please don’t fuss at me—do Val and Rabb love each other like that?”

Donovan gave a great shout of laughter. “Those two? I don’t think she’s capable of loving anyone more than herself, or even half as much. You’ve seen how she treats her daughter. Even motherly love is stinted with that woman. They’re in lust for each other. Always have been since their hormones kicked in. But true love?” He shook his head. “No.”

“The dragon who lost his witch wife?” I asked.

Donovan nodded, his eyes solemn. “That’s a much better example. Yes. Their love is still talked about today. Muttered about mostly, since she was a witch and dragons don’t like witches anymore. Once, we did. Married them every chance we got, which wasn’t often since witches don’t believe in marriage, nor any lasting emotional union with men.” His tone turned wistful, but he smiled.

I shrugged. “Sometimes I think it was my grandmother who convinced my mother to break sexual ties with my father. She had two children by him, which is virtually unheard of. We’re expected to move on once we’re pregnant. We’re told it’s only fair to the men who might form awkward attachments to us, preventing them from being happy and marrying their own kind.

“Mother cried a lot when she was pregnant with Renata. I remember that even though I was little. Perhaps it was because her heart was breaking over my father.”

I thought of my short-lived relationship with Clive, the young villager who’d married someone else. If I were honest with myself, I’d admit that I cried myself to sleep the night of his wedding. I’d told myself I’d only been looking for someone to make a baby with, but maybe a part of me had started to really care about him as a person—not merely a means to an end. Except I wasn’t supposed to do things like that. Love a man that way. Family was what I should focus on. My sister witches, my father and his village family, people like that.

“Seems like beneath your witch’s practicality beats the heart of a romantic.” Donovan ran the back of his hand along the curve of my cheek, sparking an instant flame of desire inside me.

I leaned into his touch, and he sucked in a short breath before cradling my face between his palms and kissing me.

I dug my fingers into his soft hair and opened my mouth to him. We were lost, then, in each other.

“Marley.” He moaned my name as our kiss deepened. Somehow he ended up on his back with me straddling him. “My little witch. You like it in the dirt, don’t you?”

“I like it anywhere with you,” I confessed as I hastily undid the buttons on his shirt so I could kiss my way down his chest and belly.

His breath caught as I unbuckled his belt and pants. His cock sprang free, erect and hard, and I fisted it, moving my hand up and down his shaft while he strained beneath me, his face contorting with lust.

I took the tip of his cock in my mouth, licking and sucking, rousing him to a near-frenzy of desire.

“Marley!” He spoke my name with an urgency I couldn’t ignore. Lifting my skirts, I positioned myself above him, on fire to feel him inside me.

I sank down upon him, his cock sliding into my wet warmth. We both groaned, and I braced my hands above his shoulders, my fingers digging into the soft earth.

I’d never made love in a field before, but this felt supremely right. Magic bubbled inside of me, struggling to burst free.

Rituals existed to sink magic into a field; perhaps I’d inadvertently stumbled upon a lesser-used one. Sex magic.

“I bless this field,” I whispered against Donovan’s hot mouth. “Make it as fertile as the passion that possesses me at this moment. The earth shall prove fruitful and full of magic as long as I plant here.”

Magic gushed from my every pore and infused the field. I clenched my muscles around Donovan’s cock.

He cried out in shock, his eyes wide. Did he feel my magic swirling around him?

“It’s okay,” I told him as we moved together. “It’s my magic fertilizing the field.”

“Are you using me to do it?” His eyes shone a peculiar shade of green as he broke our kiss and held my face still between his palms. Deep inside me, his cock felt hard as the stones that made up Zodiac Mountain.

“Not using you. Harnessing our passion.” I tried to kiss him, but he turned his head, evading me.

“Without my permission? Do you think that’s a fair exchange? What do I get out of this?” He shoved me off of him and rolled away, fumbling with his clothing.

I hunched into a ball, wrapping my arms around my legs and burying my face in my knees. All the magic inside me fizzled out, leaving me empty and aching.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. He snorted, sounding distant as if he couldn’t put enough space between us.

“Never do that again!” he shouted. “Never use magic against me!”

I lifted my head, the world blurred by my tears. “I’ve never used magic against anyone in my life!”

“Haven’t you? What did you think you were doing when you put all those protection spells on your fields? Wasn’t that magic against dragons?”

“Only if you wanted to harm those fields!” I gained my feet in a wrathful instant. “You shouldn’t talk about magic since you obviously don’t understand it! Do you know how insulting it is to be accused of using magic against you?”

“It was against my will. I didn’t say you could use me to cast some sort of damn spell on this field,” Donovan snarled. “Maybe if you’d asked first, I would have gladly cooperated.”

“I didn’t know I could do it until it started happening!” I shouted, nearly dancing with rage. Why must he always misinterpret everything I said and did? “It seemed like the perfect way to bless the field since you gave it to me in the first place! All my magic bubbled up inside me, and it had nowhere to go. Powerful magic. Not to use it would have been a huge waste. I’ve rarely felt it so strong inside me. Except for the most basic of spells, I always need my coven to help raise my magic.

“Blessing a field is something the whole coven does together. I’ve never heard of any witch doing it by herself.”

“You weren’t by yourself, that’s the issue,” Donovan said, but at least he wasn’t shouting anymore. He looked conflicted and unsure beneath the anger still seething in his green eyes. “I was there with you. I’m not magic like you, so I can only be used as a conduit. I can’t contribute. And conduits should be asked for their help properly, not dragged into a ritual against their will simply because it’s suddenly happening.”

Shame burned through me. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Donovan said through gritted teeth.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. “Jealous because the only magic you have is eternal youth and a life that spans a millennium. And you only have that because of something you eat, not because it’s already inside you like my magic is.

“Instead of being happy to share this with me, you’ve turned this whole ritual into something shameful and wrong. I did you no dishonor. And the truth is, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Me, or any man you wanted to fuck in the dirt.” Donovan spat at his feet, his jaw jutted.

I shook my head. “You see? That’s where you’re wrong. I couldn’t have done this with any man. Just you. You make my magic sing inside me. No man’s ever done that before. And, trust me, I won’t let you do it again.

“I don’t need your help for anything, dragon. I’ll build my own cottage here. I’ll have my father help me. I don’t need you.”

I glared at him. “Unless you plan on taking this field away from me, that is.”

White lipped, he glared back. “Dragons never take back their gifts. This field is yours. Forever.”

At that moment, I hated the field and everything around it. Including Donovan and myself. My heart hurt in a way I never suspected it could.

Damn this dragon. It wasn’t possible to fall in love in two days, was it? But the swirling, hot emotion cascading over me felt like love. Twisted and unrequited, but definitely love.

This realization rushed through me, weakening my unstable muscles. Sheer will kept me from collapsing to the ground and weeping and screaming until my throat burst. I would not let him see me like that.

Donovan heaved a loud sigh and gazed upward.

“It’s time we got back. Dragons have rituals, too. Maybe not magical ones like witches conduct, but they’re important to us. We have one tonight, and you’re required to attend.”

“Against my will? Without asking my permission?” I sneered.

“Don’t push me, witch,” Donovan said past clenched teeth.

“I see,” I said.

“I sincerely doubt it,” he muttered.

Enraged, I swept on. “You have to be the benevolent one. You have to be the one giving, and I have to be the grateful little witch who is overcome with gratitude at your generosity. You won’t take anything from me, like my magic, will you? You won’t let it move through you or affect you in any way that isn’t your idea first.”

I yanked my skirts straight. “You won’t participate in my rituals unless you’re begged properly first, but I’m expected to attend yours because you demand it? As long as I’ve got things clear, that’s fine. I won’t try to do anything for you or give you anything unless you ask for it first. Things will run more smoothly that way, although I’m sure you don’t care at all how small and insignificant that makes me feel. My feelings don’t matter a bit to you. I’m glad we’ve got that straight.”

Donovan glowered at me. “Things are not straight between us, and I don’t have the time right now or the inclination to fix it. Sulk all you like. Feel as sorry for yourself as you can be. But you will show up to the ritual tonight, and you won’t make fools of the both of us like you did at our wedding. Have we got that straight?”

Cold as ice inside, I nodded my head. He waited a beat, as if expecting me to argue, then shook his head.

A ring of fire sprang up around him and he was a dragon again.

This time he didn’t talk me through securing the chair mount, and I was damned if I’d ask for help. After I’d climbed aboard and strapped myself in, I had to hope he would’ve told me I’d done it wrong so I wouldn’t fall to my death during our flight back to the Zodiac Mountain.

Heart pounding, I waited for the chair to slip and me to tumble out when he sprang into the air, but everything stayed fixed in place.

I couldn’t even enjoy the sweeping vista of forest and river beneath his wings as we made our way. Sick rage and humiliation churned within me until I wanted to vomit. Instead, I sat stiff as mountain stone until we landed in the common area.

I didn’t wait for Donovan to get dressed after shifting back to human. I refused to carry the chair mount either. Clutching my skirts, I climbed the second staircase and stomped back to our quarters.

If anyone jeered at me from doorways, I didn’t hear it past the blood roaring in my ears.