I get up and move to his mini bar, pretending to look at the drinks. My desire for him is twisted and wrong on so many levels. At first it was just the attraction, but now it’s much more than that. Jorgen’s always found my scar repulsive, and nothing’s changed, as far as I know anyway.
“I’ll go look for Jetli and Lenin. We should leave tonight. No one knows how long the Warlock’s planning on staying in Rivenna,” I say, turning around and Jorgen stands up to. He walks up to me, and now his old confidence and determination is back.
“I’m sorry if I interrupted your conversation with Lucas, Astri. He’s a mage and you’re a Wyvern. Maybe you should be more careful,” he says unexpectedly and I open my mouth to tell him it’s none of his business, but then think better of it. For a moment, we’re staring at each other in silence, and I wonder why he cares if Lucas is taking me out or not. He should be worried about Cassandra and her master plan of seduction.
There are no more words between us, just the deep, cutting shame when I think about that night in the Decaying Mountains and wild shifters.
I force myself to turn around, muttering I would be back soon. Once I’m outside the door, I shut my eyes and breathe in for several moments, steadying my racing heart. I’m slowly turning into a lust-crazed shifter.
“Astri, what are you doing? Isn’t that the lordi, lord’s chamber?” Lenin questions, throwing me back into the real world. He and Jetli are flying around me, their tiny faces are smudged with chocolate.
Of course they’ve been in the kitchen, hunting for more sweets.
“Don’t worry about it, Lenin. I need your help. We’re going to see a Warlock in the old mill and you two need to change Jorgen’s appearance so no one will recognise him,” I explain.
The Pixies get excited straight away and we enter my room, preparing for tonight. No one must know, and hanging around outside Jorgen’s chamber will attract too much attention. Jetli’s stretching her arms, trying to prepare herself for using her magic while I explain to them what happened in the Decaying Mountains. Lenin makes me feel a little guilty that I haven’t told them about Jorgen earlier, but he understands I was obliged to keep a secret. A few minutes later, I knock on the duke’s chamber door.
Lenin tells Jorgen not to worry about anything–Jetli’s already flying over Jorgen’s head sprinkling her dust around him. I stare, fascinated how she plays around with his looks.
I have various flasks in my bag just in case anything goes wrong tonight, pushing away any doubts. Warlocks are dangerous and I won’t be able to hide my true nature.
“Black hair, Jetli and I think Jorgen needs to have darker skin too,” I tell her as she continues, tensing her facial muscles, concentrating.
It takes her half an hour to change Jorgen into someone completely different. The new duke has dark, black hair, and his skin’s a shade of caramel. Jetli’s given him exotic features, making him look like a mage from another country. At least I don’t have to worry about losing control when I’m around him.
Emilia would’ve already hooked me up with someone if she knew my dilemma, but for some reason I don’t want to ask her for help. I need to find a mage or shifter I feel attracted to, one who could truly be my partner.
“Jetli’s magic is incredible,” Jorgen says, staring at his reflection in the mirror, while touching his face. He’s convinced the Warlock won’t see the real him beyond Jetli’s glamour. Lenin pats his sister proudly on her back, commenting he can use magic too, but he’s just lazy. “We should leave right away. We can’t waste any more time. Do you know where the old mill is, the one where people sneak off to?
“Yes,” I say, remembering my failed spell that unexpectedly gave me the power to become invisible. The scar on my cheek may never be removed and I’ve learned to live with it.
The four of us leave Jorgen’s chamber after sunset. My Pixies are hidden behind my collar, and I’m tempted to become invisible, but revealing my ability in front of the duke is a bad move. I don’t want him to know about my ability just yet. No one, apart from my Pixies know about it, and for now I need to keep it that way.
A few maids and guards greet me and I pretend fake Jorgen is a friend who I’m showing around the castle, but he can’t seem to escape intense stares from the guards outside.
I’m hoping I still have a few months before I’m forced to take on a mate. I can’t really talk to Emilia about it, because she’s a witch. Other shifters have families, and I have no idea what to expect. On top of everything, it’s a taboo subject, it’s normally discussed behind closed doors. It’s bad enough I’ve never kissed anyone before, always conscious that any shifter would likely be turned off by the scarring on my cheek.
Everything’s going smoothly until we make it to the courtyard.
“Hey you … Jorgen’s assistant,” shouts the annoying voice I’ve come to recognise, after me and I stop, turning around. Jorgen curses under his breath when we see Cassandra approaching with her guard. I really hope Lenin and Jetli are going to behave because her timing sucks. We need to keep moving.
“Hello Cassandra,” I say, trying to ignore Falcon who’s literally trying to hurt me with his intense stare. She glances at me up and down like she’s measuring if I’m worth her attention. Then her eyes slowly stay on my scar and she cringes.
“You should address me properly, girl. I have a royal blood in my veins. And what’s this mage of mixed colour doing here?” she asks, with a mocking tone, pointing at fake Jorgen.
At that point, I realise Jorgen still sounds like himself and I glance at him nervously, hoping he knows not to say anything.
“Cali isn’t a mage, my lady. He’s one of my human friends just visiting me and I’m walking him back to the city,” I lie, knowing Cassandra probably thinks I’m beneath her. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact she’s going to be married to Jorgen at some point. She truly believes she’s a superior mage – I’m beneath her snooty, royal arse.
Her dark haired guard chuckles and she smiles.
“Well, he shouldn’t be in the castle. Humans are worthless. Have you seen Jorgen? I need to speak to him right away,” she snaps at me, and tosses her blond hair behind her. She’s wearing crimson red lipstick and her makeup looks immaculate. I recognise Emilia’s paper bag with the symbol of Poison Ivy on the front.
It looks like Cassandra’s going ahead with her plan. I don’t know why I’m even surprised. She’s looking to be engaged to the Duke of Rivenna by the time she returns to her country.
“I’m sorry, my lady, but I’m not sure. Have you checked in his chamber?” I ask as sweetly as I can, and fake Jorgen shifts his weight to the side. He must know Cassandra adores putting people in their respective places according to her standards. I have no idea why he’s obligated to fulfil his father’s wishes, especially if he doesn’t love her.
“Well, I’m heading there now, but I assumed he was with you,” she adds, shaking her head as if I wasted her time. “Things will change around here when I settle with Jorgen, you must realise that.”
She carries on walking before I have a chance to respond. I glance at fake Jorgen, who seems frustrated. So many things are on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back–it’s not my place. He just got a full dose of her venom. If he still wants to marry that wretched excuse for a mage, royalty or not, then it’s on him. She can kiss my non-royal, Wyvern arse. “Address me properly” – with a punch to the throat.
“Lady Cassandra’s so mean lordi lord,” Lenin mutters and I don’t need to look at Jorgen. My life’s going to take a new turn if the duke in fact does end up marrying her. The future’s uncertain, but I need to stop worrying about things that don’t concern me. We carry on walking towards the city, and awkward silence makes me uncomfortable. Guards are still staring at us, until we disappear behind the gate.
The sky’s clear tonight, there’s not a cloud in the sky. A few shifters are rushing home, but the streets are immersed in silence – it’s strange. There ar
en’t as many cars on the street as usual. The light in the street lamp is flickering above us. There’s a silent battle going on deep in my heart. I know about Cassandra’s plans and I have no idea if I should tell him she’s going to slip a love potion into his drink. But haven’t I done enough? He deserves to know he’s about to be tricked.
“Cassandra can be intense sometimes, Astri. Don’t take her comments too personally,” he finally says, when we pass several buildings and walk through a human populated area.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, I’m just your assistant, remember,” I say.
“I understand but, Cassandra should at least try to be more polite. I’ll talk to her about it, Astri. I feel responsible for you and trust me I do care if you’re being insulted, especially in my company. Your role as my assistant should be respected, even by her,” he adds, and heat pours inside the pit of my stomach. Again. The tiny voice in my head reminds me he still cares and that I’m wrong about my dreams–I need to stop this crazy war going on inside my head. Lenin and Jetli are catching on to every word, probably aware my magic is going berserk. I need to calm down, because my hormones are getting me into real trouble.
“You don’t need to defend me, I can take care of myself,” I say, with annoyance in my tone and he must sense it, because he doesn’t say anything else until we pass a familiar street.
“That’s your aunt and uncle’s home, right?” he asks half an hour later, and I stop abruptly finally recognising the street where I spent the past eleven years of my life. I was so absorbed with my thoughts I didn’t realise I was heading this way. A cold shiver crawls over the back of my neck, worried my toxic relatives might be watching me now.
“Yes, it’s their street,” I respond, and intentionally pick up the pace. Mrs. Dima’s looking out her window, and I already know sooner or later she’s going to mention to my aunt she saw me passing by with a strange, dark man. Fantastic.
“How did you end up with them?” the duke continues asking questions. I drag my hand through my hair, thinking about changing the subject. It’s still painful for me to talk about my past, especially with the mage who might be responsible for all my misfortunes according to my dreams I’m beginning to hate. The confusion is grating on my nerves. I know what I heard in the corridor–it’s the most concrete evidence I’ve had about my parents’ murderer.
“My parents died in a fire and I had nowhere else to go. My father’s side of the family didn’t want to take me in, so I ended up with my human aunt and uncle.”
“And your scar, that’s where you got it from?” he presses.
“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth. The fact that I’m still not completely sure if it was him or not makes me furious. I need to confront him once and for all just to get it over with. I want to scream and tell him the truth, but instead I add. “I saw Cassandra earlier in Emilia’s shop. She was buying the strongest love potion Emilia’s ever produced.”
Jorgen stops and grabs my hand. Violent sensations of fiery heat travels down my spine, igniting my blood–I feel like I’m on fire from the inside out. I can’t catch my breath all of a sudden, feeling dizzy and flustered. The blazing inferno reaches down into the depths of my entire being. He’s the reason I’m falling into an oblivion of lust. His touch wakes up a part of my beast that’s already searching for a mate.
“Astri, are you all right?” he asks, coming so close to me, invading my personal space. I close my eyes, feeling a wave of ecstasy inside my core. No, I’m not all right! Holy shit. This can’t be happening… right here in the middle of the street!
I grab him and squeeze his arm, trying to get ahold of myself, but it’s hard to even get my thoughts in order, let alone breathe normally. Images of us together, tangling limbs and endless writhing in his bed are rushing through my head–the steady beats between my legs are torturous. Hommis, help me.
“There’s something wrong with her, lordi lord,” I hear Lenin whispering to the duke and Jetli’s flying around, squeaking with concern. I need him to make love to me right now, otherwise I might go crazy with desire. There’s no way I can keep going on like this–it’s unbearable. I hate the new me, suddenly detesting being a shifter. It’s embarrassing. What am I? A cat in heat who can’t control herself? Dammit!
A split second later, the instant desire is gone, and I can breathe normally again. Thank Hommis. My heart pounds in my chest and I finally open my eyes, seeing three pair of eyes staring down at me. I keep on breathing, telling myself I need to find a way to overcome these attacks of desire, otherwise my future in the castle looks rather bleak.
Chapter 8
The warlock’s magic.
“I’m fine, I just felt a bit dizzy. Can you guys chill out?” I ask, acting like my dizzy spell’s not a big deal. Being a dragon shifter isn’t at all glorious like others may think. My life isn’t filled with magic, laughter and wild adventures. I need to remember I have human genes too, inherited from my mother’s side. That’s the main reason I didn’t go through a heat season a few years ago. Most female dragon shifters don’t have to worry, because they’re married by the time they have to deal with their excessive hormones. Everything always has to be backwards with me, and somehow I just need to deal with it–soon.
I move past Jorgen and continue to carry on walking through the streets. My knees feel a bit wobbly and my vision’s blurry. At least the fire’s gone and I don’t feel so aroused anymore. Jorgen catches up with me, and my Pixies fly around me, watching me closely.
“The lordi, lord is only trying to help, Astri,” Lenin points out.
“It’s all right Lenin, Astri’s fine,” Jorgen mutters and Lenin keeps poking me on my cheek, so I wave my hand, telling him to finally give it a rest. At least Jetli doesn’t push me to talk about my feelings. She only stares at me with her wide, brown eyes, like she already knows what I’m going through. “Tell me again about Cassandra and the love potion.”
I want to slap myself in the face, regretting I said anything at all, but Jorgen has a right to know, and this has nothing to do with my own conflicted feelings. Cassandra’s ready to use a strong enhancement to make him propose to her. Jorgen’s hesitating, afraid she might discover his secret.
Jorgen’s looking at me, expecting me to answer and I chew my lip for a little while, thinking how not to come across as a jealous freak.
“Yes, I saw her earlier in Emilia’s shop. She was purchasing the love potion–two bottles to be exact, so you can figure out what she’s planning to do with it,” I say, noticing a few humans by the local store staring at us. The mill’s only a five minute walk from here and my magic begins to prickle over the surface of my skin. The Warlock’s magic is powerful and Jorgen’s putting his own life at risk, just to become a mage again. There’s no right or wrong here, I would do exactly the same if I were in his shoes.
He walks silently beside me and I have no idea what’s going through his mind. His expression’s unreadable as always.
“My father was well and full of charisma when he made this arrangement with Victor, Cassandra’s father. Then he fell ill and never told me what he had done. Cassandra isn’t a woman I would’ve chosen voluntarily, but I have to think about Rivenna’s future. Her father’s been my family’s ally for years and if I turn her down it might create a serious conflict,” Jorgen states, dragging his hand through his hair. I see indecision in his eyes–he’s only going to go through with this to save Rivenna from hardship.
“Mr. lordri, lord, having a wife is a lot of hassle, but being high on love potion is way too dangerous,” Lenin comments and I want to laugh. Jorgen might not be affected by the potion like he would’ve been when he was a mage. The reality of the situation just settled in, realising the potion won’t be as effective. He’s nearly human now.
Jorgen smiles too and finally the tension in my shoulders eases off. The deep, cutting shame remains. The duke is humble now, and just doesn’t fit the cruel, mage from my vision. The one who admitt
ed to torturing my father and mother.
“Yes, Lenin I realise that,” he mutters. “Thank you, Astri for letting me know. I’m not ready to get married, and first I need to find a way to bring my dragon back. It wouldn’t be fair to Cassandra. I would have to lie to her and I don’t think I’m ready to go through with something like that.”
We’re approaching the old mill, and I’m glad we don’t have to discuss this again. There’s black smoke coming out of the chimney and the smell of burnt rubber wafts through the air. I heard once that one of the politicians from the human side of the city was planning to knock the mill down, but Governor Pollock opposed his idea, saying he may convert it into his office sometime in the future, so the mill still remains untouched.
“We’re here,” I announce, apprehensive about what might happen. A pulse of energy leaves me and I sense the Warlock most likely left some protective charms around the perimeter. Power crackles over my knuckles, warming me up. Jorgen doesn’t feel anything, but the Warlock’s warning us to stay away. Snippets of unfriendly energy caress my face and scar. Only Emilia has that kind of magic. Most witches and wizards have to train for years in order get to her level. Warlocks are still a mystery to most shifters. Despite her great and sensitive nature many mages are aware her power is extraordinary, that’s why she’s so famous in Rivenna. Times have changed, but the rules of any witch coven remain strict. Many of them don’t accept new members, unless they vet them heavily beforehand.
“Maybe you should stay here, Astri. You’re a Wyvern and it’s too dangerous to tempt a Warlock like that,” Jorgen suggests.
He’s right in a way, but even my Pixies will agree, I would never decide to stay behind. Jorgen’s weak and nearly human–he can’t defend himself against magic. It’s a suicide mission.