Ruler of the Mind

19 Winter

He wondered if they would have veggie pizza for dinner. He could eat the meat but preferred not to. He was already going to pay the price for having eaten meat and used his gift to chase Mitsy's enemies. It changed his gift, but that change cost a man.

Ri altoir aigne could influence, call, or control another. It could also destroy, capture, and completely possess. It was far more dangerous than dreamwalking or dreaminverting. It was both direct and personal.

It wasn't pretty. As a spy, he'd always been careful to eat both ways. Once his dragon slept, he'd lost the use of his gift. Winter had gone vegetarian as his talent had slept until Mouse woke it up.

For Mouse, he'd eaten meat and chased her enemies. None had escaped him. He'd possessed them easily after capturing them. Only because he was bringing them to be turned into dragonsworn servants for her had he not destroyed their minds completely.

His gift exceeded even what the demons were capable of. He wielded a fraction of the magic of life and death. He held a piece of the dream in his mind and could use it as both an offensive and a defensive weapon.

He'd never wanted that talent, yet he owned it when he was resurrected as a dragon. Then it was to learn it or be destroyed. He had learned. Necromancers were exacting teachers. He'd learned it all.

Once he'd watched as blood ran from the ears, nose, and eyes without any sympathetic thought or emotion for his victims. Still, he preferred not to use his ability that way. He suffered to do that.

Only Blaze and Flare knew the damage it caused him to work like that. The minute he left the stillness, the clock started ticking until the physical revulsion at what he'd done set in.

When Blaze had found Winter retching up blood with a splitting headache and bone-deep body aches after destroying one of the king's enemies from inside his mind, Blaze had disallowed him to use his gift unless other methods failed.

Flare had offered him weed to help with his discomfort after finding him prostrate on the barracks floor a day after completing another mission. Winter had clued him in about the use of his gift, swearing the other man to silence. His weakness need not be advertised.

Flare had kept his mouth shut. The elemental-crafted dragon always had been the doctoring type and helped his fellow dragon, Flash, after other missions when he could. The weed eased the pain to an almost tolerable level and helped curb nausea.

Winter had learned to shield his mind and then had learned the methods of torture as a necessity. Losing days from his life to blinding pain and incessant purging wasn't good, but it had sometimes been the only option.

It had always been easier to stay on the light side of magic as he lacked the stabilizing balance of his lifemate. Defense mechanisms such as shields didn't hurt. It was the offensive invasion of another's consciousness that always cost him.

To avenge his Valkyrie, he'd walked in the dark. He'd decided that the price was worth it. He would pay it without regret. She deserved the best he had to offer her. He refused to fail by not delivering that to her.

Winter made it through the barn raising before the purge hit him. When there was nothing left to vomit, he made his way back to the room he'd shared with Misty the night before. He ached miserably and the blinding headache made everything seem loud and bright.

He walked into the room and stripped off his sweaty clothes on the way to the bathroom leaving a trail of clothing articles in his wake. He let the water run in the tub and sank into the cold water allowing that cold to ease the pain in his head and his body as he lay back against the tub. He idly wondered if anyone had any weed. Human medications didn't work, but weed helped. He would seek that when Misty returned with her servants.