The Dragon's Match

XXXV

"Yes, of course." The satyr nodded in understanding, a tight smile curling his wide lips. "I'll allow you a moment to converse in private then, before escorting you back to the estate house."

With that, he sauntered away from the trio, his hind legs making swift work of the short incline that led to the road that would wind back to Ravensfield.

"You are not yourself," Enorae commented. It was unwelcome, and Aëghan refrained from glancing at her, knowing there would be a scowl on his face that she didn't deserve. "This is closer to everything you have wanted for our kind, yet I do not have to be Della to know that you are less than appeased."

"Closer," he grated. His chest constricted- it was closer. A part of land protected by one of the most influential and wealthiest human families in the world- his kind would want for little and have the freedom to the same rights in all aspects of commerce and dignity, at least while they were within Ravensfield boundaries. "Yet no closer to returning to our home."

Enorae was silent, but he could feel her big, doe-like eyes on his profile in an intent and perceptive manner. "Will you only be happy once you leave this realm, Aëghan?" she asked in length.

He considered her question, his eyes tracking Dellanae as she leapt from mud puddle to mud puddle, serving only to ruin every item of clothing the seer had donned that day. "What else is there for me, if not that?"

"Lillian?" Enorae tossed her head, her fingers tapping against the weathered plank beneath them. "Or have you already managed to push her away?"

He ignored that question entirely, irked and damn lonely. Trust Enorae to find just the wrong thing to say to him to make him feel even more wretched than he already was. "You wish to stay in this realm?" he asked, his voice too sharp, too severe, but right then he found he couldn't control it and that made him feel like the ultimate cad- lashing out at one of his only friends because he was heartbroken and furious. "You were nothing but a piece of chattel- entertainment fodder for a bored lord and his peers- when I found you. Beaten, raped- it took years for you to find a modicum of the female you used to be. After all this, can you honestly tell me you wish to stay?"

She said nothing, and he couldn't bear to look at her, couldn't live with himself if he saw the hurt on her visage, or worse yet- the shame and anguish. He had no right evoking her past and those tainted memories, but Enorae placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. When he turned to look at her then, there was no censure in her gaze. There was understanding, a kindness that he didn't deserve. He pawed at his chest uselessly.

"What is this really about, Aëghan?"

His annoyance and bitterness expelled from him in a deep sigh. He blinked, averting his gaze, turning slightly so that his back rested on the wood of the fence. He was sure it would give at any moment, but he hardly cared if he ended up in the mud at this point, and the apology he wished to utter to the female felt bitter against his tongue. "I have lost her," he told Enorae. "I have lost her, and I feel like I am losing my purpose. I can return to our realm and leave her, or abandon the cause and be with her."

"You're a fool, Aëghan."

He cast her a lackluster glare. "You would have me break a promise? I have worked tirelessly for years, building on a premise that I could give us all a better life-"

She slapped the back of his head, sending his hair flying over his brow and his chin jerking towards his chest. "An idiot of the first degree," she snapped. "We follow you because of the better life you have given us, you reprobate! We have made the best of our existence, your people are happy and thriving, yet you think we want for more? Gods, am I ever thankful that I have no affinity for the male species if this is what other woman must deal with..."

Aëghan rubbed the back of his head and his chest simultaneously, her words sitting heavily on his mind. The breath in his lungs had stalled and he didn't think he was able to get in a decent amount. "She is going to marry someone else, someone who would make a better duke-"

"You have governed us for years! What makes you believe you are any less capable? You made a group of homeless, wildly uninhibited creatures capable of surviving and turning profits in the span of a year."

"But, marriage-"

He thought she may hit him again, judging by the look on her face. Behind them, he heard Dellanae noisily romp up to them, the mud making obscene noises as she scraped her feet and skirts through it.

"Then don't marry her," Enorae told him, rolling her eyes. "Just be with her."

"It's not that simple," he grated, his chest past unbearable at this point. His head spun, his breaths heaving, and he fisted his hand against his sternum and squeezed. "Gods, is there any reprieve for my lungs? It feels they are being crushed by my ribs or-" He bit off his words, running his hand through his tousled hair. His heart had increased in tempo too, almost spurred on by a sense of panic. Gods, was he about to expire of anxiety? Was this how Lillian felt all the time? "There is a stipulation in her father's last will and testament- neither sister would be entitled to Ravensfield unless they were married, that there needs to be a husband to fulfil the role of duke-"

"I can fix that," Della said innocently, causing both Aëghan and Enorae to turn to her in perplexity. She stood knee deep in thick mud on the other side of the fence, her face and arms spluttered in filth with grass and twigs sticking out of her wild hair. "Bit of magic," she added, snapping her fingers and giving them a toothy grin. "Nothing to it."

There was a pivotal moment of silence where he felt something burst in his chest, the pressure easing with a whoosh from his lungs, and he sucked in his first unhindered breath in what must be days. A roar had filled his ears, his mind, and the darkness of the dragon's thoughts encroached with a vehemence he couldn't contain even if he wanted to.

The cogs of his mind worked quickly and efficiently, an idea taking root so prevalent and astounding he was shocked he hadn't conceived of it sooner. And just like that a sense of undeniable urgency overtook him. He had dallied too long, the mark searing his skin in protest at being at odds with his heartmate for nigh three days, and he knew with very little doubt that his actions presently were impetuous and hot-headed.

But he didn't care. Not anymore.

His body shifted, bones lengthening, skin shifting and stretching, the air becoming static and thick around them, and where he once felt wretched and desolate was replaced by the dragon's exuberance, his certainty so abundant he could think of nothing else.

Then his wings snapped, and the filthy seer was snatched from the mud, and all at once they were airborne, soaring through the currents of wind while Della whooped with glee, his great limbs propelling them forwards with graceful leaps and swoops towards Ravensfield.

Towards Lillian.