Metanoia , HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

Chapter Fifteen

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When they landed on solid ground, they regrouped. Millie bolted immediately, crashing into Jake's arms. He cradled her head gently, murmuring tender reassurances whilst Max hugged Daemon and Bondita, never wanting to let either of them go.

"Well, it's fucked up now," Jake chuckled walking over to the three with Millie trailing after him. "What are you planning to do now?"

Max shifted away from the embrace, her eyes darting from Daemon to Jake. Thought crossed her mind that there was to Jake offering Daemon their trips to the gym. Discussions between must have taking place - mayhaps he told Jake about his dragon.

This lead Max's interests to entertain the idea. 'Were there more dragon's out there?'

"Yes, it would appear we've fucked ourselves up." Daemon grinned. "We'll start over."

"Start over?" Jake inquires with raised brows. "Now, how many times have I put myself through that?" He asks rhetorically to basically no one.

The children stayed quiet as the adults conversed. Millie walked over to hold onto Max's warm hand, in attempts to reassure herself her new found friend is still here and was out of harm's way.

"You said you owned a cabin?" Daemon questions, brows furrowing.

"In Pennsylvania, yes."

"Pennsylvania. . ." Max whispers softly, images of her friend coming to her mind.

"We'll lay low there." He declared, walking over to Caraxes who hisses at the unfamiliar dragon, always staying true territorial nature.

And so, it was then they made their journey to Pennsylvania on dragon-back. It took almost the whole night as they returned in their positions; Jake was quite excellent in navigating the stars in place of a GPS, but it was not like he had no memory of every route to take there.

Once they reached a cabin secluded from the city and into the woods, they sat down in the living area after Jake ignited a fire in the fire place.

Daemon sighs, seeing Bondita's head leaning against Millie's arm on the verge of sleeping. "I suggest everyone sleeps plentiful, it will be a restless journey come morning."

Jake led the girls to the rooms in the cabin. Max halted at her full name; she hated it whenever someone addressed by her full name. She only ever allowed Tatiana the privilege.

But somehow, when Daemon called her, it irked her at first but then it came along natural so she let the matter slide.

"Maxine."

Plopping back on the couch beside the man, she awaited for him to speak. A part of her had to question him, though.

"Are you my father?" She questions before he could even get a word out.

The question did not take him off guard as he gave many, many hints to show how much he cared for the girl; and how much he knew of her mother. "Yes, I am."

"Where were you. . .?" She inquires once more in a soft voice after a slight hesitation.

Daemon smiles sorrowfully, "Searching for my little girl. ."

Max bit her lip, eyes adrift to nothingness. "W-where is my mother?"

He was ready to answer any question but that one; he dreaded it the most. His silence proved to Max that maybe she was not around anymore but she denied this truth at all cost.

"Would you abandon me again?" She whispers, looking at him in the eyes.

"I would rather die, than let my own suffer -" before he could finish his statement, the girl crashing onto his chest. Wrapping her arms around his torso in an embrace.

They stayed in silent, the only thing that was heard was their ragged breathing and the fire crackling in the fireplace.

"The kids at school leaked my diary. . .I just. ." She rasped, nuzzling onto his chest for warmth. "I want to disappear."

Max did not want to go back and she did not intend to. She wanted to start over and if that was not possible, she would revolt. . . oddly, she wanted Daemon in her future, she needed him.

She found her father - or rather, her father found her. However confusing that may be, their fates were intertwined and she longed for a better, fullsome future.

-

Max sat in front of the grey tombstone written in delicately of her friend's name; Tatiana Belle Loannou. A small smile appears on her lips, recalling the nickname she used for her dearest friend, 'Princess' simply because her name flowed so easily on her tongue and it sounded so regal.

"Dear Tatia," the paper she held in her shaky hands rustled. "I'm not sure if you can here me. . . . A month ago, I would have thought of myself as foolish, too."

"But if you are listening, which - I know you always are, you were a very good listener. And, and. . .That's one of the things I loved about you."

Her eyes turned glassy, letting out a shaky breath and they land upon the letter she wished to read to her late friend the moment Jake mentioned Pennsylvania; where she last saw her, where she was last put to rest. "You were always there; picking me up, dusting me up and encouraging me to fight. I've. . I've fought, truly I did."

"If, if I could turn back time, you know I would have taken your place within a heartbeat. It was my fault, that day."

Shutting her eyes closed, she still see that memory. She could feel the water clogging up her wind pipes and drowning her, looking around the darkness of the cave in search for her friend. "Max!" Her friend's desperately voice would call in the pursue if finding her after their separation. "Tatiana!"

"I miss you. . ." Wiping away a stray tear, she sniffs. "It's funny, because I see you every night when I fall asleep, I hear you Everytime when I do something wrong."

"What I would give to have you back in my life, to see you lively again, to hear your tormenting lectures and your motherly nature even though you insisted you weren't. .you were more than a friend to me."

"You were like a sister. And I always wished from that day you bandaged my leg after falling off my skateboard. . . that we would both get adopted, and be like real sisters."

"Love . . your shitty friend;" she folded the brown letter slowly. "Max."

Max leaned her forehead on the headstone, taking in these moments of peace. The trees around rustled quiet and birdsong echoes in the distance - these two peaceful things were some sort of sign to her, that her friend was listening. Because, she related the gentle girl with anything as sweet and innocent as she was.