Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Saint reached the middle of the athletic field and then turned to face me. He took a deep breath and let it out and I saw a look of relief cross over his face. He had told me this was the longest he’d ever gone keeping his Drake bottled up inside since it had first come out so it must feel good to finally let it go free, I reasoned. Still, I wasn’t prepared to see the man I loved suddenly disappear…and see a twelve-ton beast take his place.
Saint’s Drake was enormous—even bigger than the one Ari had inside him. It had shimmering black scales that seemed to glow with a crimson light in the moonlight. The undersides of its vast wings were blood-red—it spread them wide as it turned its vast, car-sized head to look at me.
No, not ‘it’—him, I told myself firmly. Saint’s Drake was a male just like he was and he had the same possessive characteristics that all Drakes had. In fact, I could feel that possessiveness coming out of him like a hot wave. The look in his flaming eyes—which looked like pools of boiling lava—was one of intense need.
“I think you’d better go to him, Avery.” Ari’s deep voice was hushed. “His desire for you will make him reckless soon if you do not.”
“But what if it’s not safe?” Kaitlyn protested.
“What if he hurts Avery?” Megan and Emma demanded at the same time.
“Hush, girls—I’ll be fine.” I tried to keep my voice light though inside it felt like all my organs had turned to lead. The enormous predator who was bigger than a T-rex and probably twice as unpredictable, was expecting me to go “cuddle” with him and there was no way of backing out of it unless I wanted him to fry not just me, but all my friends.
Sometimes you just have to do something. You can’t let yourself think about it—even a little—or you’ll talk yourself out of it. So I dropped Megan and Kaitlyn’s hands and just started walking.
“Oh Avery, be careful!” I heard Emma say and there was panic in her voice.
I was tempted to feel the same emotion myself, but I knew I couldn’t afford it. If I started freaking out, I would freak out the Cursed Drake and then who knew what damage he might do? Stealing myself for anything that might come—including my imminent demise—I walked right up to him.
What else could I do?
33
AVERY
I had expected the Drake to snatch me up at once in one of his enormous clawed hands but to my surprise, he just looked at me with those burning eyes—each one bigger than my head, I might add. It was hard to be this close to him—I could feel the Curse on him.
Someone else without magic might have interpreted it as “bad vibes” but for me, since I’m so sensitive to the magic of others, it was like standing next to a demon at the gates of Hell. There was something malignant in him—something rotten that needed to be carved out if he was ever going to be whole. It was like a cancer—a tumor—and it was poisoning his entire existence.
We stared at each other and I wondered what to do next. Then I remembered how Kaitlyn had interacted with Ari’s Drake the first time she’d ever met him. Tentatively, I lifted a hand.
“Can I touch you?” I asked the Drake, raising my eyebrows.
He already had his head lowered, or we couldn’t have looked eye-to-eye, but now he made a very soft snort which sent a puff of gray smoke from his flaring nostrils. I took this as a yes and since he didn’t back away from me, I put out a hand and laid it on his long muzzle.
The black scales beneath my hand were hot to the touch, as though he had a supernatural fever—or a furnace inside, which was more likely, considering what he was. But they weren’t quite hot enough to burn me, so I held my hand there and concentrated on communicating.
The Drake was trying to communicate with me too. I felt a wild, confused rush of emotions and a jumble of images crowded my mind. I saw myself and Saint holding hands, sitting together, looking into each other’s eyes and I felt the Drake’s longing to have the same kind of closeness with me. It was like Saint had said—he really did just want to cuddle me.
But under all that chaos and need, I felt pain and bewilderment too. The curse Saint’s Drake was under was clouding everything, causing him intense agony and making it hard to think or reason normally.
It made me think of someone with a mental illness, like schizophrenia. He honestly couldn’t help the way he was—this evil magic had colored his entire life. He didn’t want to be a raging lunatic anymore than someone with cancer wants to be sick—but he couldn’t help it. He was stuck.