The Dragon’s Throne 1

He hugged her again, the rapid beating of his heart loud enough for her to hear when her ear was press against his chest.

“I’m not hurt,” she said, her voice angry.

“Then what’s wrong?  What are you doing out here-” he stopped, took in the dirt and leaves that covered her boots and let out a huge breath.  “You were trying to escape,” he said.

He looked deflated, and Anna felt instant guilt.  She tried to shake off the feeling, but it held onto her, making her feel like a complete jerk for even trying to run away.

What is wrong with me?  Why did she care if his feelings seemed to be hurt?  No one had asked her if she wanted to be kidnapped.

“Where are we?” she asked, not answering his question because she knew that it was more of a statement than anything, and she didn’t want to sound defensive when she explained herself. 

She had every right to want to leave.  Didn’t she?

“We’re in a place called the Castle above the clouds.  It’s not accessible by any other means except flying here.”

“So, you weren’t worried that I would leave because you knew I couldn’t leave?”

“No.  I didn’t worry you would leave because when we spoke about it, you promised that you would give me a chance to show you a better world.  You haven’t even been here twenty-four hours, and you’re already going back on the promise you made.”

“I made that promise because I wanted you to believe me so that I could escape.”

“I see that now.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, not even knowing why.

“You don’t have to be sorry.  This is such a simple matter for dragons that I forget that humans don’t know what we know when it comes to matters of the heart.”

She tilted her head, confused. 

“I don’t get it.  What do you know?”

He sighed heavily.

“Remember when I asked you at the first day of Festival if I knew you?”

“Yes.”

“It’s because you looked familiar.  So familiar.  I thought at first I was just mesmerized by your hair, but then I looked into your eyes and I knew that I had looked into those same jade green eyes before.  But it wasn’t until later that day that I understood.”

When Anna didn’t respond, he smiled reassuringly. 

“I think it would be better if I showed you,” he said.  “Please?”

She nodded, following him into the house, her desperate bid to escape forgotten.  He led her down the hallway that went by the library, but they kept walking until they got to the end of the hall.  They went through a door that had been skipped in their earlier tour, and led her into a room that looked like a cross between an office and an art studio.

There were paintings and drawings of every shape and size spread about the room.  Some were so breathtaking that to Anna, they almost looked like real life trapped inside a canvas.  She walked to each one, regarding them carefully as Eli spoke.

“It’s normal for WereDragons to have dreams about their future mates,” he began, talking calmly while she perused his collection of art.  “The dreams start early; sometimes from puberty, sometimes sooner.  Occasionally, the dreams don’t start until adulthood, or they start early and taper off for years before they start up again.”

“Did you paint all these?” she asked, interrupting him.

“I did,” he said.

“You’re so talented.  This one looks like it might leap off the paper.”

“Thank you.  But these paintings aren’t why we’re here.  I want to tell you about the dreams.”

“The WereDragon dreams,” she offered to prove she’d been listening.

“Yes.  I started having my dreams very young; my mom thought that I was having them before my second birthday, but I couldn’t really explain the dreams, so it’s hard to tell.  I don’t remember them.”

“Is that young?”

“It’s very young, and it only happens when the Fated Mates are similar in age, or the person dreaming early is much younger than their intended mate.  My dreams went on for years and became almost a nightly thing.”

“That must have been frightening,” she said, not really knowing what else to say. 

She didn’t even know if they were scary dreams, but it seemed like a good bet since he was so affected by them.

“Not scary at all.  In fact, I dreamed about the same person almost nightly.  She was always the same age as I was, and she was so vibrant and happy in my dreams.  When I turned ten, I started to draw my dreams, much to my mother’s concern.”

“If they weren’t scary, why did it bother her?”

He walked to the first painting, drawing her attention back to it without answering her question right away.

“This is the first painting I did that was more than just the scribbling of a small child.  Do you recognize this place?”

“I do.  It’s the part of the river that’s open on both sides.  I see you drew a picnic basket here, and a lovely day that was probably perfect for a day spent under the sun.”

“It was,” he said.  “Do you see what’s in the water?”

She stepped closer, peering into the painting and scanning the long, snaking river until she saw something that didn’t belong.

“I didn’t see that before.  Is that a person?”

“It is.”

“It’s a woman, but she has wings?”

“It’s a WereDragon in human form, trapped in the water.”

“Why doesn’t she just fly out of the water?”

Eli shook his head.

“Dragons can’t shift when they’re pregnant,” he said.  “It’s not common knowledge, but it used to be a few decades ago when human and dragon lives were still intertwined after the Great War.”

“Why did she get close enough to fall in if she was pregnant and knew she couldn’t save herself?”

“Like anyone else, WereDragons don’t always know that they’re pregnant right away.”

“That’s sort of an odd subject for a ten-year-old to paint,” she said, moving onto the next one.

“It is, but my mother knew right away what was going on.  She didn’t tell me at first, but she just let me continue, and she watched.”