He’s fierce and angry most of the time, except that day, and the day up here too. Whenever Ivy is close, he’s calmer.
Instead of lingering on what that means about my mate, I’m plagued by reminders of the academy professors trying to get me to trade him. I’m sure most others would have, opting for a softer dragon to match with, but he is the perfect reflection of me.
Flawed for sure, but his resilience, stubbornness, and sheer brutality match every inch of me.
As the wind picks up around us, I’m dragged back to the present and catch a glimpse from the corner of Alaric’s eye.
Need.
“Alaric, talk to me.”
He shuffles slightly on the spot, discomfort battling between us as he huffs, a dark plume of smoke coming from his nose.
“Alaric,”I repeat, more of a warning this time, and he seems to sigh.
“Is she okay?”
“Who?”
The side eye he gives me is enough of an answer as I drag my hand down my face.
“Ivy,” I breathe, and he heaves another sigh.
“I have to know if she’s okay.”
“She’s fine.”
“With my own eyes.”
I scoff. “We’re not doing that.”
“We have to.”
“Say’s who?”
“Me.”
“Alaric.”
He pounds his claws into the ground in frustration, reminding me of the fact that he is, indeed, two years old, and acting like a damn toddler right now.
“I can’t fly properly while consumed with worry.”
I shake my head.“Maybe it’s because I haven’t flown in a while.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“Alaric, it’s not as simple as that.”
“I’m aware of her pain and need to see her for myself, Baron. You’re forgetting I feel your anguish as my own. So you’re just as much to blame.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head.
I can’t do this today.
Not right now.
Not after what she said.
