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“Exactly. It doesn’t change a thing.”
“Very well. But it’s unlikely I’ll ever be in human form again. I fully intend to force Thelise to do the spell properly and transform the women into dragons, as I intended.”
“Of course,” says Serylla brightly. “And I fully intend to despise you for it.”
I rumble agreement. Yet oddly enough, now that we’ve made our little arrangement, I find myself hoping that last night wasn’t my only time in human form. I rather wish it would happen again.
When we land on the ledge of Ashvelon’s cave, I’m surprised to see him pinning the enchantress down with one huge, dark-gray claw. Her purple skirts are tangled around her thighs, her arms are flung outward, and her hair is strewn across the rocky floor. One of his claws is hooked into the bodice of her gown, tugging it so low her breasts are nearly exposed.
As I prowl forward, Ashvelon retreats swiftly from the enchantress, snorting and chuffing with embarrassment.
“Oh god,” murmurs Serylla. “Was he about to kill her or fuck her?”
I choose to ignore her comment, but the enchantress stands up, adjusting her neckline, and says, with a sly half-smile, “I was wondering that myself. Hello there.” She flutters her fingers at Serylla. “I’m Thelise.”
“Witch,” I snarl. “What have you done to us?”
I expect to have to torture the information out of her, but she only laughs and pats me on the nose as if I’m a wayward yet beloved puppy.
“It’s quite simple, really.” She sashays over to Ashvelon’s nest, where several bottles are tucked among the grasses. While she’s speaking, she uncorks one and pours herself a drink. “I didn’t have the supplies or the power to do what you asked. Transforming small creatures like humans into giant hulking dragons would take an immense amount of energy, if it can even be done. I doubt even my rat-bastard of a father could have accomplished it. Killing something—now that’s easier. Although taking down all you male dragons would have ended me too, which was out of the question since I prefer to exist. I doubt the afterlife has such delectable wine.”
I growl, and Serylla advises, “I’d get to the point. He’s extra impatient today.”
“Says the most impatient creature I know,” I retort.
“You two are charming, really,” chuckles Thelise. “As I was saying, I couldn’t transform women into dragons, so I did the next best thing. Dragons into men. Dragon-shifters, to be precise. It’s based upon a handy bit of spellwork I tested once upon a time, transforming chickens into rats. This particular spell is a thing of beauty—my crowning achievement, really. I wrote it all down, thought of every detail. You should be thanking me.”
She hesitates a moment, as if she’s actually expecting thanks. When I snarl, she shrugs and continues. “Last night was your longest period in human form since everything was getting adjusted and taking effect. From now on, your time as humans will be shorter—eight hours a day or so. You won’t be able to control the change at first, it will just happen, so I’d take short flights, and don’t go too high. When you start to shift, you’ll feel the change coming on, so you should have just enough time to land, if you’re in dragon form, or strip off your clothes really quickly, if you’re in human form. Eventually you’ll learn to transform at will, though your daily hours as a human will still be limited.”
Thelise gulps more wine. “You’ll be able to fuck, too, anytime you like. You’re welcome. But as a species you’re still mostly dragon, so you’ll have a mating season as usual, when you’re fertile. From what Ashvelon tells me, when dragons mate, their genetic material combines in the female’s womb, and then the shell of the egg forms around that little blob. My spell keeps that process intact, but the eggs will be somewhat smaller, for the benefit of the girls who have to birth them.” She winks at Serylla, who says “fuck that” in a strangled, incredulous tone.
“The mating, incubation, and hatching schedule might be sped up a bit,” continues Thelise. “But when it’s all said and done, there will be a crop of little dragon shape-shifters hopping around. I’ve arranged it so they’ll be hatched as dragons, and they won’t be able to change forms for the first six months. Of course, all this is subject to the vagaries of the spell. I planned everything meticulously, as I said, but sometimes the magic does have a mind of its own.” She giggles again, as if it’s all the best joke in the world.
I know that her spell saved my life, and yet, for a moment, my anger overcomes my lingering gratitude. Her levity on the topic infuriates me.
“You will reverse this,” I demand. “Or you will die.”
Ashvelon growls low in his throat. “You will not kill her.”
“If she does not cooperate, I will.”
He paces forward, squaring his great shoulders, his wings lifting and arching in defiance. “No. I won’t allow it.”
I arch my wings and my neck as well. “I am your prince, Ashvelon. You will do as I say.”
“Obeying you got us into this mess. Shedding her blood will rectify nothing.”
“Boys, boys.” Thelise walks unsteadily between us, holding up one hand with the goblet and waving the other hand as if to pacify me. “There’s no need for this. The spell isn’t reversible—you can kidnap any other sorcerer you like and ask them. They’ll tell you it’s impossible. I couldn’t undo it if I wanted to. Let’s focus on the good news.” She pats my nose again, and I bristle. “You can still have the mating frenzy that you’re all looking forward to so desperately, and you’ll get to enjoy hatching season. The offspring that come out of the eggs might be a bit different than what you expected, but the whole point is to continue the dragon race, right? So as long as the traits are preserved in some form—”
I leap forward, swinging my head into Thelise and knocking her off her feet. Her body crashes into the wall of the cave much harder than I intended.
Serylla slides off my back, running to the enchantress’s crumpled form, right before a blast of bluish-white frost-fire explodes in my face.
Ashvelon roars with all the might in his body, a direct challenge I can’t ignore. We’re mostly immune to each other’s fire—it would take a lot for one of us to kill the other—but death isn’t the point of such challenges. Dominance is.
With a snarl, I attack.
16
