Chapter 11 A paranormal wedding
LYS
The Mayor helped me get dressed.
A simple white dress he had bought alongside a few other clothes on his way home.
Propped against the headboard, I glanced down at the expensive cotton dress, trimmed with lace. Mid-thigh length, it flared in a way that reminded me of my ballerina outfits.
Your body must fall, so your soul may rise.
I winced at the sudden contraction in my head. Trying to remember where I had heard that.
The Dragon walked out of the closet then, and when his head swiveled in the Mayor’s direction, I saw he had woven his waist-length hair in a single French braid.
He had on a black colored thobe, similar to the one the Mayor had thrown on.
The way the men looked at each other now made me blush. They were clearly in love, and it pricked my heart that I would never experience this.
They started at each other like the show earlier was not enough, as if they would love to fly at each other again and feast on their bodies.
Despite their agreeing to claim me, affirming that I belonged with them now, I couldn’t see how I would fit in.
I knew nothing, was clueless, and before today I used to think I was frigid. Because nothing turned me on, except that one time four years…
“Ready, fairy?” The Mayor turned to me, and I blinked twice in affirmation.
The Dragon walked out the bedroom door and returned almost immediately with a wheelchair identical to the one Dad got me at the hospital. Except this one had burgundy leather wrapped around the cushion instead of black.
My body leaned into the Mayor as he lifted me off the bed and strapped me into the chair.
With the headrest aiding my neck, my eyes traveled around the bedroom, taking in a proper 360 view of it. It felt too good to be independent again.
But just like that night I fell, there was a cold, uneasy fist in my chest again.
Rhea was trying to warn me about something. Sadly, just like that day, she was not being specific enough.
I whispered a command and the chair started to wheel towards the door on its own.
The men walked down the hallway beside me, flanking my right and left sides.
At the head of the staircase, they raised my chair effortlessly between them and walked all the way down. We rode away from their mansion in the cool interior of a luxurious Rolls-Royce.
Our entire ride was spent in silence as the driver on the other side of the demarcation glass wove through the night traffic of West Hollywood.
The Dragon stepped out of the car first, the cotton fabric of his thobe billowing around his ankles in the wind. He looked like an old-world Sultan.
Your body must fall, so your soul may rise.
The words were clearer in my head this time. And Rhea was pacing behind my ribs now.
But I still could not remember where I had heard those words from, or why goosebumps were now covering my skin.
The Dragon made my transfer to the wheelchair, and the Mayor pushed my seat despite my not needing his help.
The night was still as we approached the cemetery which doubled as a forest park. But when we began to move past the gravestones, the wind picked up.
Leaves floated up from the paved floors, the air whistled between tree branches, and a crow sitting atop a child’s gravestone cried non-stop.
And then I remembered.
A dream. It was a long dream I had in their bed this afternoon.
It felt like I was walking back into the darkness of that dream again. I could almost see the women kneeling, fading whenever I got to each of them.
There was also the eerie humming, causing me more goosebumps. The charring wood and that distinct smell.
Lilies.
So strong it felt like I was choking.
I forced my eyes to stay ahead. Ignoring Rhea as she trashed even more, stretching down my spine and threatening to break through my skull. She fought like I was dragging her to a slaughter.
And maybe I was. The dream was a warning. I should not be here.
These men would take more than my soul. But then I thought of the tournament, of Gianna, Mom and Dad.
The Hearthrown Alphas made a sudden halt before a large tree.
I stared up at the old wood standing on a steep floor. The roots were like veins, white veins, and they crawled down the dip which connected the flat ground to the spot this tree took root.
A shiver ran through me at the memories of the faceless shadows standing in my dream. It had been nighttime too in that dream. The figures had stood around a gilded altar with curling edges that were shaped like petals.
“His gods are different from our moon goddess.” The Mayor said quietly as the Dragon stared at the tree, and my heart stopped.
Were they the ones who appeared in my dream? Your body must fall, so your soul may rise.
Grandma told me once that Dragons were older than everything. They inhabited the earth just after the dinosaurs.
They were gods in every sense of the word, and the only power they bowed to was the senate of first forces. The Concords of firstborns who existed before magic and vampires and werewolves.
The keepers of tides, life, air, death and all the other elements that kept the world spinning.
I should go home. I should stop this before it is too late. But one look at the Dragon’s face and my courage faltered.
It was too late.
His hand disappeared into his pocket, and when it appeared again, silver flashed.
The Mayor took my hand, turned it palm-up, and laid it over his own. The Dragon placed his hand beneath ours and sliced down like a tiered wedding cake. I watched the blood drip, feeling zero pain.
His hand collected our blood like a cup, and by the time he pulled away from us, my palm had healed.
His eyes flashed in surprise.
“Her wolf is strong.” The Mayor smiled down at me.
My heart kicked when our eyes met, and events from four years ago returned to me.
That one time I had made an impulsive, stupid decision. Just like I was doing now.
Of course, he would know all about Rhea.
The Mayor must have seen the emotions in my eyes. Traveled back to that exact memory because those shutters went down in his eyes again, and he looked away.
I turned back to watch the Dragon walk towards the tree.
My belly was tangled up in knots of dread. The wind continued to howl, and the crow cried a warning.
Memories from my dream danced in my head. Obey, but never Surrender.