Chapter 20 - Camilla

“Ready to leave?” Stryker asks when he enters the bedroom.

His bedroom, with its olive-green walls and elegant trimmings of beige. We haven’t really spoken much about what the future holds for us now that he’s dropped the rather grumpy and tough outer shell and returned to his former self.

The man I met in the museum, who effortlessly charmed his way into my life. It’s nice to finally have him back, even if the doubts that show up in my mind keep me restless.

On the nights when I refuse to allow sleep to come, lest I dream about those dark figures, Stryker stays up with me and puts on my favorite show on the flatscreen he brought in the other day. Steadily, we’ve been learning more about each other, opening up about the things we would usually hide from the rest of the world. I, for one, have changed drastically.

I see it every time

Our bodies, on the other hand, have become well acquainted, the intimacy we share so strong, that I can’t help but wonder if that’s all this is.

Mere sexual attraction, an unwelcomed voice chimes in my head, but I brush it aside and choose not to pay it any attention.

Besides, it’s not like I’m complaining. Thanks to our passionate trysts, Stryker has managed to awaken something rabid inside me, purely feminine and so confident in my own skin. I’ve never felt as liberated as I do when I’m twisted in the sheets.

I turn to him with a smile and a brisk nod, the excitement bubbling inside me, compelling me to fling my arms around his neck and press a chaste kiss of gratitude on his lips.

I could barely contain my excitement when he offered to take me to my grandmother the other night, and I’ve obviously thanked him with bodily pleasures.

It’s been almost three weeks, and I can only imagine how worried she must be. Even though she’d chosen to live by herself in the retirement home, Abuela has always fussed over me. I always believed that the only reason she insisted that she didn’t live with me once I found a steady job was to cultivate my independence.

Confidence I’m beginning to understand ever since I arrived on Aurora Island. It might not look like the confidence I wear like a second skin when Stryker has me flustered with the gentle motions of his capable hands, but God knows I’ve never been more comfortable and accepting of myself.

“I’m ready to go,” I concede as I step back and gaze into the eyes that seem to reflect my soul. With a brisk nod, Stryker lifts my bag off the bed and keeps his arm protectively slinked over my shoulders.

“Wait!! I almost forgot!” I gasp with realization, scampering out from under his arm and grabbing the book off the sofa. “The Grimoire!” I head back to him and shove the book into my bag.

“Can’t forget the most important part,” he chuckles as he plants a kiss on my forehead.

I frowned because I still had no idea what he meant the other day when he burst in and announced that he knew why the other dragon wanted me to work for him.

Stryker still hasn’t told me what he suspects could be the reason for my dreams, and he hasn’t explained why he believes it’s linked to Rakon. It’s almost as if he’s hiding something from me, but he’s convinced that everything I need to figure out lies in the mortal world.

I’m trusting him on this one, but I don’t trust his actions when he leads me toward the balcony, my frown deepening warily.

“What are we doing?” I point at the door. ‘We’re supposed to go out that way.”

Stryker turns to me once we’re on the terrace, smirking mischievously as he presses the strap of the duffle bag in my hands.

“We’re not leaving the ordinary way, Cami,” he chuckles bemusedly. “There aren’t any planes on the island that would take us to the mortal world.”

“Oh…” I bat my eyes as realization dawns on me.

He sneakily grins and leans in. “Today, I will be your pilot, your hostess, and your plane.”

“I can get used to this…” I murmur as excitement builds up once again, ready to explode. Stryker must sense how I’m feeling, because he crushes his lips to mine, drinking in my enthusiasm as if it fuels him.

Leaving me breathless, he steps back, taking in the sight of my flushed cheeks with a cocksure smirk. He turns and climbs onto the balcony rails, then, without warning, he gracefully leaps off.

“Stryker?!” I exclaim in shock. I rush to the rails, only for a strong gust of wind to hit my face when the slitted, green eyes of his dragon meet mine with a twinkle of amusement in them.

Rolling my human eyes, I giggle when he extends a scaled arm over the rails and effortlessly scoops me up, then presses me against the rubbery armor of his chest.

Transfixed by his ethereal, magnificent beauty in his dragon form, I absentmindedly trace the metallic layers of the scales rippled across his chest. I’ve never felt a texture so smooth beneath my fingertips, yet so tough it almost feels like tempered glass. Unlike the first time when he flew me to the island, I’m calmer now, and able to appreciate how strikingly beautiful his dragon suit is. I’d been in a frenzy before, but now I notice how each scale shimmers with fine traces of gold.

“Beautiful…” I whisper when I meet his eyes again. He coos through the flat nose of the dragon, sharp eyes softening while maintaining their authoritative form. He turns midair, then powerfully flaps his wins to take us further into the sky above the Aurora Island.

We penetrate the protective shield that covers the hemisphere of the island, and now that I’m more attentive, I notice how the air is different around the dome. The opaque parts are like an invisible veil when he flies forward, then opens up to the view of the rest of the world. I didn’t even realize that inside the island, the other side of the world is as invisible to us as the island is to the mortals. That’s what keeps Aurora Island hidden from the outside, as Stryker explained before.

Aurora Island is a world of its own. So are its inhabitants, who remain out of the spotlight while they live their lives in a state of preservation thanks to their power of immortality. While Stryker soars above North America and circles California, I glance at him and once again become mesmerized by how extraordinary he is.

I always thought I wasn’t destined for any sort of greatness. But since meeting Stryker, I’ve realized being the dragon shifter’s fated mate might have been the reason why I didn’t fit in with the rest of the world. Now, the air in Fresno feels foreign, almost brutally uninviting, when we land in an empty park. Stryker sets me down gently before he shifts, then frowns at me in human form.

“What’s wrong, Cami?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I relent as a cold shiver passes through my spine. I glance across the street at the back of the retirement home and smile wistfully. “Abuela is gonna be so relieved to see me.”

***

“ Dios mio !” Abuela exclaims when I enter her room. “Camilla? Is that really you?”

The nurse in the retirement home told me I’d find her in her bedroom, where she’d been refusing to leave for the past three weeks. She’d been taking her meals there since she’d been so isolated that she didn’t want to be near the other residents of the home.

I’m overcome by a deep sense of remorse as I step inside, each step terse as I watch her reach down from her rocking chair in the corner with the fluffy slipper from her left foot. She grunts as she stands up, then aims the slipper at my face. She mutters a string of vapid Spanish phrases so quickly, that I can barely keep up or make sense of what she’s saying.

All I know is that she’s angry when she comes waddling toward me, flapping her slipper in the air with each word as she glares at me angrily.

When she’s close enough, I receive a few slaps on my shoulder as I hang my head and flinch at the impact. It isn’t painful, but each mild sting is a testament to Abuela’s anger.

“ Mi hija ! Where have you been, huh?!” she demands in an exasperated tone. “Do you know how worried I was?! Do you even understand?!”.

I finally dare to lift sullen, apologetic eyes at her, pouting my bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Abuela. I was—”

“Hah!” she cuts me off with a sardonic grunt, her eyes flicking past my shoulder as the anger contorting her face only deepens. “ Hombre dragón…”

My eyes widen in shock when behind me, Stryker clears his throat. I’m so skittish, that when he places his hands on my shoulders, I recoil from the sudden touch.

“So that’s where you were…” my grandmother observes as she inspects Stryker from head to toe through narrowed, skeptical eyes.

“What are you doing?” I whisper through grated teeth so Abuela doesn’t catch me talking to him.

“It’s okay, Camilla,” Stryker assures as he whispers in my ear without being discreet. “Abuela knows what I am. Dragon man,” he sticks out a hand toward my grandmother.

She inspects his hand ruefully, then mumbles under her breath as she shakes him. When the formality is over, she doesn’t let go of his hand, and I hear his sharp intake of breath as she tugs him forward.

“ Fuiste a ti a quien sentí todo el tiempo, ?no?” she asks in the deepest accent, questioning if he’s the one she felt before.

She’s probably referring to the time she called me and warned me to take heed to the warning of my dream the previous night.

Right now, she’s calmer than I would have expected. Over the phone back then, she made it sound like I was in grave danger.

Stryker straightens up, remaining equally calm as he replies, “ Culpable como acusada , Abuela.”

I gasp in surprise. Not because he told my grandmother that he’s “guilty as charged”, but because Stryker’s Spanish is flawless, his accent so distinct. This isn’t the time, but a flicker of awareness rushes through my spine.

“You speak Spanish?” I implore softly.

He nods with a proud smile spreading across his face and twinkling in his eyes. “Amongst other languages.”

“Of course,” I lament. For someone who’s lived as long as he has, he’d obviously be fluent in all the languages known to man. I turn to my grandmother, who wears a look of expectation on her raised brows.

“Well… You know what this one is,” she punctuates with a dismissive wave toward Stryker as she turns on her heel and saunters to her rocking chair. She lifts the walking stick from where it’s perched on the side—reminding me that she conveniently didn’t need it when she reprimanded me just now.

When she turns, she says, “Now it’s time to learn who you really are.”

“ Hombre dragón…respirador de fuego …” I insist, pointing at Stryker. “He—We already know that he’s the dragon man. The firebreather.”

Abuela clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes before pointing the knobbed top of her walking stick at me. “Not him, but you, Camilla.”

“Me?” I ask with an astonished frown, pointing at my chest this time. “What do you mean?”

“That’s why you came here, didn’t you?” she asks with a fleeting glance at Stryker. “To get answers, no?”

My jaw drops when I turn to Stryker, but all he offers is a nonchalant shrug while his lips toy with a smile he’s clearly trying to stifle.

He knows something that he’s not telling me…

“Y-yes,” I murmur when I turn back to Abuela. She has the knob of her wooden walking stick between both hands when she nods at Stryker.

“Watch the door,” she instructs him firmly, then taps the tip of her stick three times, drawing my attention to the floor.

My breath hitches in my throat when I see soft whiffs of golden smoke emerging from the base of the walking stick and coiling in warm, lively tresses toward the knob in Abuela’s hands.

When the mystical smoke slips through Abuela’s fingers, it sighs and disappears, leaving behind a golden staff in her hands.

“Abuela… What was that…?” I gasp in wonder.

Abuela stretches out her arm and beckons me over with a nod. “It’s called magick,” she smiles. “Come, mi hija . It is finally time.”

“Time for what…?’ I murmur, stupified by what I’ve just witnessed but too bewitched to protest as I saunter forward on feet that move of their own accord. Slipping my hand into Abuela’s delicate one, she turns to the window and lifts her staff to tap the glass with the knob that has now become reflective.

The gentle tap causes a ripple in the glass, but not from its shattering. Instead, a holographic image forms on the glass, turning into something I recognize.

Those green vines that slither like a serpent from my dreams appear right before my eyes in the window. The room around us fades as if it wasn’t made from bricks and mortar. My eyes remain fixed on the moving vines, and just like in my dreams, they slide away to reveal the gorgeous scenery of a moonlit sky.

The Aurora Island. It’s almost as if we’ve been transported thanks to Aubela’s walking stick—or staff, or whatever it is—that opened up a portal in the mortal world. Somehow, I’m not merely surprised by what’s happening when my grandmother releases my hand and saunters off toward the crystal body of water, where the waterfall flows down in whispers that suddenly make sense. Gentle whispers that beckon me forward in no particular language except its calm, cool tone.

“What is this place…?” I ask in awe.

“You already know, Camilla,” Abuela says softly when she turns with only a smile. Her lips are unmoving, but her voice is crystal clear in my mind.

Was that a mind link?

“You can hear me?” I frowned with the thought when my grandmother nodded briskly.

Abuela’s voice enters my mind again. “Yes, my child,” she says without moving her lips except to smile broadly as she nods and offers e her hand again. Suddenly, a white cloak appears to cover her from head to toe, flowing in soft whiffs of silk.

I gasp in awe. “You wore a black cloak before…” I murmur, this time using my voice.

“It was only your perception, mi hija ,” she responds with words that vibrate with immense power in the air, just as I slip my hand into hers again. “Your fears made you see the opposite of what truly is. You were afraid of your own power, Camilla. But it’s time to know the truth.”

“What is the truth?” I whisper, just as the night sky slips away to give way to the sun’s dominance, its warm rays shedding light on the truth my grandmother is about to tell me.

“You are a powerful witch, Camilla,” she explains. I should have been surprised, but hearing those words felt normal, as if I already knew what she was going to tell me. “You belong to a bloodline of witches and warlocks who practice white magick.”

I nod slowly, letting the information sink in as she continues.

“The magick skipped your mother when I married a human.” Her eyes softened with sadness at the mention of my grandfather, who I’d known briefly until he passed on when I was just a toddler. I barely remember him, but somehow, I have vivid memories of him—memories from Abuela’s eyes.

“... I thought it ended with me,” she continues. “But it came back through you. I noticed it when your parents died. You had an innate knowing that could only lead back to the Order of Elder Grove.”

Behind us, Stryker coughs to clear his throat. “Sounds like the elders of the Dragon Council.”

“Order of Elder Grove?” I ask Abuela.

“It’s the coven of witches that my—our ancestors plead allegiance to,” she sighs. “The knowledge will be passed down to you once you’ve completed your rite of passage.”

Abuela reaches beneath her cloak while she nods at Stryker, who comes forward and sinks to his knees in front of us. Frowning as I watch, I turn to my grandmother who produces a knife from under her cloak. I gasped, horrified by the recognition of the handle and blade that resembled the one I’d seen in my dreams.

The one that terrifies me, sending panic through me like a cold shiver as I take a step back. That’s when I see Stryker with his head hanging in front of Abuela.

“No!” I shake my head profusely in disbelief. “I won’t do it! I can’t!” I declare, tears pooling in my eyes. “I’m not gonna kill him! I refuse! I don’t care about the powers! I don’t want them!”

Shutting my eyes and pressing my fingers to my temples, I can only pray that I’m dreaming—caught in a nightmare that I can escape from like I have in the past. But when a warm hand of soft, delicate fingers touches my arm, Abuela’s presence only confirms that this is very real.

“Camilla, mi hija …” she cajoles softly. “You are not meant to kill hombre dragón ,” she sighs, prompting me to open fearful eyes and frown at her. She glances at Stryker, who lifts his head and smiles with reassuring warmth.

“... He is, by the instruction of the gods, your soulmate. He is the key to unlocking your powers and walking your destiny.”

There it is again—that one word I heard many times before. “He is?” I perk up, suddenly hopeful, until I glance at the knife Abuela wields in her hand. “B-but what is that for?”

“For this…” Abuela takes my hand and turns it over. Then, without warning, she slides the sharp blade across my palm. Too stunned by her actions, I watch in shock as blood seeps through the crack of the cut while Abuela turns and does the same to Stryker.

She doesn’t say another word as she steps back, and suddenly, I know what I need to do. Moving closer, I sink to my knees in front of Stryker and place my hand in his.

The fusion of our blood between our palms begins to pulse with an electric current that shoots from the base of my spine, stopping in intervals and coiling warmth in my core, my stomach, my ribcage, my heart, my throat, and finally, between my eyes. When my forehead pulses, the charged sensation grips me, and with my eyes wide open, visions come forward, and I see everything.

Everything I’m meant to see and understand flashes in my eyes. Universal truths, galactic knowledge, the reason for my existence. It all makes sense. Every piece of the puzzle comes together to make up the perfect picture. There isn’t one I can focus on, until the energetic current releases my eyes and drifts up into the crown of my head.

That’s when I see Stryker again, but I’m too overwhelmed by what just took over my being. My body tingles, but I suddenly feel exhausted, as if I’ve traveled for eons. My eyes become heavy as I fall forward, only for Stryker to catch me effortlessly. I stare into his eyes, a faint smile on my lips as I recognize my eternal mate before sighing and allowing a peaceful and contented wave to wash over me.