Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

Magnus

Tired of the nonsense, I reached for the magic of my dragon. Honestly, I was shocked he wasn't already pushing his way free. He hadn't given me this much control since we'd arrived in the human realm.

It was a shockingly quiet moment, and as I sat here contemplating the unusual silence, I realized it was a damned nice break from the constant chatter in my head. Albeit a little inconvenient, given the circumstances.

However, like it or not, it was time to give my dragon free rein. We needed to set this woman straight and put an end to her ridiculous accusations. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the onslaught of draconic power.

Some moments later, I finally realized nothing was happening. I couldn't feel the magic growing in my chest or the dragon in my head. What the hell? This was no time for him to sleep on the job.

I pulled again, this time channeling the full force of the anger that I couldn't seem to keep locked away. My jaw clenched as I concentrated, expecting the familiar rush of power to surge through my veins. Again, nothing happened. No tingle of magic coursing beneath my skin. No burning sensation in my chest. No deep, rumbling voice in my head making constant demands.

Literally nothing.

The absence of my power left me feeling hollow and vulnerable, a sensation I hadn't experienced since my first transformation as a boy. Panic began to creep in at the edges of my consciousness as I realized just how defenseless I might be.

As if...

The renewed anger that rose hit me so sharp, I nearly snapped my neck with its swizzle as I glared at the tiny human still holding her weapon in my direction. "What did you do to me?"

She took a step back, a look of fear crossing her pretty face. "What—what are you talking about?" She tripped on a basket near where she stood and nearly crashed to the floor. With more agility than I expected, she twisted and regained her feet, all while never lowering that blasted gun from my direction.

Impressive.

"My dragon. I can't feel him. It's like he's—gone."

"Uhm," she hesitated, her eyes darting around the room. "What? Why? Where would he go? Do we need to look for him?"

Despite the rage twisting my insides, my lips twitched at the edges as if trying to smile. A ridiculous thought if ever there was one. I didn't laugh. There was nothing funny about any of this.

"My dragon is not some kind of a pet that you look for. Nor is he a separate being. He's woven into the very fabric of my being and is as much a part of me as anything else."

Her eyes widened at the implications of what I'd said, and I could already feel Isaac's wrath coming down on me for revealing this much.

"You are not trying to tell me that you are actually a dragon, right? Because that's impossible."

I smirked. "Nothing is impossible. Only humans think like that. Narrow minded weak little..."

"Well, this human has a healthy belief in some stuff that can't be proven by science, but I’m going to have to draw the line at this dragon thing. So try again. There must be a different explanation."

My nostrils flared as I glared at her. "We're getting off track. And I think your underselling whatever it is you believe in, or what you're capable of. Who are you?"

She shook her head slowly. "I'm nobody. Born and raised less than one hundred miles from here. Scottish through and through. I went to University in Edinburgh. Studied science and botany. Now I own my own small line of botanical products that I create right here in this cottage. I travel the country during the warmer months and hunker down here in the winter. That's me in a nutshell. Like I said, there's not much to tell. Oh, and my name is Rose."

I pulled out and examined each piece of information she'd just given me. Not much to tell. That had been an understatement, perhaps even a deliberate misdirection.

An advanced education, her own line of botanical products, and a nomadic lifestyle that allowed her to traverse the country with no interference - these were not the hallmarks of someone unremarkable. And there was something else about her that I couldn't pin down, an enigmatic quality that lingered just beneath the surface.

Her green eyes held secrets, I was certain, and her casual dismissal of her own accomplishments only piqued my curiosity further. Rose was a puzzle, and I found myself increasingly determined to solve it. Maybe the drag?—

"You did something to my dragon, a spell of some kind, and I need to know what it is, right now. I demand you reverse it."

"You're nuts." She pulled her lips between her teeth and her shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry. That was a poor choice of words."

I tried to comprehend what that meant when it finally dawned. She thought I was crazy. Which begged for another answer.

"If you think I'm mentally unstable and potentially dangerous"—I waved at the weapon she kept trained on me—"then why did you kidnap me and bring me here?"

She smirked. "In hindsight, it was clearly a rash and stupid decision. You are twice my size and even without this"—she waved her hand around the air—"dragon, far too dangerous."

"Those are all true statements, but none of them answer my question." It was obvious she didn't want to answer, but I had no intention of relenting until she did. I'd spent my whole life thus far under the cloud of secrets and I was officially sick of it.

She blew out a hard breath, and with zero patience I somehow managed to wait until she started speaking again.

"I was worried you might have had some sort of allergic reaction to the stew."

I narrowed my eyes, only half believing that. That might not be a total lie, but it was far from the cold truth I sought. "If that were the case, then wouldn't you have taken me to a healer instead of here?" I waved my hands around the cottage. "Wherever the hell here is."

"This is my home, and you don't have to be an asshole about it. I was worried, okay?" She scrunched her face in obvious frustration. "Like I said before, John wanted you taken to a hospital, but I saw that dragon hovering over you, and I just knew that was the last place you needed to go. I don't know how or why, but I did. I just knew."

"So you do believe in my kind then?"

"I don't know what to believe. But it's not like I'm keeping you tied in my basement or anything. If you want to leave, leave." She pointed to the door and then saucily stuck her hand to her hip.

I arched a brow at her. Why did I get the feeling that was exactly what she'd had in mind? Either way, this situation was beginning to unravel, and I didn't like it. I needed answers.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me the truth." I growled when she opened her mouth to probably lie again. "The whole truth. And you can stop pointing that toy at me now. I'm an asshole, but I'm not interested in hurting you."

While that was true now, I couldn't guarantee anything when my dragon magic returned. If it returned...

A shudder worked down my spine and my head began to ache with that thought. I refused to even consider such a possibility.

She cocked her head, examining me. I couldn't blame her. She might have created this crazy situation, but I wouldn't trust me either. All details I had no intention of sharing.

With another loud exhale of breath, she lowered the gun muzzle. "You should know this isn't a toy. It could put a nice size whole right through the middle of your chest."

I shrugged. "You're assuming your human weapon could penetrate my magic."

She glared at me, her green eyes flashing with frustration. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

I met her gaze steadily. "Magnus Aegrond,"

"Okay, Magnus ," she said, emphasizing my name with a hint of sarcasm. She crossed the room with purposeful strides, her boots barely making a sound on the wooden floor. Reaching a small closet tucked away in the corner, she carefully placed her gun inside. I watched as she spun the dial on a combination lock, her fingers moving too quickly for me to catch the sequence.

Turning back to face me, she leaned against the closet door, arms crossed over her chest. "That's a start," she said, her voice a touch less hostile but no less wary. "Now, how about you tell me where you're from. And don't even think about lying – I've got a pretty good bullshit detector."

"I don't think you're in the position of asking all the questions here."

"It's my house," she retorted.

"And I'm here against my will and still waiting for the real answer as to why."

"I told you. The stew. I make it special for the clients of St. Vincent's."

“Are you drugging those men?"

She clamped her hands on her hips and I couldn't help but follow the movement, noticing the pleasing curve of said hips that were now cocked to one side.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do I look like some sort of drug overlord?"

"You look guilty," I shot back, enjoying the look of frustration and indignation stamped across her face. To her credit, she managed to hold herself together with only a hint of a wince. But I’d lived with a deceitful uncle my entire life, and if there was one thing I’d learned over the years, it was how to read people.

And this one was holding back. Quite a bit if I had to guess.

"I'm truly not drugging anyone. The herbs I use can be obtained from a corner grocer. Although those wouldn't be as good of quality as my homegrown versions. But they're definitely not dangerous."

I glanced around, more curious than ever about these plants she was supposedly growing. But there wasn't a single one in sight. Lots of books and blankets and a small box in the corner that I'd recently learned was called a television. "You grow plants here?"

"I have a greenhouse in the back. Since I spend so much time away, I have automated systems in place to ensure they have the proper climate for optimal growth while I'm gone."

While I understood the basics of what she meant, some of her words sounded unfamiliar and beyond the fae realm in development. I had to hand it to the humans. They didn't have the power to access as much natural magic as in the fae realm, and yet, they'd managed to come up with systems that could be as powerful as some magic. Or at least yield some of the same results.

"So what plant is it exactly that you are putting in your stew that's not a drug?"

She rattled off some unpronounceable description of all the plants she utilized in her cooking, none of which meant anything to me.

"Show me," I demanded.

She started to turn as if prepared to lead me to her plant house, but came to a halt as quickly as she began. "I don't think this is a good idea. I should take you somewhere else…"

"You should have thought about that before you gave me drugs and then kidnapped me. Consider yourself lucky that you have not had to reap the consequences of your actions—yet."

She blew out an exasperated breath and brushed some of the fiery curls away from where they'd fallen in front of her face. I liked that look, but I also wanted to see more.

My stomach seized at that thought. Now was not the time to let a beautiful woman distract me. Without my dragon, I was vulnerable, and it would do no good to let her know just what that meant.

Just thinking about him, made my chest ache from the emptiness. For as long as I could remember that part of me was always there. I might refer to the dragon as its own entity, but it simply wasn’t. He was me and I was him.

"For the last time, I didn't drug?—"

"Enough!" I growled, interrupting her before she could once again proclaim her innocence. I may not know much about this woman, but she was far from innocent. "I'm tired of having this argument with you. My physiology is far different from a human’s so what may be an innocent plant for you, could be deadly to me. Take me to these plants and let me see for myself before I end up dead."

Her eyes widened a moment before they narrowed again as her face turned beet red with anger. If this wasn't such a serious situation I would have been amused. Maybe I was anyways, but it wasn't an emotion I could appreciate. Not when I didn't have my dragon.

"Fine," she spat. "But don't take my acquiescence to your rude demands as a sign that you're in charge or that I'm going to let you order me around. This is my house."

I bit my tongue against reminding her that I was only here because she forced me here. A fact I wasn't going to forget. Once I got a handle on my situation, I'd come up with what it would take to teach her a lesson or two about messing with a dragon.

"The plants," I said, choosing to ignore her until I got what I needed. We'd definitely address the rest later.

She turned and stomped towards the back of her house. While I took note of some of the details of her home. The soft furniture adorned with pillows, the bookshelves stuffed with more books everywhere I looked, my focus stayed primarily on her as I followed. Her skirt swished around her legs, making it difficult to look away. The ample curves of her hips were somewhat lost in the practical fabric of her clothing, but they couldn’t hide everything even if that was her intention.

Not even the cloak she still wore that protected her from the cold outside could hide that she had the perfect amount of curves for a man to hold firmly onto while?—

I jerked my attention away from her body and those insane thoughts. This woman had done something to my dragon. She was my enemy.

And I showed no mercy when it came to my enemies.

With all these thoughts rioting through my mind, I barely noticed we'd entered an entirely different section of the house until the warm, tropical air slapped me in the face and took my breath away. I breathed deep, trying to take it all in. The thick moisture in the air, the dense foliage covering every possible spot and the distinct scent of faeshade practically drowning me in its sweet, succulent draw.

Now I finally understood. Why I'd been drawn to this woman more than any other since arriving in this hell on earth.

I sucked in a sharp breath the moment I saw it. The purple flowers of the faeshade plant. The most seductive scent known to fae and the most dangerous to a dragon.

And I'd eaten a ton of it.

Dear Goddess, I was fucked.