Chapter 3: Charity

Chapter Three

Charity

I believe I’m dreaming, even if I have no idea how I know that fact. I’m equally unsure where I am, but it’s warm and lit by a small fire.

My jaw falls as I spin in a circle. It’s the cave Eldritch brought me to the night he snatched me off the street in Haven while I was walking home.

Only, he was with me that night. He did leave me alone for a few minutes when he went to bring back firewood, but I’m exceptionally confused.

It’s similar to that night, but not the same.

My nightgown swooshes around my thighs as I meander closer to the mouth of the cave.

Something is off.

This is not what I was wearing the first time this happened.

I’m so distracted by the difference in my wardrobe, I miss the fact I’m too close to the edge.

My entire body wobbles as my feet slip on the small pebbles.

The wyvern appears from nowhere. His greenish-gold maw opens, catching me as I flail.

It’s kind of impressive that my torso fits sideways in his mouth. He lifts me without chomping me in half, and tilts his head, so my feet reconnect with the cave floor.

It’s a strange blend of history and events that never happened. The first time, I nearly stumbled off before the fire was lit.

Eldritch’s black claws scratch over the floor as he climbs into the cave, shaking out his massive scaled body. He turns carefully to ensure he doesn’t bump me with his wings or impressive tail, and my heart races as his yellowy-green eyes focus on me.

He wraps a wing around my back, pulling me close to his nose.

My chest fills with an addictive warmth whenever we touch, and I stretch my arms out, hugging him.

“All right,” Malice’s cheery voice causes me to jump. “I had a visit from Athos. You can thank him for setting up this little endeavor.” He snaps, and his shadows swirl around his wrist. “Ignore the black box in the corner.” He tosses a finger toward the back of the cave. “We need that to fuel this escapade. I would suggest not pulling off the sheet.”

Oh god, am I in a nightmare?

Is something terrible about to happen?

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, taking a step back from Eldritch.

“Yes, well, I’m not even sure it’ll work, but I’m always available to help a friend.” Malice grins mischievously. “Fine, a friend of my mate. Make sure you rave to Aline if this works. Give me a bit of space, if you would.”

I stumble away as Malice siphons to stand in front of Eldritch. “Is this even real?”

“As real as any of the nightmares I create,” Malice says, shrugging. “I think you’ll be impressed—if it works.”

This is the weirdest dream ever.

Malice’s shadows expand as he rests his forehead against Eldritch’s nose.

My heart races as the black smoky swirls expand out around the wyvern’s entire body.

“We’re just going to cut you off from those memories for now.” Malice hums, but I can no longer make him out in the mess of shadows. “I’m not taking them forever, but let’s see if we can block them for the time being.”

Eldritch lets out a screech, and I take a step forward.

Commotion fills the air, coming from the area I can’t see into.

“Malice…” I croak, unsure how to even finish my sentence. “Please, don’t hurt him.”

“Have more faith in me, Charity.” Malice laughs. “Athos might be on to something.”

“I’m sorry.” The voice is deep and crisp, with a haughty British accent. Or that’s the closest I can come to comparing it to something in the human realm. “Do I know you?”

“Malice, resident nightmare, at your service.” The shadows begin to disappear, and I can make out Malice’s horns as he bends at the waist. “I’m not sure how long my magic will be able to hold this.” He steps to the side, waving a hand in my direction. “I believe you should focus on getting to know your mate.”

My jaw falls as I spot the man standing where Eldritch was in wyvern form only moments ago. He has messy, curly, whitish-blond hair that hangs around his ears and over his forehead. Large gray eyes framed by light lashes blink repeatedly as his head tilts.

A double set of horns protrude from his hairline, reminding of the much larger horns in the same location on the wyvern.

The man who must be Eldritch has sharp cheekbones and a fair amount of stubble lining his jaw. He’s also shirtless, with only a pair of low-slung leather pants that tie in the front.

He’s covered in lithe muscles with leather braces on each wrist. A set of greenish-black wings stretch lazily behind him before pulling close to his back.

“I didn’t see the fae thing coming,” Malice says conversationally. Outside of Eldritch’s facial features, nothing about him screams fae to me, but I can’t see his ears from here. “Perhaps that’s how you and Bane share a mate. One as a dragon mate, the other her fae mate.” He shrugs. “Truthfully, I have no idea. Can you tell me, I’ve always wondered, are wyvern dragons? Or are you considered a different species altogether?”

“A wyvern is what occurs when a bastard is born,” Eldritch says, shrugging a lithe shoulder. “An abomination that proves the dragon stepped outside of the sacred union of matehood. I’m literal proof of my father’s transgressions.”

My heart pounds.

Veryn’s father wasn’t my mate. Although, for a time, he had me convinced he was. He made it seem like my watered-down blood tempered the connection, and that’s why I couldn’t feel it.

I was so gullible, it’s hard to fathom.

“And what if a child was born outside of a matebond but seemed to be of full dragon lineage?” Malice asks.

Dammit.

I always forget he can read thoughts. Maybe it’s just fears that he can register, but either way, it’s intrusive.

Malice turns, giving me a chagrined smile and a shrug before focusing back on Eldritch.

“Not possible.” Eldritch shakes his head dramatically enough that his shaggy blond waves bounce.

“And if it was?” Malice probes.

“Perhaps if the dragon bred with a dragon’s heart that wasn’t their own mate.” Eldritch scratches his stubble. “But that would be something of an even worse transgression, making it well within the rightful mate’s purview to dispatch any abominations that may have sprung from such a union. I can’t imagine the true mate’s beast would be accepting of any children not bred from their loins.”

My chest rises and falls in rapid pants.

I’m pretty sure he just insinuated that, in order for Veryn to be a dragonling and not a wyvern, I have an actual dragon mate somewhere.

Bane .

He’s been ranting for months that I’m his mate.

But Eldritch also just said that my mate could kill my child. I can’t think of another explanation for him using the word “dispatch.”

“And that mate couldn’t be a wyvern?” Malice asks.

“No, we’re infertile. The universe does not see fit to offer us mates the same way it does our dragon ancestors.” Eldritch’s gaze moves from Malice to me. “All of this is well-known within dragon culture. Have you summoned me for a history lesson?”

Malice chuckles. “I haven’t summoned you at all, but I thank you for the invaluable information. Might I introduce you to my dear friend Charity?”

Eldritch’s bright gray eyes come to rest on me, and he licks his thick lips.

“Eldritch.” He bends low, and my entire body aches to rush him. “The pleasure is all mine.”

I can’t count the number of nights that I’ve sat by his side, talking and trying to coax the man free of the beast. Ever since the first night in this very cave, there’s been a yearning inside me to be close to him. I can’t think of any explanation, other than a matebond.

“Why don’t you scent her?” Malice suggests. “I’ll be…” He frowns at the cave entrance. “Somewhere down there, taking a walk.” He grins mischievously and snaps. “Accept the couch as my gift. Remember, leave the box in the back alone.” And with that, he turns to smoke and disappears.