Chapter 2: Chapter 2

SILVER

I’m about to open my mouth and yell at Drax, but first, I decide to see what he is speaking about.

I turn to see a vial in the elderly man’s clasped hands. I reach in and pull out the glass to spot a drop of red left in the bottom.

“Dragon’s Bane?” I whisper, confused, until I look up and see Drax fully solidify from the mirage into his human form.

His brown leather pants, like mine, are adorned in chains, and he hooks in a few extra roses. I narrow my eyes… What on earth is he doing?

“Yep, poured into the water canister for you to drink while you served customers,” Drax explains casually, looking up after placing three roses through his chained belt.

A white shirt adorns him, and he pops a red rose into the shirt pocket. “Too many roses, little Silver? How do I look?”

“What are you doing here?” I take a step into the shop, but first I pause and look behind me and around the street, looking for any sign of Storm.

The coast is clear.

“The Feast of the Full Moon,” Drax explains while twirling another rose through his fingers. He passes me a slow smirk.

“I promise I haven’t been subtly threatened multiple times that I must check on your state of safety by one very cock hard and mean Dragon Lord.”

“Cock hard?” I ask, confused by the slang term. Drax raises a brow and slowly approaches me with an arrogant smirk.

He leans in, and his cheek slides past my own so his lips can privately deliver a message to my ear.

“Sexually…frustrated…,” Drax whispers like he is speaking to a child before he leans back, eager for my reaction.

I simply assess his red eyes and gray-black hair, wondering how many women put up with his annoying personality once they get past the good looks.

“Right,” I murmur and take a step farther away from him.

“Tell me, Drax, what did you do in the Horde before you were slaughtered by my mate?” I ask casually to catch him off guard, and he laughs out loud.

“Sweetheart,”—Drax puts a hand to his chest and twirls around in exasperation, and then he looks to the ceiling—“the memories you remind me of shatter my resolve to be sweet to you.”

He closes his eyes and dramatically huffs out a breath before he suddenly turns to me, opening his eyes in a narrow red gaze while looking me up and down. “Why do you ask?”

I almost take another step back.

Drax changes his light tone to a deadly growl with a menacing warning underneath, radiating from his irritated aura.

An extreme change of emotion; but I guess that is what Silver Breeds practice and pride themselves on.

“An ill-advised fledgling simply wishes to learn,” I retort, confused by his unbreakable and suddenly judgmental eyes.

“A warrior, obviously,” he whispers. “A Shadow Assassin, to be exact.”

“Storm told me he used to be one; it’s nothing impressive,” I rub it in, eager to annoy him because I am feeling defensive.

Not because of Drax, either, but the meaning behind his presence in the Patter Kingdom.

The Feast of the Full Moon… He wouldn’t have come here alone.

I watch as the moment that the thought of my raised suspicions loudly passes through me, Drax’s eyes cloud over.

His Heart Knowledge draws him a vision of my exact thought process, and he slowly smiles as his eyes clear up, and he focuses back on me.

“Oh, yes,” Drax whispers. “The Lost Horde has come to celebrate with the Dusk Dragons… Do you know why, little Silver?”

“To spy on me?” I ask as a joke, but I secretly hope that’s one of the reasons.

“Only one,” Drax winks and takes out a rose from his belt to offer it to me. I simply take it and put the stem of it back in the bucket it came from.

He looks annoyed I’ve refused his gift, but he quickly adds, “The Gypsies are back in the Lost Horde with some Shadow Assassins on guard to protect the land we now claim as our territory.”

“So what is the real reason all the Dragons of the Lost Horde are in Dusk Horde territory?” I ask, raising a brow.

“Alliances, clearly.” Drax opens his palms, looking exasperated by my ignorance.

“We desire to be allies. It’s logical. You are from the Dusk Horde, and by your bonding with Storm, we should embrace the solid bond between Dragon Hordes.”

“Unless you are just scared of the Requiem Horde because they have more Dragons than both of our Hordes combined?”

I raise a brow to question their vulnerability, and Drax scoffs and gathers the roses from his belt and his pocket.

He is about to burn them, but when I glare, he rolls his eyes and places them back in the bucket with the other roses.

“Darling, we’d slaughter all of them in their sweet slumbers ~if~ they dared to threaten our land by Water Fallen Lakeside or any member of our Horde.”

Drax is so confident, I almost believe they’d manage such a feat. “So, little Silver… What have you been up to these past three weeks?”

“Basking in my freedom from a pathetic mate.” I don’t expect my response to come out so aggressive, nor do I expect my hands to tremble as I hiss the words.

I try to control my temper and purse my lips, looking to the ground as I try to regain my composure.

When I glance up, I see Drax’s brows raised high and his teeth grinding together.

“Shouldn’t have said that, sweet darling,” Drax whispers very quietly to me as he shakes his head, while I simultaneously feel eyes burning holes through my back.

“Why?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. Now, taking a deep breath, I casually glance over my shoulder.

My eyes lock with the crowd of tall beings, whose hair colors range from silver to dark, all Dragons in human form, walking as one across the shops on the other end of the street across the road.

Some of them are speaking to locals, while some are passing gold to beggars.

One of them I almost find hard to recognize because it has been too long.

He is staring right through me, the burned-golden gaze unblinking, unshakable, and completely focused upon my lips, especially now that I face him.

I slowly inhale a breath and use my rush of emotions, mixed and heavy…and I change them into a new identity I’ve been working on for the past three weeks.

Fortitude.

Confidence.

And strength.

I do not let my eyes smile or my mouth curve up ~or~ down. I boldly meet Storm’s eyes, ~impassively~, and then I turn around and gaze back up at Drax.

“You think he was listening in to our conversation and heard me?” I ask casually. “So what?”

“I think he heard you, and I think you’re in big trouble.” Drax winks and pats my shoulder, giving it a final squeeze before he decides to leave my side and head back to the visiting Lost Horde.

I watch him go, but before he crosses the road, he turns back to me. “Come to the feast tonight in the castle.”

Drax puts up a finger, reminding himself to tell me this information, to emphasize that I should not disobey the order. “Bring your friends from the Dusk Horde! We have discussions to discuss!”

“Very smooth,” I sigh under my breath as Drax finally leaves, returning to his people.

And I stay where I am, gazing over the public, wondering how much longer Storm will continue to pierce my soul with his gaze.

I now know why my anxiety was so real before. I subconsciously could feel his presence, closer than before.

Three weeks have truly stretched my patience and my happiness to thin limits. It is easy putting on a smile, even though it isn’t real.

Each day is harder than the last when I know I have been rejected as a mate for the time being because I am too young.

But that is where I’ve learned new strength. I made the decision to leave when the wagon door was open, so I did.

I am not going to give in and try to reunite with Storm.

I am going to stay away, until the moment he decides I am worth fighting for.

I purse my lips as that thought makes my heart clench. I am not good enough and I am too kind and I am too young.

But…strength. I have to hold on to my Silver Breed of Strength.

I just have to master that feeling on my own.

I glance at the dead man who plotted to kill me, and I walk off feeling further hurt by the betrayal of someone I believed to be my friend.

I read his intentions the wrong way. He must have harbored a secret hate for Dragons that I never read from the elderly florist from the start.

Now, I walk away, and as I stroll past civilians going about their morning routines, I pass a few cobbled roads before I glance over my shoulder to see the Lost Horde no longer in view.

So now I turn and decide to fly back to the Dusk Horde.

My plan is a little evil, unkind, and verging on the feeling of hate…but it is all too clear in my mind. And I know I already want to follow through on my aggressive thoughts.

First, I will alert Dane, Aneurin, and Summer of the alliance the Lost Horde wishes to make with them.

I will attend the Feast of the Full Moon with them tonight. And then the rest is simple. I will ignore Storm like he is the most uninteresting and useless mate in the room.

The very limited contact we will have will lead to a moment to remember forever.

Because when I choose to lead Dane and Aneurin to Storm, Storm will not appreciate the way I already know I will introduce him.

With a humiliating and degrading title and description, fitting for his abandonment of me.

~Dane, Aneurin, Summer…this is Storm, the pathetic, scared, and unworthy Dragon Lord of the Butchered Horde. He lives without a spine, a heart, or the nerve to bond with his only mate.~

~He wishes to make an alliance with you. His assets are guaranteed abandonment, weak loyalty, feigned knowledge, and a gross sense of entitlement.~

~Cruelty is his middle name, and love is as meaningless to him as the shit that comes out of his ass. He is also my mate…not that I recognize him as such.~

There, straight from my heart and true.

It is fair to say I may have increased my core strength and my ability to fend off extreme sadness.

But I have replaced that sadness with another emotion.

I am not happy.

I am angry.

I am really, ~really~ angry, and every passing day in the twenty-two that have passed have only fortified such feelings…

And Storm will feel the complete wrath of them tonight.