A Queen of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 4)

“Finley, listen, about the elixir—”

“Take off your shirt,” Finley barked, power riding the command.

My dragon roiled within me, not liking being told what to do. Still, I did as she said.

Mom gasped.

“What is—” Dee stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening. They were all looking at my back.

My mom moved quickly, slapping her hand on my shoulder, turning me a little so Dee could see better.

“Did it work?” Mom asked breathlessly. “Finley—”

“I don’t know,” Finley replied curtly. “I’m too afraid to ask him to shift.”

The words I might’ve said dried on my lips. I spun to face my mother.

Her eyes had filled with tears. “Go shift, son,” she said quietly. “Go see if your mate is a genius.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course she’s a genius,” Dee said, moving around to keep inspecting my back. “Do you feel any different, Nyfain?”

I shook my head, but then assessed again. Before I’d been too focused on Finley, maybe. Too worried about her mood and her possible disappointment.

Finley turned to survey me as I looked inward, immediately noticing a new lightness in the center of my being. An easiness that I didn’t quite remember. I didn’t feel that dark weight that I’d grown used to, tugging on me, dragging me down.

A frown crept onto my face. I looked into the gold-speckled, guarded eyes of my mate. Staring back was hope and fear. Anxiousness.

Couldn’t be.

“Shift,” my mother urged me.

“I’ll stay here.” Finley turned toward the back corner as Hannon jogged into the everlass house, out of breath. His red hair stood up all over his head, like he’d just rolled out of bed. His eyebrows lifted when he noticed my shirt was off, and I turned, showing him my back.

“He hasn’t shifted yet,” Finley told him, sitting on a chair and entwining her fingers as she settled in to wait.

Hannon gestured me out. “She never watches the patients, remember?”

For the other elixirs, she’d had me shift first thing in the morning, standing by while I did so. She’d observed the results closely, made notes, and then gotten to work. But this one was clearly different. This one was the culmination of months of work, and if it hadn’t done what she hoped, she was at a dead end.

“It won’t matter if it didn’t work, sweetheart,” I told her softly. “I’m fine the way I am. I’ve overcome my disappointment. Wings don’t define me. I don’t need them to lead our army or win challenges. Your health and wellbeing are much more important.”

She lifted her chin and turned her head away, like she didn’t want to hear it.

I didn’t understand her reaction. I’d never seen her like this, so full of nerves. So unwilling to face the results of an elixir she’d made.

“Come on,” Hannon said, motioning me out again.

At a loss, trusting him to know what was best for Finley, I did as he said. Once we were outside and out of earshot, Mom and Dee following behind, he explained.

“Hope and failure are funny things. In the past, she knew people would literally die if she failed. She knows you won’t, of course, but old habits die hard. Her dragon wants this very badly, too. I think Finley’s nervous about disappointing her. So there are a few things going on, and she’s withdrawing to try to protect herself. It happens sometimes.”

“You two are very close,” my mother commented. “You know her very well.”

“She’s my sister, and we’ve spent the past several years taking care of our siblings and our father in a very small house. We’ve learned how to be a good team, because we had to work together to stay alive. That included learning when to avoid each other and when to interfere. Annoying her when she’s in a dark mood is…not fun.”

I took several steps away from them, buying myself some room. Trying to pretend my stomach wasn’t flipping and sending nervous tingles through my body.

She couldn’t have managed it, my dragon said, hope eating through him. There’s no way.

I undressed and put my clothes in a pile, then walked farther away. Here it was. The moment of truth.

It doesn’t matter if she did or not, I thought, trying to maintain a level head. Either way, we’ll make a name for ourselves and this kingdom. Either way, we will own our place as king. We are still a dragon without wings. A mostly golden one. We can feel confident by her side.

Shut up and get out of the way. I’m shifting, he said with a burst of urgency.

I did as he asked, allowing him to surge up and take over. We grew into his large dragon body, and I felt them immediately. I felt them growing up from our back and then out to the sides, large and glittering and complete.

We had wings.

She’d done the impossible and healed us. She’d given us back our flight.