Four years ago, Morgan was found half-dead near the dragon village of Thorsbury Upon Wick.
Morgan cannot remember what happened to her, but the villagers suspect she might be a dragon from their long lost ancestral homeland.
Adopted by the villager...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
E R I K
The snow had started to melt, making the ground treacherous to walk on. We would have to cross the road and the field to get the Craving Stone, and I worried about my poor little mate's injury.
Morgan was proud. I doubted she would allow me to carry her across the snow to the Craving Stone. I dare not risk upsetting her. She could change her mind and refuse to go through the ceremony. This made my heart uneasy.
Instead, I offered her my arm. Morgan reluctantly took it, which I was secretly grateful for as my little mate liked to argue.
I wondered what the spirits of my ancestors thought about me taking a fox as a bride. I imagined the ghosts of my father and brothers watching over me, yelling to one another, 'he's gone mad'. But it was not my choice. The wisps had made the choice for me, and who was I to question the powers that be?
I walked slowly next to Morgan., ensuring my pace matched hers. She held tightly onto my arm, which made my heart swell with pride. She trusted me to care for her. I savoured the closeness of her petite body against mine. It elicited a primal protectiveness that I didn't know I was capable of.
Morgan tilted her head up to meet my eyes. The breath stilled in my lungs. Her red hair was so beautiful, blazing against the white snow. It terrified me that she would have died if I hadn't saved her. Even now, the recollection of her lying on the ground, unconscious and bleeding, bothered me.
"Ouch, Erik. What's with the death grip on my arm?" Morgan asked.
I glanced down at my hand and saw my knuckles turning white. I immediately loosened my hold and muttered an apology.
Morgan rolled her eyes at me and groaned, "I can't believe I let you sweet talk me into doing this."
"It was the right decision," I said reassuringly, "This will protect you from my brothers and sisters at war."
She snorted and replied, "Are they like your devil-worshipping buddies?"
"You know exactly who they are," I said, trying to keep the irritation from seeping into my voice.
I found it perplexing why she kept referring to me as a devil worshipper. She knew who I was. She was the one who sent me to this place. So why did she pretend that she did not know me? Was this the way of the Fox?
This contrary nature of hers was a problem that I needed to sort out once we were married. First, she must give up her trickster ways and learn to be more Dragon than Fox. Then, my wife would be honest and know to trust her husband.
Ahead of us loomed the Craving Stone.
Sir Glenn was waiting for us at the foot of the stone. I had instructed him
on how to perform the binding ritual. It was a simple ceremony where I would unite my dragon flame with her fox flame, creating one brilliant ball of light.
