Page 48 of Dryad’s Treasure

Henry’s quiet “me too” sounded far away, but still audible.

For better or worse, I’d hoped our waiting game would end today. I was beginning to wonder just how much stress a body could take. Had it not been for Gray…I’d be a branched-out mess. While I worried for his safety, selfishly I was beyond relieved he’d chosen to stay.

But while I had my will-o’-the-wisp, Keir had no one. A gryphon’s shoulders were broad, their backs strong, but even the mightiest among us fell when the weight of the world pressed in around them. A wyvern’s threat held that weight. The added worry regarding his family and friends was yet another burden attached to Keir’s soul.

I’d often envied my friend in the past. Those foolish days seemed long ago.

Nineteen

Grayson

Infants. Lazarus was letting infants decide the fate of the Magical Usage Council. It was nearly impossible for me to wrap my head around. Could the tiny, underdeveloped wyvern inside the eggs understand what had happened? What was the mental capability and reasoning abilities of an infantile wyvern?

I had no idea and my brain kept circling the issue in an endless, nonproductive loop of speculation. Concentrating was difficult, and yet continuing our search seemed the most productive use of our time. Sitting around and brooding would only lead to a coronary.

“You should reconsider leaving,” Martin said for the fifth time in the last forty minutes. “I mean it, Gray. And if you don’t leave and the eggs throw all our collective asses under the bus, then don’t be an idiot and stay when Lazarus gives you an out.”

I fisted my hands, my blunt nails digging into my palms. Partially in my wisp form, my blue flame licked up my arms. While I understood Martin’s logic, I was growing weary of him trying to get rid of me. Oh, I knew it wasn’t meant that way, but given how fixated he was on the idea, it was difficult to remind myself of that, to calm my immediate reaction and quiet my rising anger. I knew, without a doubt, that Martin didn’t really want me to leave him. And that was the key. Martin didn’t want me to abandon him. What he did want was for me to be safe.

“You need to stop saying that,” I said, attempting to maintain my calm. Martin and I were both having trouble focusing, and so I completely quelled my wisp form.

“No. There’s no reason for you to throw your life away for⁠—”

“For what? You?” I finally snapped, turning on my heel and staring up into Martin’s face, daring him to contradict me. “That’s what you mean. You don’t think you’re worth dying for.”

Martin’s mouth dropped open. “Of course not. I’m definitely not worth⁠—”

“And what about me? If the roles were reversed, would you leave me?” I knew I was pushing. This thing between us was new and fragile. Life-and-death decisions shouldn’t be dangling between us and yet that’s where we found ourselves. Sometimes, you simply couldn’t fight fate. You just had to roll with her shitty decisions and try not to fall out of the boat.

My words stopped Martin cold. His mouth clicked closed and his eyes became distant. I could see the words sitting on the tip of his tongue. I could feel the weight of his emotions within that little piece of his magic I now held. Perhaps that’s why I was so certain about this thing between us. There was no ambiguity, no questioning if Martin’s feelings were real or not.

Magic didn’t lie. Period.

It could be twisted and corrupted, but in its purest form, Magic was the most truthful substance in the world. Because of that, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Martin would indeed sacrifice himself for me. Hadn’t he already proven that when he’d agreed to be my anchor? Maybe I hadn’t realized the danger in the beginning, but I was fully aware now and so was Martin. When I balked, Martin pushed forward. My dryad was 100 percent invested. Martin was all in. His continued nagging about me leaving made it seem he didn’t think I felt the same.

With a heavy sigh, Martin’s shoulders rounded with defeat. “This is ridiculous. We shouldn’t be competing for who’s willing to give up the most for the other, let alone our lives.”

“Agreed, but that’s where we are.” I spread my arms. A random hallway wasn’t the best place to have this conversation, but sometimes one didn’t get to choose the venue where life-changing events occurred.

Martin blew out a frustrated breath, raking his slender fingers through his thick, brown hair. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” Martin flinched. “I know it’s fast and I don’t want to scare you, but it’s the truth.”

Closing the distance, I grabbed Martin’s hands, holding them within my own. Martin’s fingers were so much larger than mine. They were strong and sturdy, just like the oak he was made of. “I’m not scared.” When Martin gave me a dubious look, I grinned and answered, “Not about us. Lazarus and his wyvern friends are a different matter.”

“You think the others are his buddies?”

“No idea. All I’m saying is that this”—I pointed a finger between the two of us—“is the least scary part of this whole mess.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “I can feel you, in here, just like you can feel me inside of you. We shared a piece of our individual magic with each other. I had no idea what that would truly mean when we did it. Now that I do, I don’t regret a thing and I know you don’t either. Do you know how I know?”

Martin’s palm cupped my hand, landing over my heart. “Because of the magic. Because I feel the exact same thing from you.”

I smiled triumphantly. “And there you have it.” Growing more serious and a bit more scolding, I moved our hands, this time my finger pushing against Martin’s chest. “So, stop questioning me. Stop trying to get me to leave. I’m not going.” I swallowed hard, wondering if I could walk away even if I truly wanted to. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” I cocked my head to the side as I stared up at this magnificent dryad. “Who would have thought? A dryad and a will-o’-the-wisp.”

Martin’s chuckle was low and calming. “Certainly not me, that’s for certain.”

I huffed. “No. You were an absolute shit when we first met.”

Gathering me into his arms, Martin pressed his lips to the crown of my head, gently rocking us back and forth. “I suppose you’d like an apology.”

Pressing my cheek and ear against Martin’s chest, my eyes slipped closed, the steady pace of his heart soothing. “Never. Your concerns were valid.”