Ellery was careful not to disturb the two small wizard familiars who’d taken to curling up next to him, their little dragon bodies warm and soothing. Ellery leaned his head forward and drank from the large metal bowl Madeline D’Vairedraconis created for him. If he felt a bit like a giant dog licking from it, Ellery reminded himself he had no choice.
The Grand Warlock emerged from the office building and as usual, he was carrying a large potion bottle. Nearly every morning there was a new variation they wanted him to drink, so they could pull him out of his beast.
“Hey Elf,” Dra’Kaedan said. “You ready?”
Ellery nodded and lowered his head, so the diminutive warlock could pour the concoction into his mouth. It burned his tongue and the taste was terrible, but he gobbled up every drop. A fire spread down his throat as Dra’Kaedan stepped back with a smile.
“You doing okay?”
While he wanted to assure Dra’Kaedan he was okay, whatever he’d drank was not settling well on his stomach. A churning feeling overcame him, and his dragon roared loudly inside his head. Then without any warning, Ellery threw up all over poor Dra’Kaedan.
The Grand Warlock let out a shocked yell, and his brows drew together. He waved a hand over his clothing, making the vomit disappear. “Guess that didn’t work out too well,” he groused. “The simulations are promising with this one. I’m gonna go talk to Vadimas. I’ll be right back.”
Ellery’s dragon was still having a fit, and he wondered if it meant this one was getting closer to restoring him. He settled down on his bed next to Greggory and Roger, who hadn’t budged an inch while he waited. Some minutes later Vadimas, Dra’Kaedan, and a nurse appeared next to him.
“If it’s okay with you, Elf, we’d like to administer this intravenously. It may sting, but Dra’Kaedan can counter that easily enough. How does that sound?” Vadimas asked.
Ellery didn’t care how much it hurt; he just wanted it to work. He bobbed his head and stuck out one of his legs, giving them easy access. A gold glow formed around it, and Ellery never felt the thick needle enter through his scales. There was a prickle of sensation as the potion entered him, but Dra’Kaedan’s magic prevented him from feeling any pain. Inside though, it created a war. His beast fought, and Ellery had to squelch the desire to rip the tube from his body. It filled him with the hope that they were finally on the right track.
“How you doing Elf? You’re growling a lot. Nod if I need to increase the healing spell,” Dra’Kaedan requested.
Ellery hadn’t realized he was making any sound, the battle was becoming so intense. He centered on the one thing he needed, and that was Chrysander. Pushing his mate into the forefront of his mind, he reminded both sides of himself that by being a dragon he was being denied the man he loved. There was no way to tell how long he struggled, but the needle was already pulled out of him by the time he registered the world around him again. Dra’Kaedan, Vadimas, and the nurse gave a wave, then headed to their building.
A rippling danced over his skin, and Ellery focused on that allowing his thoughts of Chrysander to continue to stabilize his soul. His beast danced away from his absolute control of Ellery’s body. Realizing that he might very well get to shift, Ellery left his baby dragon buddies to race over to the changing space at the back of the house. He closed his eyes once he arrived and remembered his training. All he had to do was remember how to be an elf, and he would change into that form. A great roar ripped from his throat, though it wasn’t the usual one of his dragon fighting—it was one of triumph. His bones were shortening, and his muscles bunched as his scales slid away. The world blackened and when Ellery awoke, he was lying in the fetal position on the desert sand.
Swallowing thickly, he lifted an arm. It was elven, but it was different than the skin he’d once known. Still pale, it was now dusted with the same gold flecks of his dragon. He lifted his head to pull himself up, and a flop of hair fell into his eyes. To Ellery’s amazement, it wasn’t only black anymore. There was a thick stripe of white. Not giving himself any time to consider these anomalies, he dashed into the changing room.
Some hopeful soul had put a tunic and pants in elven style in there. Since it was in the same colors as Ellery’s now two-toned tresses and adorned with gold beads, he assumed it was for him. He donned it and raced out into the backyard. There was not another person out there, and the man he wanted was in Las Vegas attending Council session.
“Zane,” he shouted.
The Ducblanc slammed out of the office building with his dark eyes wide. “Elf?” he asked. His voice was hesitant as if he was unsure if it was truly him.
“Do you not recognize me?” he asked with a grin.
Zane leaned heavily against the exterior wall as people spilled out around him. “No, not really.”
“Oh Elf, you’re just beautiful. If not for what’s left of the jade in your eyes I wouldn’t know it was you,” Tiri exclaimed as he zipped over to hug him tightly.
Ellery didn’t know what was different besides his skin and hair, but it was of zero importance. “Can someone please call Chrys?” Fear choked him because he could already feel his dragon rising back up to fight.
Zane stared at him as he yanked his phone out. Ellery closed his eyes for a second as he anticipated Chrysander’s return. They weren’t going to have long, but at least he could finally tell him he loved him and perhaps hold on to him for a few precious seconds.
* * *
Emperor Chrysander Draconis was listening to Aloisa the Dwyer drone on about her latest silly petition to try and undermine the druidic company Dérive. Though she led the race, she had no right to rip it from its rightful owner. He was about to say something to that effect when Damian burst through the door that connected his vestibule to the alcove behind it.
“Chrys, we have to go to D’Vaire.”
“Dame, Council is in session.”
“It’s Elf.”
Chrysander stood and out of the corner of his eye saw the Arch Lich and Lich Sentinel shimmer out of the room. It was illegal to teleport in this room so something monumental was happening at D’Vaire, and his heart skipped a beat. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption, but I’ve been urgently called to the Draconis Court of D’Vaire. Council session will resume tomorrow morning. Good day.”
Damian grabbed his arm in a viselike grip and hustled him into the alcove. Dra’Kaedan and Brogan were waiting for him. Without a word, he was teleported to the deck at D’Vaire. His heart leapt into his throat when he gazed out into the yard. Standing in the center of a large circle of D’Vaires in name and in heart was an elf, though he barely resembled the one Chrysander had last seen six months ago.
His hair was a mixture of black-and-white streaks and it hung in some spots in the back as far down to his shoulders. His clothes were traditional, but the skin peeking out was dusted with fine gold powder. Ellery lifted a hand to scoop his tresses away and Chrysander gasped. The bones of his face were more pronounced than he remembered, making his cheekbones and jaw perfect honed edges, and it turned a handsome elf into one so stunning, it nearly hurt to look at him. But it was the eyes that captivated. Once they’d been jade with the gold rings around his pupils that displayed his rank.
