Because he’d never transported anywhere except with his own magic, Rorie hadn’t expected that the warlocks’ would make him so dizzy. The moment the ground was under his feet again, he laid a hand over his stomach.
“Most unpleasant,” Rorie murmured.
“I guess someone should’ve told you to close your eyes. We assumed the Fae traveled similarly,” Renny offered in apology.
“Our spell has no side effects. I have moved a great distance with no issue.”
“That’s fascinating,” Dra’Kaedan said. “I wonder why ours does and yours doesn’t. What about if you move a group, do the others report any complaints?”
“The only way we move a group unattached through blood or soul is if we ride on someone else’s spell. It is a more uncommon way of traveling. We all cast our own,” Drekkoril replied.
“I guess that would leave us in the dust,” the man with the blue-black hair that hung straight to nearly his shoulders remarked.
“I sense something about you though; have you no magic? Also, I was most rude and missed your name. Can you supply it?”
“Sure, I’m Aleksander and I’m a shifter. A dragon, to be exact.”
Rorie squeezed his hands into fists and bounced in place. “You have adrekan? I mean, dragon?”
“I share my soul with him. I have one inside that I can shift into any time I want, which is why I’m called a shifter,” Aleksander answered.
Grabbing Drekkoril’s sleeve, Rorie clutched it and gave his bemollo a shove. “He can shift himself into a drekan!”
“We do not have shifters on our realm,” Drekkoril said after once again freeing himself of Rorie’s grasp and taking a giant step out of his reach. “The Fae have no such diversity as we are finding here.”
“I hope for the privilege of observing your drekan someday,” Rorie enthused.
“All the dragons in the household shift regularly, so you’ll get to, I promise,” Aleksander’s v’airsell nioll answered. “Renny has a magical dragon form too.”
Rorie gasped and clapped as he gazed at Renny. “I would love to see your drekan. I have bonded with aFaedrekan. When my magic is stronger, I can summon him for you.”
Renny’s smile was broad. “You have a Fae dragon? Shit, that’s incredible!”
“He is most beautiful, and I am most eager to be with him. Drekkoril has one as well, but he is not pleased to be bonded.”
“I would have preferred to make my own choices, Roriethiel.”
“You were jealous of my popularity.”
“I have never been jealous of you.”
“You suffer from a lack of honesty,” Rorie accused.
“You have no idea what I lack, and it is highly inappropriate for us to stand here and argue over it. These people have welcomed us into their home. We have yet to even thank them or offer our praise for it.”
“Grand Warlock, my apologies. I thank you for bringing us to your home with your magic. We are most honored to find refuge under your roof,” Rorie offered with a gracious bow. Rorie surveyed his surroundings; he was in a strange space that included what appeared to be a lounging area as well as accommodations for eating. There were no servants around, and Rorie wondered if they had any or if he would be expected somehow to feed himself. Not averse to the task, he did not understand how to perform such actions.
“I was happy to teleport you, but this isn’t my house. Our rulers are High King Aleksander and High King Rafe D’Vairedraconis,” Dra’Kaedan explained. “They let us live here and drive them crazy. We have our entire family to introduce you to, but we don’t want to overwhelm you. Would you prefer to get settled? We need to add a bed to Renny’s room, and Drekkoril, you can have your pick. Then we’ll get you with our incredible seamstress and tailor, Larissa, to help you decorate your space.”
“There is no need for Drekkoril to go to such trouble as I am unsure if we can take it with us to the Fae realm.”
“I can tell you it’s highly improbable that we can get you there,” Renny responded. “Perhaps when your magic returns, you’ll be able to teleport yourselves home.”
“You must learn,” Rorie insisted. “Distance between us would mean my death.”
“Neither one of you needs to make a permanent decision about where you’re going to wind up together,” Aleksander interjected softly.
“My bemollo and I rule the Fae. We cannot languish here.”
