Wings of Fire (Protected by Dragons #2)

“This moment feels massive, yet, I don’t understand it,” Melody admits and I look over at her, seeing fear in her eyes for the first time. She has always come across so fearless, so sure of herself, but not right now. And that scares me, more than anything has scared me for a long time.

“Melody…Dagan and Elias know what I am but don’t remember. My relationship with all of them is advancing more than it should. Thorne is… well, I don’t know, but he confuses me. He didn’t kill our father,” I ramble out.

“I know, I see it,” she taps her head.

“Tell me what to do, how to make them remember,” I ask.

“I can’t. What has to happen, will happen, and they will remember because of it,” she says, a tear dropping from her right eye.

“Because of what?” I ask.

“Because of the emotion. The hate, fear, and the love. It’s the only way, and I’m so sorry I can’t stop it,” she says, stepping closer, and placing her hand on mine.

“I need you, and Thorne does. Don’t forget about us,” she asks.

“I wouldn’t forget, not unless you make me,” I joke, making her smile for a second but it soon fades.

“The curse will fall, and so will you, but remember Isola. Remember what you have to fight for,” she says, pulling me into a hug, and holding on tight. I return the hug, feeling strange about hugging my sister I’ve never known.

“I’m going to show you something you must tell Thorne when you have a moment alone with him. A real moment, not a dream, and you will know when,” she begs me so seriously.

“How can you show me?” I ask her.

“By using all my power, it just hurts me a little bit, and I will sleep for a few days. No biggie,” she says, shrugging a shoulder, and moving to stand right in front of me.

“No biggie? That sounds big, I don’t want you hurt. You’re my sister,” I say, grabbing her hands.

“And that’s exactly why I must show you this, you must make Thorne see the truth because I can only show you, and he won’t believe me. My mother showed me this, just before Tatarina killed her, and I know it’s the only way to save everyone,” she says.

“How can one vision save everyone? And I’m sorry about your mother,” I ask.

“Because it shows you who the real villain is, who really killed both our mothers,” she says and puts her hands on my head, and a blinding light bursts into my mind. When I can see again, it’s like I’m floating above the ground in an empty hut. The hut has stone floors, a fire in the fireplace, and a small table. The door opens and Tatarina walks in, a much younger version of her anyway. She is stunning, a perfect image of an ice dragon with her long white blonde hair and pale blue eyes. I’m sure her eyes aren’t that pale anymore, I’ve never seen them like this anyway. Two other people come into the room, a couple about her age, and the man with brown hair shuts the door.

“We have to kill the queen. She is evil, I’ve told you this, but I can’t do it. You can get close enough when you go to the castle tomorrow,” she says, shocking me. I didn’t expect her to say that. I knew she was evil, but to ask someone to kill my mother?

“We would never get close, but I will try, because of everything you have told me about her. She tortures dragons and humans, she kills children, and the king hides it because he loves her. She must die,” the man says and I shake my head, wanting to scream at him that none of this is true but no sound comes out my mouth.

“Thank you, my friend,” Tatarina says, and the door opens again. A little boy runs in, with blonde hair covered in dirt, blue eyes and he runs up to Tatarina.

“Mummy!” the boy shouts, and when I look closer I know it’s Thorne.

“Go with your parents, we had a good day together, but you can’t stay late,” Tatarina says, hugging Thorne, who nods and walks over to the couple who open the door. I keep my eyes on the man’s face, and I know this is the man that killed my mother. Thorne’s adoptive father killed my mother. He knew and lied to me, he made me feel sorry for him and his parents. Bastard. Thorne and his parents leave, shutting the door behind them. Tatarina grins, looking up at the ceiling near where I am floating as if she can see me. She raises her hands, and a dark spirit flies in from a hole in the ceiling. The dark spirit has black skin, black hair, and smoke drifting off its body. It looks just like Bee, a light spirit, only dark skinned instead. The dark spirit lands on Tatarina’s hand, and she grins at it.

“Our plan is starting. We will have the throne, and an heir because of my son, who can rule. I will kill the princess, and any other ice dragons that stand in our way. Then we can act out the second part of our plan,” she says, and the dark spirit nods. Just before I float away, I hear, “My son will be king, but I will rule. He just doesn’t know it yet.”



I slam awake, my heart pounding against my chest, and it takes me a moment to realise someone has their hands on my shoulders, rubbing their thumbs in a comforting motion. I look up to see Elias looking down at me with worry, his hair is messy and his t-shirt is all wrinkled. I take deep breaths, breathing in his smoky scent to calm myself down. I’m safe, I’m not there anymore, and the dark spirit is gone. I repeat the same line in my head over and over until I can breathe normally. That vision, or whatever it was, felt so real. It was overwhelming, terrifying and it makes so much sense. Tatarina planned this all, she planned for my mother to be killed, to become queen, to put Thorne on the throne and control him. What else has she got planned?

“You were screaming. I’m sorry, but I had to wake you up,” he explains to me, removing his hands and sitting on the edge of my bed, “bad dreams, princess?” he asks carefully.

“Something like that,” I say breathlessly, looking at my phone, and seeing its only three in the morning.

“Sorry, I woke you up,” I tell him and he shrugs.

“I went outside for a cigarette, and I was walking past,” he explains.

“Outside? I thought you smoked them in your room,” I chuckle.

“Nah, not since Jules walked in on me once. She hit me with her shoe and told be she wouldn't have me smoking in her house," he smirks. “I like the old lady, but she can half hit with that shoe,” he tells me, making me laugh.

“That’s better, you laughing is much better than seeing you frightened,” he says gently.

“It just takes a minute to realise some dreams aren’t real,” I mutter, and he tilts his head to the side a little. We don’t say anything, but I push my hair out my eyes when it falls and look down at my pyjamas. Thank god I’m wearing plain blue ones, and not the ones with cupcakes all over I almost put on.

“Yeah, I get that princess,” he squeezes my hand and stands up, dropping the notebook he was holding.

“What’s that?” I ask, remembering his notebook at Dragca Academy. I wonder if he draws the same type things. It would make sense for him to have the same hobbies, enjoy the same things he always had. He is the same dragon I met, just with a few little changes.

“Here,” he offers me the notebook. To my surprise, he walks around the bed, pulling off his leather jacket and boots. He slides into bed next to me, tucking himself in like he sleeps in my bed all the time or something. He rolls on his side, raising an eyebrow at me as he rests his head on his arm.

“Comfy?” I ask sarcastically, and he smirks.

“Very,” he replies, somehow making one word seem seductive and panty dropping. Damn him. I shake my head, looking back at the notebook to get my eyes off him. I open the first page to see a drawing of me, not what I was expecting at all. It’s a beautifully drawn image of me sitting on the school bus, and looking over my shoulder. It’s the first time he saw me here on Earth. He makes my eyes look bigger than they are, like I’m a doll or something. My hair is layered down my back in perfect curls, and my face looks perfect, not one imperfection. Which I know isn’t true, I know I have a slight dent on the right side of my nose where I broke it falling out a tree in Dragca when I was seven. I know I have freckles littered across my nose too, and they spread to my cheeks when it’s summer. I’m not perfect, not in any way.