Somewhere Over The Southern United States

Jovari ignored the strain on his wings, pushing himself past his limits. He flanked King Talon on the right. They'd set a relentless pace. No, Talon had set a relentless pace.

The initial leg of their journey had been the hardest. Finding ways to communicate with humans, learn the geography of a new world, navigate it. Most people didn't use paper maps anymore, apparently—which was preposterous—because they relied on the tiny hand-held devices called phones for internet and GPS. Things that were absolutely foreign to him. He'd only gotten a taste of this world last time he'd been here. That hadn't prepared him for this.

Talon was adapting surprisingly well, even if he couldn't reach Claire's mind. There was a barrier of some sort. Spiderwebs, he'd called it. Like her mind was locked up tight with a sticky substance he couldn't cut through. Whatever Kane had given her—had done to her—had closed her off from them.

Jovari's blood boiled every time he considered it. Every time he thought of what Kane had done to his queen. His perfect, selfless queen. If he allowed himself to dwell on it, he'd do something reckless. It was already taking a great deal of strength to keep Talon from being reckless.

"Let's land in those hills," he decided. "We can afford a few hours of rest, my king." Talon's answer was an annoyed growl. The king would starve himself, fly until his body stopped working, literally kill himself to get to her, if Jovari didn't step in, which he'd done repeatedly over the past week.

The worst had been crossing the ocean. It had taken two days, riding the wind currents without rest. They'd both collapsed onto a deserted stretch of beach after reaching land, stolen a few hours of sleep, only to take to the skies again, flying north-west.

He descended toward the hills in the distance. Roads stretched and curved across the landscape, with tiny vehicles traversing their lengths, headlights casting white pools of light across the otherwise dark landscape. They found an area that looked mostly uninhabited before dropping low enough to transform. Dawn was approaching. They'd have to be more careful now that they'd arrived in the United States of America.

Claire's home country. They were close. So close.

He spotted a nearby house, its lights shining like a beacon through the dark trees. He and Talon crept to it, quietly ascending the back porch stairs. "This one doesn't have cameras," he noted, relieved. They'd learned that the hard way early on.

Cameras. Little devices that recorded pictures. Those pictures then showed up on a thing called a screen. People could even view the recorded pictures on those hand held phones they carried in their pockets. The cameras alerted homeowners about intruders, which, both he and Talon were.

As they peered through the kitchen window, they caught sight of a television. His shoulders relaxed. He heard Talon's relieved exhale beside him. They shared a look, before focusing their gaze inside the house.

Humans loved watching news broadcasts, especially in the morning. This discovery had gone a long way in acclimating them to this world. First, by orienting them as to their whereabouts, and next, by helping them understand where Claire had ended up. That she'd been a popular topic for news stations everywhere had worked in their favor.

"...our sources are still working to uncover the latest surrounding the girl with the glowing tattoos," came the muted voice of a newscaster. "Marshal Whitley attempted to make contact earlier this week, however, her family was not interested in offering a statement."

A man holding a coffee cup padded into view in the kitchen, lifting a remote to turn up the volume. The dial on his kitchen clock showed it was 5:30am. He was half dressed.

Jovari ignored him, instead focusing on the television.

An image of Claire flashed across the screen, followed by footage of her home, a camera crew being escorted off the property by a local sheriff. A low growl left King Talon's throat. "I'll shred them to pieces," he said, his body nearly vibrating with tension. "How dare they make a spectacle of her?!"

Except, that's all the public had done since they'd arrived. Talon was close to snapping. Jovari took a sideways step, offering the king comfort. "Can't shred them if you're not there with her."

"I'll be there soon enough," Talon rasped.

"Then we'd better get some rest so we can resume our journey, my king." Jovari put a hand on Talon's shoulder, squeezing. The king hesitated, then nodded.

They crept away from the back porch and back into the trees, looking for a place to catch a few hours of rest. The sun was already peeping up over the horizon when they finally sank onto the bed of pine needles littering the ground. The woods were wild, with vines of lush growth overtaking most trees—a mix of pines, oak, and some other variants unfamiliar to him. The canopy overhead was a good shield, even if the bugs were near unbearable.

Birds were already chirping. The drone of cicadas created a perfect background of white noise. Soon, the heat would be near unbearable, the humidity, too. They'd take to the skies then, if only to cool off.

"What if she can't remember me?" Talon broke the silence, gazing emptily into the woods. A question he'd asked too many times. They'd discussed it at length the first time the news had broken, when sources had claimed Claire couldn't remember anything about her ordeal. Couldn't remember how she'd gotten from Indiana to France with a body covered in luminescent tattoos.

Jovari looked at his king, his heart aching for him. "You're her mate," he said. "She will know you in her heart, even if she doesn't know you in her mind."

"I cannot bear it. If she looks at me and does not know me. What if...?" Talon winced.

"Spit it out."

"What if she sees my scars and...and recoils from me? Fears me?"

"You forget that she has never recoiled from you. Not even the first day she faced you."

"But that was different," Talon argued, nearly petulant. "She knew how I felt about her then, that I thought her guilty of a great crime. She hated me before ever seeing me. That hate allowed her to look past...this." He waved a hand over himself.

"Talon," Jovari chided. "You know her better than any of us. You know her mind and her heart. What does your intuition say?"

Talon's throat bobbed. His head rested against the tree behind him and he closed his eyes. At last, he said, "She is too pure, too good, too kind to run from me no matter what I look like."

"Exactly. Stop letting your fear manipulate you. Get some rest. Your exhaustion is clouding your judgment."

A loud exhale and then, "You're right. But you first. I'll take the first watch."

They fell silent, then. He propped his back against a tree and closed his eyes, falling asleep immediately.

Hours later, they continued their journey northwest. It was difficult, keeping out of sight, flying low enough to go unnoticed by airplanes but not too low to be spotted in the sky by humans. They relied on the pull Talon felt, the mate connection guiding them to Claire. Every so often, they tried to call out to her, mind to mind, but their nearing proximity did nothing for the barriers caging her mind, caging whatever magic allowed them to reach her.

Hours blurred together. They spoke little. Both too exhausted to converse, too tense and worried to voice their concerns.

It was dark when at last, the familiar sight of Claire's farmhouse came into view. The lights were on, glowing like a beacon, beckoning them. They landed in a nearby corn field, out of sight. Talon shifted then, falling to his hands and knees, gasping as he tried to take in air. Jovari could barely keep his feet. He was so exhausted, his vision darkened at the edges; he had to blink to see clearly. The only reason he didn't collapse beside Talon, was because it was his duty—his honor—to watch his king's back.

A sense of relief settled over his shoulder. The sight before him almost didn't feel real. They'd made it, even if they were worse for wear.

Talon collected himself, then climbed to his feet. He took a few gasping breaths, then took off at a quick pace, a determined set to his shoulders. His face said everything—exactly what he intended.

A rush of panic seized Jovari. Mustering what little energy he had left, he staggered forward, grabbing Talon by the arm. Stopping him. "You cannot," he warned, hoping Talon didn't attack him for it. "If you go in there now, this will end badly."

"I don't care," Talon growled, shooting him a poisonous glare. But he didn't pull his arm free. "My mate is in there. You would dare keep me from her? I didn't come all this way—"

"Think, Talon. She has forgotten who she is. She's probably scared, confused. You yourself are a frightening sight, especially right now, with your wild eyes and scarred face. You cannot simply storm into her home. Her parents will call the authorities. They'll think you're just another person chasing her story. She might even call the authorities. You are not a king here—do not forget that."

Talon's shoulders slumped. His gaze remained fixed on the farmhouse, his chest rising and falling in heavy bursts. They studied the property from shadows of the cornfield. "I...I just...I need to see her. To know she's safe."

Jovari exhaled. "Her bedroom window is that one." He pointed. "If you need to get sight of her, then fine. But don't you dare risk exposing yourself. Not until we have a plan of approach," he said. Talon scoffed. "I am serious. Give me your word that you won't do something reckless, or I'll do what I must to keep you from blowing this whole operation."

Talon growled. When it was evident that Jovari wouldn't back down, he snarled and said, "Fine. I won't expose myself."

Jovari nodded and released him. He kept close as Talon strode forward. They crept through the yard, locating a portion of the porch that looked sturdy. Together, they climbed onto the awning before finding Claire's window.

The sharp intake of Talon's breath told him enough. His king had caught sight of his queen. Despite his desperation, he held back, allowing Talon to look his fill. A shudder wracked the king's body, as if seeing his mate for the first time in weeks had unlocked something deep inside of him.

"Well?" he asked.

"She's with someone."

"What do you mean?" His panic flared again. He didn't wait for Talon to answer. Instead, he scooted closer until the two of them could share the space beneath Claire's window. He peeked over the sill, blinking against the bright light of her room. The first thing he saw was his queen. Something unspooled in his chest, something that had been wrapped tight. She was alive and well. Unharmed. Whole. Even if her mind wasn't.

Then his eyes fell on the woman beside her. He blinked, taking in her loud pink hair and dainty features. Pink hair?! How was that even possible?

"Is she a threat?" he found himself asking.

"It doesn't look that way," Talon said. "Actually, I remember her from Claire's memories. Only, her hair was different. Blonde like Claire's, instead of pink. They're childhood friends, I believe."

Jovari watched the scene before him. Both women were on the floor, applying a colored polish to their toenails. The pink haired woman said something and Claire's whole face lit up before she giggled. Then they both burst into fits of laughter.

"She seems...happy," Talon mused, his voice laced with relief.

"Indeed, she does." And damn, that did something to him. Gratitude bubbled up in his chest, radiating outward. He'd seen the way his queen had looked on the news. He'd seen the hopeless desperation on her face, the confusion, the upset.

She looked like a different person compared to then, all because of this strange, pink-haired woman—

"We need to find a way to speak with her," Talon was saying.

"Her friend?"

"No, you dunce. Claire. Gods."

"Right." He cleared his throat and focused his attention back on his queen. "We need to get her alone, somewhere she won't be inclined to contact authorities when she first sees us. Then we can explain who we are, and who she is."

"Do you think she'll believe us?"

"I think if we give her the whole story, she won't have any choice."

"But..."

Jovari pulled his gaze away to look at Talon. "But what?"

"It's not enough, telling her. I need her to remember." Talon's throat bobbed. Jovari reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "I can't bear it, if she can't remember the way she feels about me. I need...I need her."

"We'll make her remember, Talon. You'll make her remember. We'll figure out a way. I promise."

Except, he had no business making such a promise because there was no promise of certainty. No guarantee that she'd be free of whatever poison Kane had inflicted. So he said the words because he needed to hear them just as much as Talon. Because they both needed hope. Both needed to do whatever necessary to get her memories back. The alternative was too horrible to consider.

💕❤️💕Don't forget to heart this chapter!❤️💕❤️

Dear Reader,

Poor Talon. That must be the hardest part of all of this. Spending days and days flying to find his queen, his mate, only to be kept from her. But, can you imagine what might have happened if he'd stormed in? 

Don't worry. They will meet face to face...eventually. Do you think she'll remember him when she sees him? 

Next week's chapter is from Reyr's POV. I know...how dare I pull us away from Earth just as things are getting good!

See you next time.

--Mel

PS. If you're looking to get physical copies of the Dragonwall books, the first one went on sale for preorder on my website! It releases October 1st 2024, and the others will follow 2-3 months after so that you can eventually own the whole set! Don't forget to subscribe to my website newsletter where I'm revealing the covers, surprises, giveaways, and more!