Altair missed those days. He missed everything about his home.
Spreading his wings wide, the hard membranes inflated with air, slowing his brilliant sapphire-blue scaled body. Snow crunched under the four talon-tipped claws as he settled down on the perimeter of the Outpost.
The rest of the witches landed around him. The full team had been dispatched to the Outpost, including the alternates. Their approach and landing had drawn the attention of the witches and dragons stationed at the Outpost already, all of whom were now watching, wondering what was going on.
Focusing, he felt his dragon form retreat, and the world around him grew larger as he shrank, his scales disappearing under pale human skin. The transformation complete, he tugged free a bag that was partially buried in the snow under his left foot. It had been clutched in the claw as he soared through the skies, and now it sat free, waiting for him.
He removed some clothes, beginning to get dressed. To a dragon, nudity was second nature, they were used to the sight. Altair didn’t think twice of it, simply pulling on his clothes at his own pace, his mind elsewhere. When he was finished, he slung the bag over his shoulder and stood up straight.
All around him, he saw witches looking in his direction, their faces wide with shock, or filled with pleasant smiles. It took him a long moment of uncertainty before he realized they must all have been watching him change.
Looking around, he tried to spy Christine, to see if she too had been watching, but she wasn’t there. An empty spot in the formation indicated where she had landed, but footsteps leading up to the Outpost itself showed she’d wasted no time in going inside, leaving him be. She hadn’t watched.
Frowning to himself, Altair marched past the assembled witches, keeping his eyes to himself. Troubled by his thoughts, he wanted to be alone, in private. Somewhere that he wouldn’t be under their scrutiny.
Why had his thoughts immediately gone to Christine, and hoping that she’d been there checking him out? He didn’t like that, didn’t like it one bit at all. They were no longer a thing.
We were never a thing to her, he reminded himself, thinking back to the letter. Christine had someone else in her life. A human male from somewhere called Elk Pines. She’d only been using Altair, probably to try and increase her bid for leadership of the response team.
Well doesn’t that just make a lot of sense. Take me under her wing, try to tame me, turn me into the good team player that will make her look good to Circe and the others. Altair snorted, finding it hard to believe his own naivety in the entire situation. How could he have been so blind?!
Walking past a line of curious faces, he didn’t say a word, pushing his way indoors. After the flight, he wanted to eat, to recharge his body. Despite the fact he’d been used for someone else’s purposes, Altair was still in the middle of a combat zone as far as anyone knew.
Lord Berith wouldn’t care about their petty internal squabbles. The demon lord would be coming after the dragons regardless, and Altair intended to be ready. He would just channel his anger into his attacks, making them hurt more.
His eyes naturally found Christine once he entered, but he immediately looked away. Ignoring her would be the easiest way not to get sucked back into any drama between the two of them. They were going to be in tight quarters at the Outpost, and he would need to likely interact with her at some point.
Pure professionalism. That’s all she’s going to get. The absolute bare minimum, and only when necessary. Otherwise, she can go do her own thing and leave me alone. Finishing writing that letter back to Julian for all I care.
Altair had seen the letter she’d written in return. It was in different handwriting, addressed to a Julian. There was no doubting it was from Christine. That was, perhaps, what hurt the most. Knowing that she was writing him back. That she wanted to talk with him and continue on that relationship even as she seduced Altair with her evil ways.
“Okay, everybody, listen up.”
Apprentice Gardener followed him inside, as did the rest of the team. She gave the Outpost regulars a rundown of why they had arrived, and how she expected them to act as backup and reinforcements. They still had the primary job of watching the portal, after all, and nobody wanted anything coming through while they were distracted with Lord Berith.
There was the expected hubbub of noise at the notice the demon lord was expected to arrive here, but it died down shortly after.
“We’ll stand watch in three-hour shifts,” Gardener announced to her team. “Four a watch. Altair, Jessie, Becca, Vanessa—you’re up first. The rest of you, settle in but stay ready. Who knows how long we’ll be waiting for?”
Altair rolled his neck, loosening the muscles there as best he could, trying to decide if first watch was where he preferred to be. Was Lord Berith going to arrive that soon? He certainly did not want to be asleep when the demon lord made his presence known.
Sleeping out here is probably a bad idea to begin with.
He bit his lip, having been so caught up in his relationship with Christine falling apart and being deployed that he hadn’t even thought about that. How was he going to sleep without worrying about hurting someone?
Cursing himself for this new predicament, Altair put his boots back on and headed back outside, ignoring the looks from some of the witches, and refusing to even
