“Yes, Dean. I do. It’s how she operates. You saw her letters. She wants me to have an attitude adjustment, so the punishments will keep getting more severe until I stop ...” Melody halted herself just in time, but already the deeper wound was burning with renewed heat. “Oh goddess, Provost, please do it now, I’ve already said too much, it’s starting!”
Dean’s lion roared in his head, his beast desperate to come out and remove whatever the threat was. At the moment, it was the provost and whatever spell she was about to cast. He desperately reigned his lion in, encouraging it to protect her by providing what she needed and not by attacking a necessary action.
Suddenly, Mrs Hardinger was in front of him. “Dean, how’s your lion coping?” she asked solicitously.
“He’s close to ripping out the provost’s throat,” he confessed, and there were gasps from around the room.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less of him, son. Are you talking to him?”
“Yes, Ma’am. He’s still listening, but I’m worried that he’ll lose it once it happens. I’d recommend you getting out of reach in case I shift.”
Mrs Hardinger nodded, taking several steps back. “Dean and his lion, Melody needs you to stay strong and focussed. She doesn’t need you shifting and getting out of control. That’s going to cost her more in the long term, punishment for you both because she couldn’t control you. You can’t draw on her for strength right now either, so you’re going to have to do this on your own. If anything, she’s going to need your strength over the next three days. Can you be that for her? Can you be her provider and carer when she’s at her weakest?”
The counsellor wasn’t saying anything that he didn’t know already, but his lion took notice. Hearing it from a second source seemed to prove the validity of Dean’s arguments, and the beast gradually calmed down. He nodded his thanks to her, and she nodded back before resuming her place at the edge of the room with the other teachers.
“Very well,” said the provost, looking at them all, “if everyone is ready?”
Dean nodded, noting the ozone scent of magic around him. It seemed that the teachers were holding their power ready in case either Dean or Asher attacked.
The provost stood and released the spell, and instantly Dean was flooded with agony as it ricocheted through Melody. “Oh fuuuuuuuuck!” He roared, but she was silent, already unconscious on the floor in front of him. He roared again as the geas hit, the wound like a sharp tipped set of claws running down his back, only it was her back he was feeling, and it was only an echo of what she was actually experiencing.
Nick and Justin had him in a firm grip, while on the other side of Melody, Oz and Ryan were supporting a sagging Asher. It gave him a grim sense of satisfaction to see the arrogant asshole pale and suffering at the loss of his bond. Dean knew how it felt, it wasn’t that long ago that it was him on his knees, roaring at his loss. Asher was silent, his wolf in shock.
Slowly, Dean adjusted to the pain. It tormented him to no end that even unconscious, her body was in agony. He forced himself to relax, but it wasn’t until his canines had retreated that the dragons let him go.
Nick dropped to his knees in front of her. She had collapsed in a parody of the foetal position so he carefully lifted her until she was sitting up, calling on Justin to support her so that she didn’t fall backwards. Dean shoved his way in and did it instead before the dragon shifter could. He carefully placed an arm across her shoulders, knowing exactly where she hurt and how much pressure he could apply.
Pulling the cork out with his teeth, Nick tipped the small bottle up against her lips, allowing it to drain into her mouth entirely, before he closed it and rubbed her throat while her head was tilted back. Melody swallowed, and then again and a third time before Nick judged it was safe to let her head down again. Gingerly, they returned her to the floor.
“Nick, under the powers that I hold over this academy, I grant you the authority to create a portal for a single use from here to her cottage,” the provost said in ringing tones, and the dragon looked up at her. “Nobody needs to see her like this, Nick. There’s nothing the healers can do, either. The only thing that might save her is in those two bottles. Georgia is too impatient to temper the punishment enough for it to not risk killing her. You know when to give them. I can have more made if you think it’s necessary.”
“Please, if you would, Provost, I would be forever in your debt. I’m worried two may not be enough. Not if what she thinks is true and this is worse,” said Nick.
“I can already tell you that it is,” said Dean. “It’s not one lash on her, but four or five. There’s so much pain, I can’t make it out clearly, but the wounds are deep. We may need a blood restorative as well as whatever that bottle held.”
“I will organise several of each to be delivered to you,” promised the provost. She turned to the staff surrounding the walls. “Ladies and gentlemen, the same rules apply as last time. You may only discuss this with me, and only within this room.” They all nodded.
The two dragons stood, conferring, and then Dean felt their magic emerging, and smelled the stinging scent of ozone which hit him even harder. The two men had joined hands, and in a ring between them grew a black nothingness. It expanded until it almost touched them, then they crouched down, brushing their hands on one side along the stone while raising the others in the air as high as they could.
They
