Jim Gem's Arc

Chapter 15 of 23

After the tower, Jim told himself the hard part was done. He had held the dragon in the sky. He had won Lena. But he had never held the form alone, without her hands on him. Every flight, she waited below. Every scale that crept up his arm, her touch sent back down. He wanted to know he could steady himself without her. So one morning he climbed to the top of the waterfall alone and left her at the tavern. He stood at the edge and built the shape slow, the way he'd learned. Lynx, then wolf, then larger, layer on layer. Scales spread up his neck. His heart slammed. He waited for the panic that always brought Lena's hands. It came. He breathed through it. The purple dragon rose whole, alone, and held. Three heartbeats. Ten. He beat his wings once over the falls and did not fall. He had done it without her. That night he told Lena. She sat on the bed and grinned, all teeth. "Knew you'd land it," she said. "Told you." She pulled him down by the collar. He kissed her. Her hands found the scale on his chest, warm. But this time something else woke. Not the wolf. The dragon. His pulse climbed and the scales did not stop at his chest. They spread down his back, hard and hot. His breath turned to smoke. The old anchor, her touch, only fed it. The dragon wanted her. It wanted to hold, to keep, to never let go. "Jim." Lena went still under him. Her voice dropped. "Jim, your eyes." He pulled back fast and gripped the bed frame. Wood cracked in his fist. "Don't touch me," he said. "Not this time." It was the first time he'd ever told her that. She froze, hands light on his scaled back. He shut his eyes and did the thing he'd done alone on the falls. He built down instead of up. He stripped the layers off one by one. Dragon to something smaller. Then smaller. He counted his own heartbeats and pushed each one slower. Lena did not move. She let him do it himself. The scales sank. The smoke thinned. His hands were his own again, one still holding the broken frame. He opened his eyes. Purple, then plain. Human. Lena let out a shaky breath. "You did that," she said. "By yourself. On the falls and here." She almost reached for him, then didn't. "So you don't need me to hold you down anymore." Jim heard what she left unsaid. Her hands had been her whole use to him. Now he could steady himself without them. He looked at her, at the fear behind her grin, and knew the next thing he had to prove to her was harder than any dragon.