Chapter 593: He hasn’t changed at all…
The wind sliced Strax’s face as his torn wings struggled to keep him aloft. It was no longer his dragon form that gave him strength; it was only his human body, sustained by the demonic energy that insisted on manifesting itself in the black, wounded wings pulsing on his back. Each beat was an effort, each breath sounded like embers burning inside his lungs.
He didn’t know how long he had been flying. Hours? Days? The endless line of the ocean made him lose track. He only knew he couldn’t stop. Not while they were somewhere. His wives. His partners. The ones who had been ripped from him by the fury of the storm.
Strax’s red eyes scanned the horizon insistently. Every wave seemed to hide something. Every reflection of light on the water was a possible sign. But nothing. Just the sea. The silence. The void.
Until, finally, something different appeared ahead: a dark green speck in the midst of the vast blue. An island. Small, irregular, surrounded by rocks and palm trees that rose like spears against the sky. There were no signs of smoke or habitation. Only untouched jungle and white beach.
Strax descended slowly, flapping his wings more carefully to conserve what little energy he had left. As he approached, the scent of damp earth and fresh vegetation filled his nostrils. It was almost comforting after the salty taste of the sea.
He landed firmly, his feet sinking lightly into the warm sand. He stood still for a few seconds, simply absorbing his surroundings, trying to capture any trace of an aura.
And then he felt it.
Several presences. Distinct, yet familiar. The blood in his veins stirred, recognizing the link, the energy he knew so well. Four auras, fragile, unbalanced, but still alive.
“Finally…” he murmured, his voice low, guttural.
The sound came first: hurried footsteps, stumbles, rapid breathing. Then, the vision. From the path that opened through the vegetation, four female figures emerged, running desperately, their hair disheveled, their clothes reduced to rags torn by the storm. Their skin was marred by scratches, but the gleam in their eyes was unmistakable.
Beatrice was the first to appear, her body bent forward, trying to maintain balance, her breasts nearly spilling out of the torn cloth covering her. Right behind her came Bellatrix, more clumsy, tripping over her own feet, but still maintaining an air of concentrated fury even in her disorderly run. Cristine came between them, laughing nervously as if the situation were too absurd to be real, and Yennifer, finally, tried to maintain some dignity, even though her dress was so ruined it barely covered her.
They ran in unison, but fate decided to play a trick.
The loose sand betrayed their hurried feet, and in a disastrous second, the four collided with each other, stumbling and falling together in a tangle of arms and legs, straight onto the sand, inches from Strax’s feet.
For an instant, the world stopped.
Strax looked down, the scene so unexpected that even his exhausted mind took a while to process. The four women, half-naked, covered in sand, trying to stand up at the same time and failing miserably, muttering to each other amid groans of pain and embarrassment.
And then, something exploded inside him.
A laugh.
Not an ordinary laugh, not a stifled sound. It was a deep, colossal laugh that erupted from his chest like thunder. The sound echoed across the beach, reverberating through the trees, causing birds to take flight in flocks, startled by the impact. The very earth seemed to vibrate beneath the intensity of his voice.
The four women stopped immediately, their eyes wide, staring at him as if it were the first time they’d seen him. Beatrice, sand still stuck to her face, blinked several times, her mouth agape. Bellatrix huffed in irritation, trying to shake off Cristine’s weight on her back. Cristine, in turn, laughed nervously again, as if Strax’s sound were contagious. Yennifer, her pride wounded, blushed to the roots of her hair and turned her face away, trying to cover her body with her arms.
“You…” Strax said between laughs, trying to catch his breath, but soon another laugh took over, even louder. “You fell… right in front of me… like prey stumbling before the hunter!”
Bellatrix finally stood up, brushing off the sand and pointing an accusing finger at him. “DON’T laugh at us, you insufferable demon!”
Which only made Strax laugh louder, his voice shaking the nearby treetops.
Cristine burst into laughter too, clutching her stomach, tears already streaming from the corners of her eyes. “My God, what a ridiculous scene… I can’t…”
Beatrice, still trying to catch her breath, stared at Strax, and despite the embarrassing situation, her eyes filled with relief. “Yes… it’s him.”
Yennifer finally looked up slowly, still flushed, but unable to hide the small smile that played on her lips. “Of course it would be like that. It could only be like that with you, Strax.”
He took a deep breath, finally controlling his laughter. His red eyes still shone brightly, and the smile that formed on his lips was a mixture of amusement and relief.
“I searched for you… all over this damn sea.” His voice lowered, now deep and charged with emotion. “And look how fate decides to play with me.”
Beatrice approached first, hesitant, but with tears of relief streaming down her dirty face. She touched his arm, confirming that he was real, that he was standing before her. Strax raised his hand and ran it through her hair, brushing away the stuck sand.
“You’re alive… all of you.” His smile softened. “Then it was worth it.”
Bellatrix crossed her arms, still trying to maintain her composure. “I could have died of embarrassment before I drowned, you know?”
Strax merely arched an eyebrow, barely containing a laugh. “That would be a curious death in itself.”
Cristine, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, nudged Yennifer lightly. “He hasn’t changed at all.”
Strax, who still let out occasional chuckles, raised an eyebrow at that. His laughter slowly died, giving way to a strange unease. For some reason, those words echoed deep in her mind, as if a weight had been hidden within them.
A warm breeze blew from the forest, stirring grains of sand around them. The air seemed thicker, as if the island itself had held its breath.
He frowned, his voice deep, slow, and suspicious.
“What do you mean… I haven’t changed at all?” His red eyes roamed over each of them. “We were together before the storm. That was what… about twelve hours ago? Maybe less.”
Silence.
The four women exchanged glances, as if they had mentally agreed on who would have the courage to speak. Beatrice took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling slowly, and took a step forward. Her eyes were watering, not from relief this time, but from the gravity of what she was about to say.
“Strax…” His voice was soft, but sharp as ice. “It hasn’t been hours.”
He arched an impatient eyebrow. “How could it not have been? I felt the storm, I was swept away, and when I woke up, I was at sea. I flew straight here.”
Beatrice swallowed. “We’ve been trapped here for six months.”
The words fell like a stone to Strax’s heart.
For a moment, he thought he hadn’t heard correctly. Six months? Ridiculous. Impossible. His mind raced in circles, trying to rationalize. Maybe it was a trick of the island. Maybe it was their own confusion. Maybe…
“What?” His voice was hoarse, almost a suppressed roar. His eyes glowed brightly, the demonic aura vibrating in waves around him, making the sand tremble. “This doesn’t make sense. To me… it was only hours. I didn’t waste any time.”