Nothing sounds right about this. “But they have no vendettas against the humans, and they’re a weak foe to elves, nothing to write in their historical texts, regaling hard won battles.”
“Bait.” Liam states the single word with a stony expression. “They know Dracopraesi code will not allow it to continue. It’s bait to draw as many of us out as possible, force us to weigh the value of wards versus, essentially, genocide. We can easily overpower them in small numbers, ten to one or so, but there are only three hundred ninety-six of us and hundreds of thousands of them. I’m no math genius, but …” shrugging, he shakes his head.
“We should have expected Z would rally a grander army than one to endanger citizens of the capital, but we must trust our brothers to do what they must while we focus on the task at hand. He will not stand down until he takes Cait’s life,” Theo growls. “Or we take his.” A tense silence falls over the room until broken by Theo’s voice. “Return to your assigned posts. I have my own duties I must attend to.”
“Liam, go on down. I must speak with Theo for a moment.” He gives a narrow-eyed look of suspicion before ducking out, leaving Theo glaring after him. “Don’t go there. He respects your authority quite fine. He does not listen better to me.”
“I said nothing.”
“You didn’t need to. Your face said plenty.”
With an eye roll, he plops into the plush chair behind him, a weary sigh escaping, leaning his head back loose over the back, spinning around away from me. “Whatever you want to say, say it. Quit reading my every move, Claaron. I’ll put you on duty nearest Falcon every opportunity possible.”
“Cait would never let you do such a thing to me.” My remark earns exactly the reaction I expected, a lovely gesture of his hand over his head, one I’m usually giving him, not the other way around. “Is it insubordination if the Lord Regent doesn’t listen to the North Star?”
He spins back around to face me rather than giving the double-handed gesture I would have given him. “Is there a point to this?” A lethal growl, not a question, and I tread somewhat more carefully.
“Despite his attempt to disguise it, Liam revealed something interesting when Jennifer arrived yesterday.” He doesn’t respond. “Theo, the North Star’s effect has begun already. He feels the change, though I’m unsure he recognizes it.”
“Liam and Jennifer?” Shaking his head, Theo leans over the desk, dancing fingers across the Sky Book’s screen until a Mahjong board appears. Slow to match tiles, he plays at avoidance, not the game. “And you tell me this why? Do you believe these developing emotions will distract from his duties?”
I snatch away the Sky Book, tossing it on the chair behind me. “No. I tell you this because you need to remember the prophecy is more than words in a book older than dirt, you stupid dragon. What happens between you and Cait is not your pain to bear alone. It affects us all.”
Lunging out of the chair, body half over the desk, nose-to-nose with me, I expect a replay of Theo throwing me to the floor, growling out some threat regarding my blasé commentary on Cait.
He does growl. And glare.
“Yes. My actions have such an effect. She grows closer to Dante, yet Liam still feels for Jennifer.”
“Are you saying you’re willing to take that chance? You’d risk the future of all Dracopraesi on a possibility it doesn’t matter which of you she chooses now that the change has begun?” Forget treading carefully. I lean in, whispering into his ear. “I thought you loved Cait.” Moving away before he can react, I smirk. “Does that mean nothing? Agtos tells you of a few words scribbled in the Tomes, and what … you shrug this off as another experience in your existence?”
Jaw tensing, expression hardened, Theo does an excellent impression of a stone statue, but even stone wears with time, crumbles under enough pressure, and the façade sways under a greater need. “Not Cait,” he says in soft voice another would mistake for weakness.
I gesture for him to sit again and toss the Sky Book back on the desk as I take a seat as well. “Spit it out. Something’s on your mind.” Brotherhood or not, we are notoriously closed creatures, true friendships forged few and far between. This, I fear, will be our struggle with the change. Living among humans, enjoying their cultural variety and amenities to be had is simple and satisfies curiosity, desire for knowledge, and our unique personalities, but to love … that is a fire dragons fear, despite our desire for change in an unending existence.
Theo does relent. Finally.
“You are not wrong. I do love her, more than love. My heart feels a foreign thing, desiring her hold, despising its place within me, clawing in desperation to return. But where is the line, Claaron? To force my will upon her crosses a line. Who am I, what am I without honor? Certainly, I am not deserving of her love then.” He toys with the Sky Book again, pushing it away before I grab the distraction out of his hands. “So, you can see my dilemma, brother. Yes. I want her back, cannot imagine continuing existing this way. Without her love.”
Theo looks up from the desk, forgoing the avoidance of eye contact, strands of raven hair falling into his face, those Pendragon-green eyes blazing with an intensity to send mortal men fleeing in terror. “I will fight to win Cait back, but at what point am I fighting Cait and not for Cait?”
“Perhaps that’s the problem. She loved your fight, your swagger, if you will.” Theo snorts and shakes his head. “I believe you know what I mean. Cait’s not a weak woman, and you can meet her toe-to-toe when you’re not worrying over such things as this. If Dante wins her heart, it’s because you gave up. He doesn’t know what to think of half what comes out of Cait’s mouth, if that. Let’s be truthful. Goddess intervention or not, that sassy mouth of hers would have quite bewitched you. Cait is exactly the kind of woman you find intriguing but rarely crosses your path.”
“Not since Elizabeth.”
He smirks, and I cannot help but laugh. “Oh, yes, your glorious conquest of the fabled Virgin Queen. If only the people knew she engaged in the lusty, carnal pleasures of a dragon in her bedchamber.”
“And in every way, as interesting as she was, Elizabeth pales in comparison to Cait. What I have … what I had with Cait defies words in languages past or present. Love is what we call it because no letters complement one another to convey the breadth and depth of such a thing.”
“Then fight, and hold nothing back. If what you have defies words, then it stands to reason it defies rules as well. I don’t know where the line is any better than you, but just as surely as the sun will rise from the east each morning, Cait will rise and knock you on your ass if you push too far.” Theo doesn’t smirk or laugh, not stupid enough to believe she wouldn’t. “Until then, don’t stop. Don’t give her a moment’s doubt. Don’t leave her questioning for one single moment if it’s worth feeling that again. When you stop fighting, you give her reason to stop as well.”
Leaning back, staring at the ceiling, running his hands through that mess of hair falling to his shoulders, Theo exhales deeply, a white flag of surrender to his worries and fears. “I need to speak with Jai.” If I could see his eyes now, I know there would be hesitation and questions I cannot answer hiding within them.
“I’ll send Jai up to join you.” I make the statement gruffly, no doubt sounding bitter, and I don’t care. Jaiteru deserves the utmost respect as a Mage, as the only Mage among our kind, yet magick is no replacement for the honest advice of a friend when you’re making blatantly stupid decisions. “Regardless of what mystical wisdom the little freak imparts, don’t forget what I said. Nothing in your existence will ever be more worth such a fight than Cait.”
*Theo*
“Clarify, Jai. What did you mean?” Watching his wide eyes, enthralled by Evan’s desktop Zen garden as he creates patterns in the sand with the tiny wooden rake at a tedious pace, I do not believe asking Jai to clarify anything he has ever said will prove to be a simple task. “Jai?”
He peeks up at me like a child, grin spreading across h
is face, rake still in hand. “Cannot say.” He returns all focus to the sand, the design appearing to mimic that of the tattoos on his body. “Your destiny is your own.”
“And yet you’ve said to me that our North Star is my mate. You told me Cait belongs to me.” I take a deep breath, not wishing to become too aggressive. Falcon already pushed the Mage too far, Jai retaliating, proving he most definitely has a limit to his patience. “I know you understand the things you see, the visions in your head, but I do not. What is happening does not make sense to me. When you say I can’t have pieces of Cait, only nothing but all or nothing at all, there is no in-between—”
“Only mate destiny sees fit for you.” He remains intent on the Zen garden, never looking at me as he speaks.
I sit in the chair across the desk from him, letting my own gaze wander over the many family photos hanging on the walls of Evan’s office. Despite the number of times I’ve been in this room, I never before noticed how significant a presence Dante has remained in the lives of Cedric, Evan, and Runa, regardless of his differences with Corrin. “And what of Dante?”
“A heart, which never strays.” Jai turns the rake upside down and begins poking a series of holes, making dots in his intricate picture. “The unbreakable child. One love, never to die.”
The son of the Mother Goddess. Dante. The unbreakable child.
“He changed everything.” I receive a silent nod in response. “The one fortune of destiny the Mother herself did not foresee.” Every Dracopraesi knows the truth of his birth, how exceptional the breadth of his gifts and power were from the beginning. And how unexpected certain traits he developed were. “And yet she planned the greater outcome of Cait’s destiny.”
“Mother did not see. Cannot see. Never sees.”
I stare at Jai until he looks up at me, eyes an Atlantic storm brewing, much on his mind. More than I can imagine in my own existence, Jai sees, comprehends beyond the rest of us. “She didn’t see him coming, his birth.” Abruptly leaning forward, slamming my hands on the desk, I shudder at the realization. Jai does not flinch. “She set this in motion for Cait, for the coming of the North Star, for me, my involvement in all of this, but even the Goddess didn’t know …”
Slumping back into the chair, frustrated, hands on my face, running them through my hair, I expect some response from Jai. I receive only a curious rise of his brows expressing any acknowledgement of my behavior before he returns his attention to the sand. “Qua. Always three.” He holds up a fist, counting off, one finger at a time. “Qo. Dracos. Haz.”
Eyes closed, I see Cait’s hand in Dante’s too clearly. “Star, dragon, and god.” I let out an exasperated growl. “The Goddess did not know who that god would be.” I’m unsure Jai’s listening. He isn’t engaged in the conversation, what would be a conversation if I were not talking to myself. “She’s blind to her son’s destiny.”
“As are you.”
Ah, he speaks. He still doesn’t look up. “Me?”
“Dracosi.”
“Dragons? All of us?”
Jai slides the tray of sand across the desk, nodding for me to look.
I try to see, find something that makes sense, a pattern, a picture, and concentrate carefully on the sand, every line and dot he’s drawn into it until something emerges. “The night sky.” Pointing over a series of dots in the sand, I laugh, seeing what Jai sees. I hope. “Draco. Eighth largest constellation humans have named.”
He smiles, picking up a pinch of sand in his fingers and holding it out to me. “You see stars. I see all. Ynbyn.” Jai blows the sand toward my face. I grimace and say nothing. “Infinity. Universe. Creation. The Zega.”
“You see Dante’s destiny. His own mother cannot, yet you …” Standing and stepping toward the door, listening for signs of anyone near, I cross the room, furthest away from the door and anyone who may pass in the hall, lowering my voice. “That is why he isn’t to know we cannot see his destiny, his path, cannot offer guidance, because it is not true. You can.”
“See. Not guide.”
“Of course. Dante would never. Ah, fuck.” I growl the words through clenched teeth, finding Jai cocks his head to eye me quizzically. “Ni,” I state, quite emphatic.
“Ni?” Odd. Quirky. Eccentric. Jai is all these things. He is not ignorant.
Taking a seat again, I keep my voice low. “Perhaps it is not nothing.” Even to admit that feels as if I am admitting a wrongdoing of my friend, yet I wade into perilous waters. “Dante has never asked for guidance in our many years as friends, never questioned any path he takes, or concerned himself with where his destiny may lie. His path has always been his own, until Cait. That night, when he first met her, spent time with her, he asked me to reveal his involvement.”
Jai gives an impish grin. “Wrong dragon. Know nothing. Ni.”
“Ni. Yes. That’s what I know, Jai. Thank you.” I needed him to state the obvious. I didn’t know I know nothing. I knew nothing. I’m learning more in this conversation than I first thought I would. “No one in the High Realm could possibly compel Dante the way that Cait could, the way the North Star could. I know that. Now. He felt drawn to her and didn’t understand.”
“And Cait to him,” He states this with a dark undertone, expression serious, unfitting for Jai. “To you. To Dante.”
“A vicious circle, or rather a triangle in this case. The North Star, a Dracopraesi True Alpha, and Dante, the anomalous deity, an unexpected gift of the Zega.” How I propose to compete for Cait’s love against the god birthed by the very basis of creation, I’m not yet sure. “But the Zega created all deities, and the Goddess sees my own destiny entangled with Cait’s, sees fit for me to love her this way. I’m not ready to give up my claim on her as my wife, Jai.”
“Love Cait.” The mage’s words are soft, though insistent.
“I do, Jai.”
He shakes his head, standing from the chair and moving toward the door, turning back to me one last time. “Action not feeling. Love her.”
Jai slips out the door, but it does not close behind him, stopped by Oliver’s hand. “How did that go?” he asks, walking in, shutting the door with a swift, silent motion before taking a seat across from me. “Speaking with Jaiteru is often akin to a conversation with a mirror. You rarely walk away learning anything more than you already knew; you simply put together the pieces as you talked aloud in an empty room.”
“No, you’re not bothering me at all. Do please come in, Oliver. Have a seat.” I don’t refrain from the full sarcasm intended.
My brother crosses his legs and smoothes out his tie. “I gather from that tone you indeed learned something valuable, though not conducive to a pleasant mood.”
“Well, someone earns their gold star for the day.” Growling, I find a random piece of paper and begin folding it into a simple crane.
He stays silent for a moment. “I’m not sure what that means, but I believe it’s quite safe to say it was meant as a derogatory comment.”
“Make that two gold stars.” I throw the crane at him, and it lands on the lapel of his tailored navy pinstripe suit. Oliver averts his eyes from the harmless folded paper, grimacing as he flicks it away. “Jai sees his path.”
Eyes widening, he glances toward the door momentarily then signs “D-A-N-T-E” rather awkwardly. He’s never been incredibly good at sign language, but he gets by. I nod.
“Fuck.”
I laugh. Oliver swearing is a rarity. “Indeed.”
The silence falls heavy between us, sounds of the house filling the void, Runa rustling about preparing lunch, Claaron and Liam laughing with Cait and Jennifer in the family room, the steady tick-tock of the grandfather clock gracing the foyer.
“You stood outside her door the entire night. What did you hope to gain now that she knows the truth, Theo?” Oliver waits, patient, thoughtful, yet expectant of an answer.
“Improving the guardianship of my ward?”
“Bollocks,” he says, tone flat. “You kne
w I sat up reading in a chair beside her bed all night after yesterday’s events. Hovering outside her door did nothing to improve her protection.”
“I need to know if she loves him.” Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I watch my brother, expecting some chastising words of discouragement for such a thing. He says nothing. “I still sense her in many ways, not like before, but enough. When she sleeps and dreams, I thought perhaps her emotions may tell me something, give me a clue, a key to the path I must take.”
“And you learned nothing or else you wouldn’t be attempting to pry details from Jai.” He folds his hands in his lap, staring at them as if they hold some secret, sighing before speaking again. “Not to betray confidences, but you should know Caitie did not sleep last night. She spent the hours lying in bed, staring at the wall mostly. If she wished to discuss the matter, you know she would have with me; however, I believe this may be something she must work through a great deal on her own.”
“Perhaps. I do not wish her to feel she must. If she will not speak with you or Jai, or even Claaron …”
“For now, we are not the only ones with her. Runa would be more than willing to offer a sympathetic ear, and Jennifer joining us adds another woman’s perspective. Caitie has options beyond us.” Oliver’s generous offer of other friends for Cait disagrees with his stiff posture, a streak of jealousy shining through, favoring his place in her heart.
“Dante’s suffering over this matter may eclipse mine,” I comment, wanting to distract us both from thoughts of Cait’s worry. “His mother confuses him, offers no direction, no guidance, and he will not turn to us, knowing what the North Star means to all Dracopraesi. Even if we could help him, I am unsure any dragon would.”