Daring to raise my head, I seek out her eyes, and I find questioning rather than judgment. “And that’s all you ever wanted from me, wasn’t it? Submission. In a queen, you wanted an appropriate piece of decoration on your arm with all the humility and apathetic, devalued sense of humanity I see in the average female you whore around with.”
Oliver moves to her side, the one nearest the knife she holds, presumably to prevent her from attacking, though I would not defend myself from such an action. “Do I deny I first believed such a woman best suited me? No. Yet you opened my eyes, Cait. You left me wanting a true queen, a spirited counterpart, not a shell of a woman. And now… now you are Theo’s, rightfully so. Even my grandfather has not the power to hold the fire burning within a woman such as you, the North Star.”
“Yes. So they seem to say.…”
Holding a hand up, Oliver stops her, stepping to the door quickly, opening it a small crack then closing it and ushering us both to the bathroom without explanation until closing that door behind us, as well. “One of their forces penetrated the boundary of the balcony. Claaron caught him, but they are far too close if they are able to break through in such a way. Argue with me if you wish, but you will remain here,” he demands of her. “I am going to retrieve Theo’s sword. Corrin, if you make any physical contact with Lady Hayden, I will not await my brother’s reaction, nor will I defend you from any harm she may do with his knife.”
He disappears from the spacious en suite bathroom, and Cait surprises me with a question. “Have you spoken to your father? I can’t imagine what Z must have told him.”
I hear the sound of furniture moved, having a good idea that Oliver is blockading Cait’s bedroom from intrusion. “Yes. Dante allowed me to call. Indeed, Z informed him the dragons had revolted and ended me whilst he valiantly tried to save the king and protect the realm.… An entirely convoluted retelling of events, though Father has never cared for the elf and believed little of his grandiose claims. Unfortunately, my dear brother found some of my blood on the pavement in the parking lot and feared that perhaps Z had ordered the elves to kill me, blaming the Dracopraesi in an effort to earn approval for war.”
“This is all insane… and not where I thought I’d be just a few months ago.” Her words are a mere whisper, and I believe she speaks more to herself than to me.
“Before the loss of your uncle.”
Cait nods, Oliver’s return saving her from speaking of the pain. “I far prefer engaging in battle over waiting for the attack of lurking, wishful assassins.” His tone is low and growling, displeased despite volunteering for this duty, as did I.
“Then why are you here, Oliver? No one made you stay with me. I would have been fine with Jai. I would have preferred him. At least he knows where he stands,” Cait snaps.
Oliver bows his head. I’ve never known him to surrender his pride in such a manner before, giving such deference to anyone—not to me, not to Father, not even to Dante. “Theo has granted Corrin the rites of atonement, milady. Until he is placed with an overseer, I believe it is best I remain with him, and ensure he does not engage in further behaviors worsening his situation.”
“An overseer?” I do not know if she asks because she wishes to learn of the Dracopraesi ways as their North Star, or if she has some measure of concern for what will become of me, but I dare hope at least a small trace of the latter holds true.
“Either Agtos, or possibly the Goddess, may choose a dragon to bear the responsibility of overseeing Corrin’s atonement and destroying him should his intentions to perform such rites not be true,” explains my dragon, though I know I hold little claim to him.
“How does he do his atonement?”
I want to tell her my personal wishes in that realm but do not believe she would so willingly accept my request. “At times, those seeking the light of the Goddess upon their soul may choose; however, generally, the dragon determines the best means for accomplishing this based on the wrongs of his or her life.”
“And how is the dragon chosen?”
“Any dragon solely loyal to the Goddess at the time may be chosen. One must not hold loyalties to a ward. We cannot be responsible for atonement and for protection.”
“So you can’t be loyal to me and take care of Corrin.” Her voice is soft, as if she is not speaking with us, but merely thinking aloud.
“Lady Hayden,” Oliver addresses her quite gently. “I do not mean to further complicate matters, but in the interest of clarity, you should know that swearing loyalty to the North Star is unlike holding loyalties to a ward; it’s far stronger than a ward bond, more akin to the reverence Dracopraesi feel for the Goddess. A dragon in your service could, in theory, fulfill the duties of atonement overseer if you permitted it. However, if you wish me to remain with you, then I do not know what you ought to suggest Corrin perform as his rites, and after so long together, I would want him to have a choice in his method.”
I step toward her, not quite so near as to hold her in my arms, as if dancing, but closer than I imagine opportunity will allow me again beyond this moment. “I wish to remain with you as well, Cait. Permit me to pledge my fealty, to atone for my sins against women and against you by serving you, protecting you until my death, be it natural or in battle. Let me die with a measure of honor and nobility.”
“Well, if you’re ready to climb down off your fence, Oliver, I believe this may be a reasonable solution to my issues with you both.”
With her pronouncement of such a view, I feel a sense of relief she could be so accommodating to someone who has given her such a significant amount of grief over the course of only a few days.
“And what if Theo should take issue with your suggested solution, milady?” His question earns an entertainingly impressive glare.
“Then I suggest he discuss his issues with me privately, Oliver.”
Chapter 21
*Theo*
“I do believe I was growing rather used to you existing in my GoSky whenever we conversed,” I remark to Oliver who sits awkwardly across the desk from me, watching as I make precise folds, patiently seeing my paper become art. “When you were in my phone, you did not stare at me while I did this.”
“What are you doing, and why, pray tell, are you doing it?” he questions with a sigh.
“Origami, Oliver. I am doing origami. I’ve quite enjoyed the art of it for a few centuries now.”
“And have you always made what look like flowers?”
Stopping for a moment, I glare warningly at him. “Roses. And yes, I like them, though I do find I’m creating a fair number more now than in the past.”
“Blue roses. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such a thing occur naturally. Whatever would possess you to make blue roses?”
Shaking my head, I wish I could stuff him back in my GoSky. Ending a call is far easier than kicking him out of my office. “Cait’s eyes are naturally blue though, and I desire to make her a bouquet of roses to complement them.”
“I do not believe I have an appropriate response to that, Theo. So many changes within those I did not expect to see changed.” He huffs and crosses his arms, shifting in the chair, and I find myself amused by how out of place he clearly feels not behind the desk and in charge, unused to the position of underling among us. “Although, I admit given the various possibilities, the changes in Corrin are for the best.”
“Indeed. Cait’s comfort with a compromise regarding both you and your ward pleases me more than I thought it would.” As Cait so dislikes hearing, it is complicated, and I laugh quietly at the thought of our first meeting. I still find her unexpected and hope I always do. “She grows to trust you, brother, and this gives you a great opportunity in proving yourself. And there are many logical reasons for keeping Corrin close… with his head attached.”
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” he offers, a mild tone of irritation tainting his voice as he speaks of his ward.
“Certainly that old human adage has its pl
ace, but I see the boy as more annoyance than enemy at this point. There is little he can do. Akin to an itch you scratch, only finding it begins itching elsewhere, a nuisance.”
“Z is far from a simple nuisance, brother. We must remain vigilant on that front.” Oliver straightens his suit jacket, smoothing his tie as he sits taller in the chair.
“You are no longer in command.” I raise my eyes to his, locking him in a war of wills he cannot win. “Do not forget your place among the North Star’s Guard, Oliver. I am well aware the matters at hand and have discussed them at length with both Claaron, as my second-in-command, and Liam, as my tactical advisor. Earn your place in Cait’s eyes, and you shall rise in my esteem once again.”
Oliver laughs humorlessly. “There was a time, not long ago at all, when you would have told me something to the effect of how we are Dracopraesi and no one can make us do anything, and likely accused me of coddling my ward if I similarly allowed them to influence such decisions.”
“She is our North Star, more valuable to the Dracopraesi than any ward, yet she declares me her equal as my wife. I give her the same respect.” Setting aside a perfect rose, I take out a new sheet, beginning the next one. “And I love Cait.”
“North Star or not, Lady Hayden is still a female ward. Of course you do. You are not the first dragon to marry one, to better protect her and to keep her closer. Nor are you the first whose ward fell in love with him. Look at Claaron for Goddess sake.” His reference to our Graywyne brother comes in a clipped tone, and I find it doubtful he will easily overcome this difference of opinions regarding my command chain.
“Oliver, you know of my conversation with Agtos, and with his words of advice come the issue of Cait’s request. I did believe she deserved more, and that I deserved less. I feared trying, and giving in to what she wished of me.” Admitting this, I focus on the paper in my hands, refusing to look at my brother. “Yet Cait has been unexpected in many ways, and broken down walls I did not know I built around myself—walls so high I could not see beyond. She wanted hearts and flowers, love I did not believe I could give her, yet she holds my heart, and I make her beautiful flowers.… Oliver, I am in love with Cait. She is my North Star, leading me on a path toward a destiny I first feared, though this is new for her as well, and somehow, sharing that fear lessens it.”
*Cait*
A bottle of Moscato, music playing on the SylvrSky, and no dragons in sight… for now, I might have five minutes of normalcy until one of them pops in, mentioning how their patrol went. “Cheers, Cait,” I say to myself, raising my glass. “Welcome to Monday, and five days survived so far. Good luck getting through today without losing it.” Giving in to the urge, I dance around my kitchen, tipping the glass back and drinking an excessive amount.
“Do you find the taste crisp, a sharp definition to the flavor, and every note distinctive, Caitriona?” asks Dante, appearing around the corner, joining me. There’s a curious smile on his face, head tilted quizzically.
I close my eyes and take a small sip, focusing on its taste. “It’s light. The grapes have a… a slight effervescence. And there’s a peachiness to it.”
“A highlight,” he offers with a mild, instructive tone. “They often describe such thing as a ‘highlight’ in wine.”
I nod. “It’s has a fresh taste though, the peach highlight, like the peaches my uncle and I picked once when visiting provincial Georgia.” With another sip, or maybe more than a sip, I look at him. “I’ve never noticed the subtleties in any wine, just whether or not I like it—if it’s too dry, or too sweet.”
He moves further into the kitchen, standing beside the island, beside where I’ve stopped dancing to the music still playing, inches away from touching me. “Aspects of the transformation may appear in small ways at first. For one, your sense of taste will become more pronounced. Other senses will develop as well.”
“Dante, what am I transforming into?” I don’t expect a real answer, I suppose, but if I keep asking, I can hope for something a tiny bit satisfying.
“The North Star of the Dracopraesi’s Goddess Houses,” he replies, soft voice lilting.
Quite literally, I growl at him, not a vampire or dragon growl, but a distinct clarification that he has not made me happy. The demigod gives his typical thoughtful amused expression, and I want to slap it off his face. “And what does that mean?” I ask, the tone of my voice daring him to give me another sarcastic answer.
“Caitriona, the North Star has long been the legendary star of guidance for sailors, explorers, and the like, as a means to find their way in the night, and to determine the direction they must traverse in order to reach their destination. Overall, the world has changed, yet some things have not. There is a need for guidance in bringing a new era, and guidance to evolve that which has not changed as greatly as believed.”
Exhaling a deep breath while imagining what might happen if I slapped him, I shake my head. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous this sounds, Dante? Maybe I’ve always been different, but am I really this North Star the dragons have been waiting for?”
“Have you any idea how ridiculous it is you ask such a thing, Caitriona?” he retorts. “There is a reason you are unlike others, why you have lived the life you have, why you are the woman you are. This is who you are. You were born this way. Theo’s tears awoke it as only a dragon’s could when the time came, but if it were not in you, there would be nothing to awaken, no transformation to occur. Dragons are drawn to you, Caitriona. You command their loyalty like none other than my mother.…I am drawn to you, Caitriona, and though I refuse to lie, to pretend I do not love you, know that I am your friend. You need a guide through this, someone capable of better understanding what is happening, and I will be here regardless of our previous relationship’s failure. Not even I can alter what is not meant to be.”
“You said I would be more than you.”
He stares at me for a moment, silent, a flash of something crossing his features, and his eyes brighten to a brilliant, vivid blue. “Oh, Caitriona, you are far more. You are to be eternal, yes; but what you are is unlike anything the world has quite had the joy of experiencing before. Mother knew the dragons needed you to come. The world needed you to come. I needed you, in some way.”
I laugh at the serious tone, maybe because it’s too much right now. “You know, if I look past the specifics of this, it just feels like home again, the way it was when my uncle was still alive. We always had close friends we considered family around us, our home full of activity. And growing up, he never stopped telling me I was destined for great things.” Taking another sip of my wine, I stare into the glass. “Though now, I’m surrounded by dragons… and a deity… and somehow, it feels more natural than anything I’ve ever known.”
“This is the home where you belong, Caitriona. With Theo, with your dragons, and with me. We are your family and your future. We will not die. We will not leave you.” He gently places his arm around my shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “You are not alone in the transformation you face. We are here for you, as you are here for us in ways we do not yet see.”
“Am I interrupting?”
Dante moves away from me with graceful elegance, slipping his hands into his pockets. “No, of course not, Theo. We were having a chat. Forgive any impropriety of appearances.”
Theo laughs, shaking his head as he walks into the kitchen, one hand hidden behind his back. “Let us be serious, Dante. I do believe we are beyond that. I have no fear of your relationship with my wife.” He leans down, kissing me softly on the lips, no hint of an alpha male battle cry of territorial war before revealing a bouquet of carefully crafted, blue paper roses.
“Perhaps it is it I who am interrupting,” remarks Dante, heading toward Corrin’s room, and I say nothing about it, though I’ve noticed he’s begun spending time with his grandson after yesterday’s events.
Running my hand up his pathetic, worn, Pink Floyd shirt, I look at the flowers with a smile. “What is this
about?”
He takes my hand, placing it over his heart, and I take my eyes off the delicately folded origami, meeting his gaze. “I did not believe it possible I could give you the love you deserved, yet I promised you the impossible. I have already given you my heart, but I owe you the flowers, Cait. I am remedying that dilemma.”
“As much as I love the flowers, and I definitely do, I truly love knowing you tried for me.” Theo lays the bouquet on the island and wraps his arms around me, running his fingers through my hair when I lean into his chest. “But I think what you still owe me is more than a bunch of flowers.”
I hear the rumble of laughter against my ear. “Are you going to hold it over me for an eternity that I refused to dance with you at the gala?”
“Maybe.”
Without warning, Theo scoops me up his arms. “Other men can glide across a dance floor with you, Cait. Dante may waltz and even tango with you. Corrin might cha-cha until his heart is content. Yet there is one thing you have told me you wished for that neither can give.”
“Theo, what are you…”
“Dracosi Hezab Nacgqo, utaq,” he calls out in a deep, commanding voice as he carries me into the living room, and all my dragons assemble within seconds.
“Well, this certainly looks as though it could lead to something exciting,” comments Claaron, eyeing us in amusement, smirk firmly in place.
A snort of laughter escapes Theo as he carries me to the balcony doors. “Our North Star wishes to dance with me. We shall dance like dragons.” Striding with confidence toward the railing, and leaping barefoot onto it, he balances with no difficulty at all. “I will not let you fall,” my dragon tells me, lowering me to touch my feet to the metal with my back pressed against his body, he keeps his arms tight around me.