by Riley Storm
Kyla snorted loudly. “Oh, is that it? That’s a bit arrogant of you, don’t you think?”
“Huh?” he looked up, not following.
“You assume that, just because you think you only mate once, that you can’t be interested in anyone else ever again. Okay, fine, I guess. I don’t believe it, I don’t believe fate works that way. But I’ll let you believe in that. So you’re interested in me. So you slept with me. Now you’re sending me away, because you can’t give me what I want? When in any of this did I say I wanted to be your mate?”
Galen gaped at her. “Uh. Um. I…well. You know, there’s like. And then…” he trailed off, realizing he didn’t have an answer for her. “Shit.”
Kyla smiled back at him. “Exactly.”
“I never thought about that,” he said, wrapping his head around the massive assumption he’d made regarding her. Kyla made him feel things that he hadn’t felt since Katherine, and because of that, he’d just assumed that… “Wow.”
“Little arrogant, don’t you think?” she asked.
Galen nodded. It was arrogant of him to think that. It was even worse, because he’d even begun to fight back a sliver of hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, the winds of fate had found him a second mate, as impossible as that was supposed to be. Yet he couldn’t deny the way she made him feel.
Now he knew better.
“You’re right, of course,” he said, standing up tall as he realized his mistake and accepted it. “Yeah. Yeah, I should have known better. I am sorry for the way I treated you, Miss Langston.”
He saw her frown at the manner of address, but ignored it. The old Galen was back, his momentary indiscretion something he would handle himself. It was time that he resumed his position as King, and stopped worrying about his own life. It didn’t matter anymore. There was a war to be won.
Not once did Galen consider why Kyla had come back, if she truthfully wasn’t interested in him at all.
23
Kyla watched the transformation come over Galen. She could see him becoming revitalized, snapping out of his funk.
She’d hoped to help him do so by coming up here, but things were quickly spiraling out of control, taking a path she hadn’t planned. After her fight with Aaric, she’d decided to come up to the spire balcony and try one more time. To put herself out there, in hopes that maybe Galen would do the same.
Somehow she’d managed to do the exact opposite. Instead of encouraging him to open up to her so that they could perhaps explore things between them, whatever it was, he was determined to go the opposite route.
She almost left, then and there, but Aaric had pleaded with her to come and talk some sense into their King, to make him see reality.
And I already made the climb up here. What can it hurt to try one more time? You know he’s hiding how he truly feels.
“Miss Langston?” she asked, throwing the words back at him. “That’s a little rude, don’t you think? Again, making assumptions here.”
“What assumption am I making now?” he asked calmly, his eyes looking at her, yet focused somewhere entirely else.
What was going on behind that thick skull of his? And why was she trying so hard to get him to open up? Did she really care that much about him?
Rather than answering that question, scared of what it might be, Kyla pushed on with her conversation with Galen, fully recognizing that he wasn’t the only one concealing how he truly felt.
“From one extreme to the other,” she said with a sigh. “Now you’re assuming that I want nothing from you. That I want a cold, formal, businesslike interaction, and nothing more.”
“Do you not?”
“Galen, in all your life, have you ever met a woman who willingly sleeps with someone with whom they want nothing more than that? Seriously?”
The shifter hesitated before giving her just the tiniest of shrugs as his answer.
She thought about calling him out, telling him right then and there that she could see he cared for her, but he was hiding behind his mask like a coward, unwilling to confront what the world had put in front of him.
But she didn’t. Galen, she was pretty sure, wouldn’t respond to that sort of prodding. Not when he was still hurting. What Kyla needed was to get him to talk to her, just admit his feelings, all of them, and then they could work it out together. Somehow.
“You don’t have to stay here any longer you know,” Galen said distantly. “You can return to the mages now if you want.”
“I could have returned to them at any point,” she said, crossing her arms, not moving.
Kyla was starting to accept that she wasn’t likely to convince him to open up and let her in, but she didn’t like losing either. Turning and going at his suggestion would be tantamount to admitting defeat, and so she dug her heels in harder.
“You have what you came for,” Galen countered. “You can assure them that the shifters aren’t coming to attack. On top of that, you’ll be able to provide them with evidence that the vampires are back. The mages will have plenty of time to prepare before they come after you. Maybe it will even be enough, though I have my doubts,” he said, wincing in apology.
There was something about his body language, about the way he’d said everything so fatalistically. Kyla suddenly realized that was important if she was to understand his change of mood and attitude toward her.
“You don’t expect to win this fight, do you?” she asked softly. It was the first time she’d voiced such a question out loud, but his answer would be key to her next question.
Galen looked over her shoulder, out into the night sky, taking a long time in answer. “I have to believe that we can,” he said tightly.
It was a lie.
No, not a lie. He just phrased it carefully. He believes they can, but not that they will.
That was it, then. She understood, just like that, why Galen was so adamant on pushing her away, on keeping himself distant.
He expected to die, and the big oaf thought that by distancing himself from her, it would be the best way to possibly keep her alive.
Kyla wanted to reach out and throttle him, to let him know that it was her own decision what she did. If she wanted to die, to go down fighting at his side, than that was her choice, not his. He did not get to make it for her, like he was trying to do now.
Her eyes met his, and she could see it now, plain as day. Buried in the depths of his dark blue eyes, she could see the caring, the interest, and perhaps even the fear of what she represented—she couldn’t begin to understand what it would mean to a dragon to be given a second mate, if that was what she truly was—all buried behind his defenses.
Oh Galen. I could help you. I could help carry you burden for you, if you would only let me!
“You can confide in me,” she said quietly, still looking deep into his face, holding his gaze. “You don’t have to be the King all the time. You can just be Galen with me. I’m okay with it.”
She was putting herself out there, exposed and raw, and it scared Kyla fiercely. She’d never let someone get so close to her, dig so deep under her outer layers. Yet somehow in a manner of days, Galen had managed to work his way in deeper than anyone before.
That scared her. Terrified her, in fact, to the point of wanting to shake and tremble as her brain wandered, imagining what might have been if they had met under different circumstances, without the threat of vampires or the animosity between their kinds.
Kyla was willing to set that aside. To explore things with Galen. But first, first he would have to let her in, even just a little. Everything was in his hands, and that, she knew almost immediately, was the problem.
Galen had enough to handle, and her pushing this back on him, it was perhaps more than the stoic shifter could handle. Everyone had their breaking points, even an elder dragon, and she wondered if he even knew what he was doing. What he was throwing away.
“They are one and the same,” Galen said stubbornly, proudly.
“No the
y aren’t,” she said softly, recognizing that she wasn’t going to be able to convince him.
Kyla had come back up into the tower, convinced to give it one more shot with Galen. She would stay, right there at his side, for as long as she could. Together they would have faced the oncoming darkness as one. It was crazy, crazy, that she would be willing to lay down her life, if it meant the chance at being with him for just a few days.
Yet she would do it. In a heartbeat, though she couldn’t understand why, no matter how deeply she delved into her soul. There was something else there, something that she couldn’t understand beating in her heart. Beating for him.
But all of that, it only worked under one specific condition. A condition that hadn’t been met.
Galen had to want her to stay.
The dragon shifter and proclaimed King of House Draconis did not seem like he was willing to admit that, to her or to himself, however, and so she knew that it was over. Their time was up, and the glorious thing that could have been began to fade in her mind.
“I’m sorry I bothered you,” she said softly, fighting back tears at the thought of the future that they could have had together. It hurt to realize that it was gone, yanked away by a pain centuries old, and a threat looming over them all that was ancient compared to that.
The first tear shed a track down her cheek as she waited for a response, the pain mounting in her chest.
“It was not a bother,” Galen said, his voice emotionless as he moved past her to stand up against the balcony once more, looking out over his ‘kingdom’, and not at her. “I wish you the best.”
“Goodbye, Galen,” she whispered, then turned and fled back down the stairs before he could see the rest of the tears fall.
Behind her, Galen stood tall and straight-backed, looking out over the grounds of Drakon Keep, in every visual sense the perfect regal King. Exactly what House Draconis needed.
24
The stone wall that formed the edge of the balcony cracked and shattered as his fingers tightened, digging deep into the hand-hewn stone. Mortar crumbled to dust.
All the while Galen stared straight out, eyes seeing nothing, his mind picturing a short curvy woman running down the stairs, her short hair bouncing wildly as she went.
He could all but hear the tears as they fell. They’d been evident in her voice, and it pained him to the core to know what he’d done to her. How he’d hurt her.
It was for the best, he told himself, repeating that over and over again. Kyla stood a much better chance of surviving if she wasn’t around him or the dragons. The mages were a powerful group, and unlike the dragons, their might was fully awake. They could prepare for the vampires, and stand a real chance of surviving.
But not Kyla. Not if she stayed with him. Despite the added power her contribution would give to the cause, they were still going to die. Galen knew it, right down to his core, and how could he not? There simply wasn’t any other way that it could go. The vampires were too powerful, the dragons too few. It was simple math.
I’m sorry.
That didn’t stop his pain. Pain he’d hidden from her under his mask, keeping his emotions and feelings concealed, so that it would be easier for her. She could hate him, and that would help her move on, forget about him. He could act like she was nothing but a body to him.
Even if underneath, he’d come to believe that she was much more. But the timing was wrong and there was nothing he could do about it. The final attack would come any time now. Mere days away at most, he could feel it.
It was better to push her away before they allowed things between them to become firm and establish roots.
That didn’t mean he was immune to feeling anything. More stone crumbled, the whites of his knuckles showing as he ground the stone to dust, nothing else moving. He didn’t even blink.
Finally, his lungs screaming at him to breathe, Galen inhaled a deep, shuddering breath, fighting hard to keep his composure. To keep from shouting out.
Why did being a King have to be so difficult? All he wanted was to lead his men, and keep their spirits buoyed until fate descended upon them in a wave of shadow and death. Was it that much to ask?
Far down below, he saw a shape exit the side of the Keep, heading away toward the south. Kyla. Another figure raced after her.
Aaric. Galen watched the two of them interact for several moments, and then Kyla just walked away. He sighed in relief. She would be gone soon. Over the wall and disappearing into a portal before the vampires ever reacted to her presence. Safe and sound, out of harm’s reached, just as he hoped.
Galen sighed. He would die better, knowing that she was going to live.
Footsteps on the stone stairway echoed up to him, announcing the imminent arrival of someone else.
“Someone new come to disturb my peace,” he growled angrily, pulling his hands free of the solid stone railing, dust falling to the ground as he beat them against the sides of his legs to clean the worst off.
“Aaric,” he said calmly as the fire dragon strode out onto the balcony only moments after confronting Kyla. “Go ahead and—”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Aaric snarled furiously.
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t stutter, you air-brained moron. I asked you what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Light glowed in Aaric’s eyes. Always wary of fire dragons and their hot tempers, Galen proceeded with caution.
“I was about to ask you to call the others,” he said slowly, carefully. “But I suspect that’s not what you mean, is it?”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Aaric said in a mocking tone, his voice pitched slightly higher.
“Then what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about her,” Aaric said, stabbing a finger out in the direction Kyla had left. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong with me,” Galen said, his own anger at the way Aaric was acting starting to grow. “What is it to you?”
“You daft, thick-headed, idiotic moron!” Aaric cried, looking up to the sky, his shoulders bulging with muscle as he breathed heavily. “Stop acting so dense and pretending like you’re an imbecile. We both know that you aren’t, and that you care about her. So why are you so intent on pretending like you don’t?”
Galen glared at Aaric, but the look just washed right over the fire dragon. He just didn’t care at the moment, his fury casting everything else aside.
“I am the King of House Draconis,” Galen began.
“Some House,” Aaric spat. “We’re only five strong. Five. That’s it.”
“I know, I can count,” Galen said airly. “I am King, and as King I am doing what is best for the House, for the dragons.”
Aaric sighed. “You’re an idiot, is what you are, Galen.”
“Would you care to explain your words?” he asked tightly, the wind stirring dangerously around them.
“I wouldn’t have to, if you would stop pretending like any of this actually matters. But you’re so stuck with playing the Good King, that you can’t actually see reality anymore. You’ve blinded yourself, because you think you need to do something for the rest of us.”
“That’s what a King does,” Galen said. “He leads, so that the others will follow. We need to keep our focus, to defeat the vampires when the attack comes.”
“Defeat the vampires?” Aaric paused, eyes bugging wide. Then he threw back his head and burst into laughter.
Galen stood by stoically as it boomed on and on, the peals fading out into the night sky as Aaric howled.
“Oh, that’s rich. Too rich,” the fire dragon said, wiping a tear. Then he straightened and fire burned in both his eyes as he took a step toward Galen. “Listen to me, and listen to me good, my King. You’re a good man, a good person, but if you think that the rest of us are so stupid that we believe your words, that we can defeat the vampires? Then you’re a disgrace to us, and you don’t deserve to be King.”
Galen r
eeled back, caught off guard by the sheer vehemence and savagery of Aaric’s words.
“Oh, I get that you’re doing it because you think it’s what a King should do. That you think we need you to set an example for us. I know you aren’t being malicious,” Aaric continued, not letting up as he laid into the King verbally. “But what you are doing, is making the rest of us miserable.”
“What?” Galen was stunned at this admission. “How?”
“We know we can’t win, Galen. We’ve accepted our fates, the rest of us have. So we’re spending the last days we have enjoying them. Living our lives, laughing, loving, having copious amounts of sex and playing with the young that will continue on after we’re gone, and maybe one day rebuild the dragon race.”
“But…” Galen tried to say. Aaric slashed a hand through the air, leaving a brief fiery trail, like a shooting star.
“I’m not done yet!” the fire dragon bellowed. “That’s what we’re trying to do. But you, your attitude, as well-meaning as it might be, is depressing. Especially now.”
“We need to—”
“We have already done everything we can do!” Aaric roared, his skin bursting into flame. “Preparations have been made. Everything is in place. All we need now is to wait for things to happen. So please, Galen, Galen Drakon, not King of House Draconis, whoever the fuck that is, stop treating us like children.”
Galen licked his lips, searching for words to respond to Aaric’s accusations.
“We know what’s coming, Galen. All of us. We’re working to accept it. All of us except you. You’re denying yourself any happiness before it arrives, all because you think we need you to act like some sort of cold heartless bastard. Which we don’t. We want you to be happy. To live your life, so that the rest of us don’t feel guilty about living ours. Can you understand this?”
Galen stepped back, sitting down heavily on the stone wall.
“I never thought about it that way,” he said, still stunned at the tirade directed his way.
“No shit,” Aaric muttered. “That was obvious.”
