Fire of Stars and Dragons

by Melissa Petreshock

  Returning to folding the rose, I nod, though I know he cannot see me. “Yes. I did say this would be an experience full of firsts; however, perhaps my limitation is not my inability, but rather the fear that she deserves more… or that I deserve less, and giving her my best will not be enough.”

  “Reasonable fears, yet what do you believe she deserves? My ward whom you despise?” His tone bears an icy edge.

  “No. I should not say anyhow. Given her destiny and Dante’s involvement, nature’s course may sway her path despite what I…” The sound of glass breaking interrupts me. “Oliver, I must go.” Without further explanation, I end the call and go out the office door, moving down the darkened hallway in silence.

  Cait’s giggling and Dante’s low voice stop me, a faint glow appearing in the direction of their voices in the kitchen. Not wanting to disrupt them, I step toward the wall, out of sight. “That was amazing… and convenient. I hate cleaning.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “You should have caught it before it hit the floor though.” She giggles again.

  “If I were not entirely distracted, I would have, though were I not distracted, bottles would not be falling on the floor in the first place.” Dante’s tone is light and amused, far removed from the typical serious nature of his demeanor. “Perhaps this is not the best setting to continue such decadent indulgences.”

  I dare a glimpse around the corner, needing to know Cait is safe, to confirm it was a mere accident and nothing worrisome. She takes a sip of wine, a half smile playing at her full pink lips, tainted darker by the Chilean Malbec. Her free hand runs up his chest as she steps closer, and Dante takes her glass, setting it on the counter. The lights throughout the apartment flicker before falling dim as the color in his eyes blazes.

  She tilts her head back, wanting him, waiting, expecting his lips to meet hers, but I turn away when he leans toward her. The second he takes a breath, I catch the scent in the air of that unmistakable sweetness.

  Swift, silent, I escape to my room, closing the door behind me without the faintest noise, then lean against it, shutting my eyes though unable to shut out the sight.

  I do not know what I believed. Perhaps foolishly, I entertained the notion Cait wanted me just as I feel so entirely drawn to want her. For all the millennia I lived knowing better, too easily the idea of love seemed within the realm of possibilities. She asked me to promise, to try for her, to love her.

  And I did, though for what, I am at a loss to understand. I hold no fear Corrin will win her heart; however, my judgment seems rather misguided in the realm of Cait’s heart. Never did I consider Dante would see her as more than a mere fascination; that he would fall for her, stumble beyond intrigue and into the unfamiliar territory of love, and yet I cannot deny the evidence.

  Ambrosia. The sweet scent of a deity falling in love.… And the destiny within Cait responds.

  A shiver runs through me at the thought. I called him and asked him to come meet my first human ward, my first female ward. I brought this on myself, though my greatest mistake is quite obvious: believing for even a single moment I am any different from my brothers. Feeling the familiar burning, I pull off my t-shirt, having gotten comfortable before making my calls, preferring to relax at home in worn jeans and nothing on my feet (far more natural) and go to the private balcony doors, swinging them wide.

  The sky is a moonlit speckled blanket covering the lights of the city as I jump onto the railing with the balance and reflexes of a dragon. A dragon: it is what I am and I must not forget that, must not allow myself to entertain ideas that Cait will see me as more, would truly want me as a man, or could ever love me. Looking down to the street thirty-two stories below, the burn deepens in my back and along my shoulder blades, the shimmering of the shift beginning, and I will it to come.

  The wind blows my hair around my face as my chest muscles constrict in response to the partial shift, my human form reacting to the unfurling dragon wings at my back of the deepest emerald green as they spread out beyond the length of the wide balcony. Stretching my arms out, I stand tall above the city, using my wings to counter me from falling over the edge.

  But I know a part of me has gone over the edge, seeing Cait with Dante, and knowing she is with him at this moment.

  This is what I am, who I am, with the wings only a small part of my natural form, free of such emotional ties, frightening and dangerous to all who bring darkness into the world, and destined to go on for eternity… but not destined for Cait.

  Cait deserves something more than a dragon. I love her because love makes me more beholden to protect her by honor, a code of chivalry far older the human concepts of nobility and gallantry. The honor of the House of Pendragon is unquestionable. However great my honor may be, a dragon does not deserve the love of a woman such as Cait. I should have seen this was best. A husband from the High Realm suits her station, and Dante is most acceptable.

  Letting my head fall back, I stare up at the sky. I cannot lose her to Dante. She was never mine, never more than my ward. What I want does not matter. I must allow her free will.

  To each our own destiny.

  “Holy… What the baz are you doing, you crazy dragon?”

  Caught unexpectedly by Cait, I pull my wings in close, willing the shift to shimmer them away as I spin around, still balanced on the railing. Despite cursing at me in Penfaeryn and calling me names, she’s devouring every inch of me with her eyes when I face her. I wear only a smirk and a pair of faded blue jeans. She may fall in love with Dante, but I will not fail to appreciate what attention she gives me.

  Her face flushes. I would like to think it is in reaction to me, though I saw the three empty wine bottles in the kitchen. She opens her mouth, closing it again without speaking, hiding her face in her hands then dropping them to her sides and shaking her head.

  “What are you doing, Theo?” Cait’s tone cuts the silence with a sharp-edged blade.

  I run both hands over my hair, not wanting to be honest, but unable to lie outright to my ward. Glancing at the city lights, I take a deep breath. “I needed a bit of space and fresh air, a new perspective.” That isn’t untrue. There is not enough room in the apartment for Dante kissing Cait and me knowing it to be in the same vicinity.

  She nods. “Oh, is that so? And do you typically get fresh air while half-naked and acting like some suicidal gargoyle on the edge of the balcony?” Cait walks over to the railing, looking down at the street below. “You should get down. You’re worrying me.”

  “You should not worry for me, Cait. I’m no gargoyle,” I reply, laughing quietly at her odd behaviors. I find her constant unexpectedness enthralling. “I am a dragon, Cait.” Something I must keep reminding myself. How I love her is not how she deserves. “Even should I fall, I can shift to full dragon form in an instant. I have no fear of hitting the sidewalk given I have wings.”

  “I would love to fly,” she comments in a whisper, staring into the endless night sky.

  There are many things I want to say, things I should not. “Did you come looking for me for something?”

  “Yep.”

  She does not elaborate, and I have a feeling I’m receiving some form of retribution for my abrupt, frustrating responses that angered her earlier. “Must I guess your reason, or would you be so kind as to reveal it?”

  A broad smile spreads across her face, and I desire to kiss those lips, melt away thoughts of Dante, burn myself into her memory, her dreams, her fantasies. “Dante went to pick up Thai food. After a few drinks, I told him I didn’t feel like going anywhere. Anyway, I was wondering what Sir Oliver said about the king. Should I be expecting him tonight?”

  Once again, she asks a question begging an answer I do not wish to explain. “I must call my brother again. We were interrupted during our conversation before I determined that particular information.”

  “Good, then you have a reason to get down from there.” Cait grins up at me.

  Laughing, I retrieve my GoSky from my pocket.
“Not necessarily so.”

  She scowls. “Damn you, Theo. Get your ass down here, now.” Her voice cracks while attempting to sound demanding.

  I jump down, landing solidly on my feet in front of her. “There. Are you happy?” She throws her arms around me with near desperation. “Cait, what is wrong?” An errant thought leads me to wrap her in my arms as well, holding her tight. “Did Dante do something to hurt you?” I could never forgive myself for being so selfish, leaving her alone with him while caught up in my own concerns, leaving her unattended with a man simply because I believed him trustworthy.

  Cait shakes her head, her face rubbing against my chest. “Don’t do that again.” She slaps me on the arm, hard. “Stay off the bazynh railing, you big idiot.” This woman thoroughly confounds me. “I don’t care what you say. I don’t want to see you up there again.”

  “I wasn’t leaving, Cait.” I sense her fear, though I believe my earlier explanation clarified the dragon/ward relationship. “Perhaps we should go inside.” Leading her toward the doors, I don’t give her the opportunity to argue. “How did you find me?”

  “You weren’t in the office.” Cait’s cheek rests on my chest, one arm around me as she runs her fingers over my stomach. Alcohol-induced as her actions are, I must take her hand in mine, unable to tolerate the sensations her touch arouses within me. “Dante’s not what I expected.” Her comment sounds randomly chosen, filling silence.

  Nothing seems to be what any of us expected today. A day full of surprises, even for those of us never surprised by anything. “How so?” I gather she’s far more attracted to him than she expected.

  Cait pushes away, walking to the door, and I think she’s going to leave without answering when she spins on her heel, slamming her body against the frame in a huff. “I expected this was some sort of game to him, or maybe he was just being nice and offering some other option, but he… he acts like he actually likes me. Actually, he acts like he feels more than that. Am I crazy?” She holds her hand up, glaring. “No. Wait. Don’t answer that. I don’t even want to know your opinion on my sanity or lack thereof.”

  Dropping her hand, she lets her head fall back, relaxed, eyes closed. I pick up my discarded shirt, slipping it on before I succumb to my own ideas while Dante is out of the apartment. “For the record, you are not crazy. At least not regarding this particular matter.” I can’t resist leaving Cait curious as to what I may mean, just as she leaves me at each turn. Swallowing with great difficulty, I tell her what she wants to know, needs to know. “He is genuine in his affections, Cait.”

  No one dares accuse Dante of insincerity, disrespects him with such untruths.

  Her jaw tightens, teeth grinding together, tension and anxiety distressing her beautiful face. “As genuine as you, Theo?” she asks at last, voice quiet and pained, though not pained to the depths my heart sinks, knowing I must answer.

  I turn away, eyes closed, unwilling to look at her face, fearing to do so would draw out the words I desire to speak rather than those that are necessary. “Must you ask?”

  “If you know, is it really unfair for me to ask—as your ward—if this is safe?” Sarcasm thickens her tone, aware I choose to be difficult.

  “He can and will love you the way you want, the way you deserve. And as a deity, a son of the High Realm, Dante holds a position appropriate for your chosen husband given your… status, Cait.” I do not wish to discuss this matter now and I refuse to compare myself to him, not aloud, and certainly not for her to hear.

  “So, you’re giving up and passing the buck, or in this case, passing me on to the man you think is right for me?” I hear her hand smack the door. “Look at me,” she demands. “Was your promise a lie?”

  By Cait’s next breath I’m on her, hands in her hair, pressing my body to hers. “A Pendragon does not forsake a promise. We abide by honor.” My lips brush hers as I speak. “You smell of red wine and of him. Is this what you wish for? To tease me, taunt me, and see my reaction?”

  She breathes heavily, chest rising and falling in sync with mine. “I’m not playing games, and I’m not teasing you, Theo.” By no accident, her lips touch mine one lingering moment. “I need to know I’m not wrong.” I look down to meet her eyes, puzzled by those words. “You are trying. You want me to choose you. I’m not wrong to be afraid of falling in love with someone else, of losing what I could have with you, Theo.”

  I want to hold her in my arms, take her to my bed, show her every way I could and would love her, adore her, worship her body like a goddess. “Do not refuse to consider what a life with Dante offers, or hold onto hope that I can give as much. As your guardian, my protection I swear eternally. But love—true, romantic love… I promise to try for this, Cait, yet I cannot guarantee the outcome.”

  The flickering electricity in the room warns of Dante’s return, and before either of us says more, he calls for her. I step back, giving her space to move. Without a word, she meets my eyes once more then slips out. Watching the door close, I stand wishing Cait would change her mind and come back to me, but I hear her greeting him as if nothing transpired between us and sit on the side of my bed, GoSky in hand to call Oliver again.

  “What happened? Is everything alright?” he asks the second the call connects.

  I ask myself the same, unsure if the wine or her heart spoke on Cait’s behalf. “Nothing. Everything. Yes. No. Oh, Goddess, brother, what am I doing?”

  Oliver chuckles. “I haven’t the faintest. I’ve never been in your predicament, and given what you’re experiencing, I daresay I hope I never am.”

  “You are ever so not helpful.” My brother is quite exasperating at times. “Does the king intend to see my Cait tonight?”

  “Your Cait?” He questions the slight misspoken phrasing that tells the truth of it all. “Whatever you choose to call her, Corrin asks you bring her to him first thing in the morning, before he prepares for his day.”

  “No.”

  “No? Is that the response you wish me to pass on?” His amusement is quite clear. We both know what the young vampire has in mind: to feed on her, hoping she may be the answer, the cure, to his illness. I have no doubt he also intends to treat her no differently than any other woman he requests to see in the morning, luring her to bed, using her, degrading her like a common whore.

  “Of course not, Oliver. You can tell the king I said, ‘Fuck no. Over my dead body will he see her on such terms.’ Then you may tell him good luck accomplishing that particular task.” Defensive and growling, I’m furious he considers Cait so easy to manipulate, as if I would allow such a thing. “When he plans to court a lady with a measure of propriety, let me know. We will coordinate then.”

  “Very well, brother.” A sigh speaks to his resignation, alleviating awkward tension. “I knew you would not approve, but there is no explaining the situation to him, I fear. We shall speak again soon.”

  The line disconnected, I hold the mobile in my hands, sliding my thumb up and down, scrolling through contacts, knowing one person I could call, could trust, could turn to for advice. The sound of Cait’s laughter echoes through what has been my home, yet now, I cannot imagine home being anywhere without Cait in my arms.

  I need better perspective than I’ve found on my own, and Oliver has none to offer.

  Tapping the contact of debate, I hold the phone to my ear, smiling with relief when I hear the voice on the other end. “Yes, brother, it has been too long. Perchance would you be interested in a visit to Boston? I have a favor to ask.”

  Chapter 5

  *Cait*

  He unnerves me like no one I’ve ever known, though I’ve never known a demigod before, which could have something to do with it.

  “How are they?” Dante asks as I’m stuffing my face with Thai curry noodles.

  Shrugging, I swallow. “Very noodle-like.” That’s my best answer considering I’m about half-starved and eating faster than I can taste.

  “May I try a bite?” Dante sets down his ri
ce soup, waiting with a polite, expectant smile.

  I almost snort but manage to control myself. “No. I really don’t think we’re to the whole ‘food sharing’ level yet.”

  Creases form between his brows as he purses his lips, doing that contemplative thing again, and I wonder what’s on his mind this time. “Romantically involved couples often engage in such acts, do they not?”

  “Yes.”

  “Am I mistaken to believe we are involved so?” He lifts his brow, and to be honest, confusion looks incredibly odd on him.

  I blink slowly, deliberately, taking deep breaths, processing today’s events, everything I’ve done and said, how he might see it, and how he must view us.

  “Dante, I could blame it on too many bottles of wine, but in all honesty, I let myself get carried away. You’re a lot different than I thought you would be, much easier to like. But that doesn’t mean I know what I want to do about this situation yet, or who I want to choose.”

  “Yes. Of course.” He states agreeable words, but his eyes are less electric blue than moments before. It’s something I’m still getting used to, the way his eyes change, supernatural even in the supernatural world.

  “We did just meet today, you know.” Dante nods, saying nothing, and what was comfortable is now awkward. “It’s getting late, and I’ve got a test tomorrow,” I say as a truthful excuse to clean up and escape.

  In an instant, he’s on his feet reaching a hand, offering to help me up from our casual dining on the floor around the coffee table. I accept and we both gather remnants of our late dinner, hauling them to the kitchen.

  “In which course is your instructional exam tomorrow?”

  I notice he falls in and out of speaking too formally, sometimes seeming comfortable interacting as if human, and at other times clearly out of his element. “Developmental psychology of adolescent Fae. Probably the worst class I’ve taken.”

  “A complicated subject given their adolescence lasts, on average, a quarter of a century. You should have mentioned this earlier. I could have assisted you in preparing.” I think he’s serious, talking while he’s finding room in the fridge for our leftovers. “I’ve done vast research regarding the Fae and have three doctorates in psychology: developmental, behavioral, and experimental.”