by Jenn Burke
“My sister’s eard al’usra.” The odd-sounding phrase tripped easily off Nassim’s lips, but then he frowned. “Humans have no equivalent. It’s the first presentation of her child to family.”
Aidan’s brows rose. “Are you sure it’s okay that I come with you?”
“It’s fine. You’ll need to stay in the house as we witness the birth of her shab and its progression to her pouch, but after—”
“Wait.” Aidan shifted in his seat so he was facing Nassim. “I think I need a quick biology lesson.”
Nassim twisted his lips and kept his eyes on the road. “This is not my favorite topic.”
“You’re bringing me to this… this airdal—”
“Eard al’usra.”
“So the least you can do is tell me what to expect.”
Nassim was silent for a moment, long enough for Aidan to wonder if he was going to explain at all. Then he said, “Dragons give birth to live young.”
“I thought dragons laid eggs?”
“A common misconception. That’s gryphons.”
“Huh. Okay, so, live young.” Something Nassim had said a moment ago clicked into place. “Wait—a pouch? Are you telling me dragons are like kangaroos?”
“This is why I despise this topic.” Nassim groaned and glared at Aidan. “We are not marsupials. We share some characteristics with them. That’s all.”
“Giant sky kangaroos.” Aidan nodded smugly.
“May I remind you I breathe fire.”
“Giant sky kangaroos who breathe fire.”
Nassim growled.
Aidan grinned. “You won’t set me on fire.”
“No.” Nassim huffed. “The smell is terrible.”
I don’t want to think about how he knows that.
It was another hour before they arrived at Nassim’s family estate. After dragging additional bits of information out of Nassim, Aidan felt more prepared.
Nassim had two siblings, Fazl and Inas. Inas was mated and already had five children. Fazl was not mated and had no children, something Aidan didn’t find hard to believe. Their parents had “returned to the sands fifty years ago,” whatever that meant. Aidan thought maybe it was a metaphor for death, but he didn’t press for clarification. Inas, as the oldest sibling, was now the matriarch of the Kader clan, which included all sorts of cousins, adoptees from other clans, and what generally sounded like an enormous amount of people… dragons.
Hanging out in the house was sounding better and better, but part of Aidan rankled at the fact that Nassim kept repeating it. Though… he understood Nassim’s reluctance. Things had already blurred between them, thanks to Aidan’s need for a babysitter until his brain worked out its issues. Or until Aidan could stomach being alone again. Maybe Nassim just wanted to make sure things didn’t get even more confused.
Fazl was waiting for them as they pulled into a parking lot that already contained a half-dozen cars in front of a large, rustic-looking house. The main building was constructed from rough-hewn stone, but additions in gray brick and siding, clearly from more modern times, crept backward on both sides. Aidan didn’t have much time to admire it before Fazl was at his door, pulling it open.
“About time you got here.” Fazl’s welcoming smile darkened to a scowl as he glared at Nassim over the roof of the car. “You almost missed it.”
“Aidan, make yourself at home inside.” Nassim gestured to the front door of the house.
Fazl gripped Aidan’s shoulder, stopping him. “Nassim, what—”
“It’ll be too crowded.” But Nassim couldn’t quite meet Fazl’s eyes.
With a tiny growl, Fazl released Aidan’s shoulder. “You’re a fool,” he said softly to his brother. When he turned back to Aidan, his smile had returned, but it wasn’t as wide as before. “There’s a buffet already laid out in the dining room. Drinks are in the fridge in the kitchen. Help yourself.”
Aidan frowned. “I’m just supposed to walk in there and—”
A shriek cut through the night, loud enough to make the windows of the car rattle.
Fazl looked into the distance behind the house. “It’s time.”
“Go inside,” Nassim said to Aidan. “I’ll join you soon.”
Before Aidan could protest again, the brothers raced off into the darkness to one side of the house.
Aidan stared after them. Then he contemplated the front door. Go inside like a good little human? Nassim had asked him to, so he should. He knew he should.
He also knew he wasn’t going to.
Trying to stay as silent as possible, Aidan jogged after Nassim and Fazl. A flagstone path led him around the house, bordered by pale blue solar-powered garden lights. They gave off just enough light so the dark wasn’t completely dark, but not enough to allow Aidan to actually see much. A branch slapped him across the cheek, and he cursed as he belatedly ducked his head.
There was a rumble in the air like a mob of humans muttering under their breath, not quite a chant, but rhythmic, compelling. It pulled at something in Aidan’s chest, and he absently rubbed the marks over his heart.
The flagstone path and its useless lights disappeared, replaced by a wide dirt trail. In the distance he could make out a yellow-orange glow. Firelight. The rumble rose in pitch, and he fought the urge to run—toward it. His fear was gone as thoroughly as if it had never existed in the first place. All he felt now was warmth and a need to be close to whatever was happening.
He rounded a corner in the path and froze, his mouth dropping open in awe at the sight before him.
Dragons. In dragon form. More than he could count. All black, all shapes and sizes, all gathered in a semicircle around a pair of dragons entwined together. He couldn’t pick out Nassim. The mouth of a cave gaped off to the side, large enough that a dragon could pass through it. A rock face extended upward behind the dragons, high enough that Aidan couldn’t see the top of it. It was like an amphitheater of sorts. Aidan couldn’t tell if the cliff and the cave were natural or fashioned by the dragons, but it didn’t matter.
The sight before him consumed all other questions.
What he’d thought was chanting was simply the sound of a clan of dragons breathing in sync. It—strangely—spoke of safety… welcome. There was nothing here to be worried about, nothing to alarm anyone. Two dozen dragons—more—breathing slowly, evenly, as though they had no care in the world, as though this were the safest place for them and their children.
Aidan staggered to the side and sank down behind a large rock as he realized what he was seeing. He was—good God, he was witnessing a mythos birth. He shoved a hand against his mouth to hold in the sudden rush of emotion. He blinked hard, trying to rid his vision of tears so he could see clearly again, but it was difficult to pick out anything in the flickering light of the fire with the dragon bodies swaying slightly as they breathed. They all seemed fixated on the two dragons. Was one of them Inas? That would make sense. And her…. What had Nassim called it? Her shab would be making its way to the pouch.
Amazing. Simply ama—
As one, the dragons reared up and roared to the sky. Aidan clapped his hands over his ears and stumbled back from his rock. The ground shook and the trees swayed back and forth violently enough that Aidan had a brief thought that they might actually fall.
Then he was the one who was falling.
He barely had enough time to shout before the ground rushed up to meet him.
“I TOLD you to stay in the house.”
Aidan winced at the volume of Nassim’s voice and pressed the cold pack more firmly against the lump on the side of his head as he reclined on the leather couch in the study. “I know.”
“It wasn’t me being an autocratic asshole, you know.”
Aidan raised his brows at Nassim’s casual use of a swear. He glanced at Fazl, who seemed to be fighting a smile.
“What?” Nassim demanded.
Fazl cleared his throat. “I think you startled him with the curse word.”
Nass
im narrowed his eyes. “I could startle him with a lot more.”
“Look, I get it,” Aidan said. “You didn’t want me there. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want you there. Gods.” Nassim sighed. “Thirty-two dragons in dragon form, Aidan, and you the lone human among them. Do you understand how easy it would be for you to be accidentally hurt?”
Aidan arched a brow meaningfully and lifted the ice pack away from his head.
“Yes, that was an accident, but it could have been so much worse. You could have been hit with a tail or stepped on or—” Nassim swallowed. “Something that could have injured you much worse than a tumble down a short hill.”
Aidan barely noticed Fazl retreating out of the study and closing the door behind him. “Maybe. But… dammit, Nassim, you can’t make choices for me.”
“Is that what you think I was doing?”
“That is what you were doing.” With a sigh Aidan sat up and placed the ice pack on the coffee table. His head and body protested the movement, but he ignored the complaints. “You didn’t ask if I wanted to attend. You didn’t give me a breakdown of the risks and rewards. You simply decided that I couldn’t be there.”
“Aidan—”
“I might be damaged and not necessarily… whole,” Aidan said, looking up at Nassim, “but that doesn’t mean I need constant protection, and it doesn’t mean that I can’t think for myself or look after myself.” He pushed against the couch and tried to rise, only to discover his muscles seemed to have seized up. He fell back to the couch with a grunt. “Shit.”
“Don’t be stubborn,” Nassim said in a low, rumbly voice. “Just lie down and relax for a bit.”
“I was trying to make a dramatic exit.”
“I think you’ve used up your supply of dramatic exits and entrances.” Nassim perched on the coffee table as Aidan stretched out, grimacing. “Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere,” Aidan admitted with a humorless laugh.
“That will teach you to roll down a hill.”
“Right? What was I thinking.”
“Something I wonder about frequently.” But there was no sharpness to Nassim’s tone and no dragonfire in his black eyes. Only… softness. Concern.
Aidan’s gaze skittered around the room. “This is… uh… nice.”
Nassim looked up, taking in the butter-yellow walls and rich wood furniture. There were knickknacks all over, but not the sort of precious treasures Nassim displayed in his penthouse. No, these were less refined, as though created with less skilled hands—childlike hands.
“Inas never met a creation by one of her kids that she didn’t like,” Nassim said with a smile. “They all get a place of honor.”
“Oh. So this is Inas’s study?”
Nassim nodded. “Her husband, David, has a workshop out back.”
“What does he do?”
“Artistic woodworking.”
“And Inas?”
Nassim wouldn’t meet his eyes. “She’s a psychologist.”
Aidan jerked upward, but a sudden spike of pain from his abused muscles prevented him from rising fully. “Are you kidding me? And you never talked to her about—”
“No.”
Of all the stupid, idiot-brained…. “Why?”
“Because she’s my sister, and I love her,” Nassim said. “She doesn’t need to know about… those things. She has enough bad memories of her own.”
So he was protecting her, just like he tried to protect Aidan, by making solitary decisions instead of talking shit out.
“You can lean on other people, you know,” Aidan said quietly.
Nassim didn’t say anything for a few moments, though his shoulders grew tense. It was almost as though he were fighting something—some thoughts, some action he wanted to take, something. Aidan couldn’t puzzle it out, but he wanted to. He wanted to know what thoughts ran through Nassim’s head, why he made the decisions he did, what motivated him, what drove him, what he wanted out of his life.
Maybe even who he wanted.
“You—” Aidan swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. “You don’t have to be alone all the time.”
Nassim’s dark eyes met Aidan’s, and Aidan felt like he could fall into their fathomless depths. They could absorb him, consume him. But it would be okay. It would be all right.
Because it was Nassim.
Nassim blinked and stood, looking everywhere but at Aidan. “Are you hungry? Let me get you a plate from the buffet. I’ll—I’ll be right back.”
Then he fled.
That was the only word for it. Nassim didn’t run, but he didn’t look back either, and there was nothing casual about the near panic in his black eyes or how he banged his shin on the side table as he moved around it or nearly slammed his shoulder into the doorframe.
Something had Nassim good and spooked. But what scared a dragon who swore he was frightened of nothing?
FOG still clung to the ground the next morning when Aidan stepped out onto the back deck. He’d been shown to a guest room for the night, a good thing since Nassim had never returned to the study. He’d sent Fazl in with a plate instead. Despite Aidan’s best efforts to get information out of Fazl about what had Nassim running scared, Fazl had proven himself to be even more adept at avoiding questions than Nassim. Maybe it was a dragon thing?
After a hot bath and some sleep, Aidan felt much better, enough that the thought of walking through the woods to a cave to possibly speak to Nassim’s older sister, in dragon form, was only terrifying and not impossible.
Yay.
The world seemed to dangle in a weird sort of purgatory where it wasn’t night any longer but wasn’t truly day yet either. Everything was hushed, quiet. The occasional flap of wings seemed unnaturally loud as Aidan’s movements along the path scared the birds into flight. He felt as though the world were holding its breath, waiting to see what he’d do, if he’d have the balls to do what he planned. He hoped Inas wouldn’t mind the early morning visit, but he hadn’t wanted to risk a confrontation with Nassim about his plan.
Even though Fazl wasn’t forthcoming about Nassim’s motivations, he was more than happy to share information about what Aidan had witnessed in the amphitheater. Apparently the roar was the celebration of Inas’s shab reaching her pouch. The little dragon, genderless for the moment, would stay there for three months, growing and getting ready to emerge into the world. Until that time, Inas was confined to her dragon form and mostly to the cave in the amphitheater. In the past she would still have been able to hunt and fly, but these days, dragons tried to stay out of sight as much as possible, Fazl explained.
Aidan had to admit there was wisdom in that—scared humans were stupid humans. He wondered if it was common knowledge how much the mythos creatures had modified their traditions to accommodate and sustain the peace. Probably not, given what he’d gleaned from the internet over the past few days. The Mythos Kingdom was barely mentioned by major news outlets, with the exception of the occasional puff piece about King Luca and his consort, Prince Eirian, as though they and the rest of the world preferred to pretend gryphons and dragons and all the other mythos creatures didn’t exist. As both Nassim and Fazl had alluded, they were well aware of how terrifying they could be.
But, Aidan realized as he passed through the mouth of the amphitheater cave, terrifying wasn’t quite a strong enough word.
The cave, which looked moderately large from the outside, opened into an enormous cavern that had to take up the majority of the interior of the hill. Aidan’s feet sank into deep, loose, strangely warm sand. The air itself smelled like smoke, not the scent of woodsmoke lingering from the remains of the bonfire a short distance behind him, but an earthier scent reminiscent of rocks baking under a scorching summer sun. The same scent from Nassim’s cave.
Two dragons lay entwined in the center of the cavern, barely visible in the cool light of dawn. Like the previous night, they were entwined so thoroughly—limbs, necks, tails—that Ai
dan couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. The only difference Aidan could discern after regarding them for a few moments was that one was slightly larger than the other, and the smaller one had additional armored plates on its shoulders and head. A soft rumble reverberated throughout the cavern, varying in pitch and intensity.
Then the pitch of the rumble changed, and Aidan found himself facing two sets of eyes gilded by dragonfire.
“Um….” He swallowed. “Hi. I’m Aidan? Nassim’s, um, executive assistant?”
Was that smoke trickling upward from a pair of nostrils?
Aidan rubbed his moist palms against his jeans and tried to regulate his breathing. He could do this—for Nassim, he could do this. “Your brother needs to see a therapist, and I was hoping you would be able to recommend one.”
The larger of the dragons lifted its head. “What do you mean?”
That was definitely a female voice, despite its deep and rumbly nature. “You’re Inas, then?”
“Yes. You knew me, though I admit the last time you saw me, I was much smaller and wearing a dress.”
“Oh. Uh… I knew you? Did you come visit Nassim often too?”
“Something like that,” she said. “You feel Nassim needs a therapist?”
Aidan didn’t miss how she avoided the question, but finding Nassim a therapist was more important than gleaning additional details about how and when Aidan had met Inas. “Or to talk to someone. In a professional capacity. He, uh, admitted he has some issues with social anxiety.”
“He admitted that?” Inas reared back her head, her eyes widening. “Congratulations, Aidan. I’ve been trying to get him to admit that for a hundred years.”
“Really?”
“Really. I knew you were good for him.”
“Uh… I’m just his assistant.”
“Of course,” Inas said quickly. “And a very good one at that.” She blew out a breath that smelled of charcoal. “Love, would you mind sending that email I have in draft in my inbox to Aidan?”
David nuzzled Inas’s brow ridge. “Not at all. I’ll be right back.”
Suddenly there was only one dragon in front of Aidan—and one very naked man. Aidan gave him a quick smile and a nod and averted his gaze. Was he just supposed to follow David’s naked form back to the house? Oh—something new to add to his list of Aidan-isms—he wasn’t uncomfortable with the nudity itself so much as the fact that David’s nudity should not be his to witness. Kinda weird, but okay.
