by Rinelle Grey
Prince Taurian’s expression didn’t change. He stared at Ostrian, his eyes hard and unforgiving.
It didn’t matter to him that Ostrian had acted in the best interest of the clan. He couldn’t get over the fact that Ostrian had tried to keep him from his human lifemate. Ostrian’s shoulders slumped.
Mary patted his arm, as though trying to comfort him, but it didn’t help.
He’d messed up. Badly.
But even if his prince didn’t forgive him, he had to listen. Ostrian had to convince him. There was too much at stake for personal concerns to get in the way. Ostrian would take whatever punishment his prince metered out if it meant he listened.
“I understand if you wish to remove me from the elder’s council over this,” Ostrian said stiffly, suddenly feeling a surprising affinity for the letter writing dragon, who had lost his own position for a similar revelation. “But please don’t ignore my advice because of that. This time I am sure of the information I’m giving you, and I have the numbers to prove it. We need to establish an ongoing relationship with the humans if we’re ever to have viable numbers of life dragons again. If I’d realised this earlier, then we might have defeated Ultrima long ago.”
Ostrian could feel all the dragons staring at him. They were all shocked that he’d admitted he was wrong, but Ostrian didn’t care. He always admitted when he was wrong.
It just rarely happened. That was why they’d never seen it before.
He didn’t shift his eyes from his prince. His was the only opinion he cared about. He was the one who could use this information to make a difference. And being mated to a human himself, he was already inclined to believe Ostrian.
Wasn’t he?
Prince Taurian opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He stared at Ostrian, still looking a little stunned.
Ostrian suppressed his self satisfied expression. He didn’t care what they thought of him, so long as they believed him.
Princess Lyrian stepped forwards and put a hand on Prince Taurian’s arm. “Perhaps it is time to call the retreat off. Stay here and face up to the humans and try to find a way that we can share this land, without fighting.”
She understood it. Perhaps because she hadn’t known him as long and wasn’t being confused by disbelief that he’d changed his mind. Ostrian nodded agreement. If he could convince her…
“Yes. We need to find a way to connect with the humans. That is what we must do,” Ostrian agreed quickly, glad someone else could see what was so obvious to him.
Prince Taurian turned his disbelieving face towards Lyrian. This time, his annoyance wasn’t just for Ostrian. Some of it was focused on his sister.
“A few hours ago, you were urging me to abandon our lair and go into hiding, and now you’re just changing your mind? Because of this?” He waved a hand in Ostrian’s direction, clearly not convinced, despite Ostrian’s best efforts.
Ostrian wasn’t sure what else he could offer that might convince him. He bit back a sigh.
Prince Taurian wasn’t paying any attention to him at all anyway. He stared at Lyrian. “You think because we tell the humans we need them, they’re suddenly going to be friendly towards us? I don’t want to hide any more than the next dragon, I’ve made my feelings on that clear, but is this new information really enough to change what is right for the safety of our clan?”
Princess Lyrian drew herself up, she wasn’t intimidated by her brother’s stern tone, and said firmly, “We ran from the humans in England. We found a continent away from them, where they wouldn’t bother us. But they followed us here. There is nowhere else to run. Nowhere we will ever truly be hidden from them. Our only option is to find a way to coexist here.” Her voice was certain. Determined. She wasn’t going to listen to any arguments.
And despite the fact that she was agreeing with him, her words filled Ostrian with more than a little dread. He’d come here to talk the dragons into working with the humans, but he hadn’t really thought too hard about what that would entail. He hadn’t considered the possibility that they were opening themselves up to potential attack.
Even if the dragons needed humans, could they trust them?
Before Ostrian could say anything, before he could even think what he might say, another dragon stepped into the conversation.
A lightning dragon—her silver eyes and hair proclaimed.
Ostrian stared in disbelief. Where had she come from? What was a Trima dragon doing here? Had he just revealed vital information in front of the enemy?
The lightning dragon frowned at both of them. “You were the one who urged this course of action, Lyrian. We can’t just flip back and forth on our decisions all the time. Maybe our future is with the humans, I don’t know yet. But right now, I think we need to leave here and find somewhere safe, where we can consider our options without the pressure to make a snap decision.”
Ostrian frowned. Why was she talking like she lived here? Almost like she owned the place? There were no lightning dragons in Rian clan, except…
Ostrian felt like his eyes might pop out of his head. This couldn’t be?
Was it?
Was this Princess Sarian?
Apparently he’d missed a lot more than he thought while he was ‘researching’.
Chapter 12
Mary was proud of how Ostrian had fought to convince Taurian and Lyrian of what he’d found out. She was impressed that he’d persisted, even when Taurian had been angry with him for changing his view at this late stage.
It took courage to admit when you were wrong, and it was never easy. A few days ago, she never would have believed he was capable of it. But she’d learned a lot about Ostrian in the last day. He was far more complex, and far more interesting, than she had imagined.
She just wished she could do more to help him convince the others to believe him, but every time she spoke up, or intervened, it only seemed to make things worse. She suspected that they thought Ostrian’s change of heart had something to do with her.
And part of it probably did. But not the part that concerned them.
The new princess with the blue hair was staring off into space with a faraway look in her eye. It took Mary a few minutes to realise what was happening. She was communicating with another dragon using their mental telepathy. The others waited patiently until she finished.
A few moments later, she took a deep breath and turned back to them. “Looks like we have to make a decision now. Brad is outside with some humans who wish to speak to us about the future between their people and ours. Are we willing to give this a chance, or are we going to run and hide?”
Outside with humans now? Somehow, Mary hadn’t expected the decision to come so soon. Had the dragons had long enough to take in what Ostrian had told them, to really understand what it meant for the clan? Were they ready to make the best decision?
Taurian, of course, immediately bristled at the suggestion of hiding. “I’m not afraid of humans,” he said flatly. “If they want to talk, I say we listen.”
The other dragon, even newer than the blue haired one, was more cautious. “Who are these people? Are they a risk to us? Is it perhaps better that we get the clan, at least, to safety while we talk to them?”
The others listened seriously to her questions, so she was obviously someone important.
Lyrian shook her head. “I don’t have answers to any of those questions. But I do know that we’re going to have to stop running eventually. Why not now? The humans are extending a hand of friendship to us. This may not happen again.”
The silver haired dragon stared at Lyrian, her expression uncertain. Unlike Taurian and Lyrian, she looked rather lost. Almost like she didn’t quite fit in here. Like she didn’t belong in this world. she looked to Lyrian, as though needing her advice.
“The rewards of opening a dialogue with the humans, of finding a way we can coexist in peace, outweigh the risks,” Lyrian said firmly. “If we don’t take this chance, we’re going to regret it.”
>
The silver haired dragon looked from Lyrian, to Taurian, then back again. Both of them offered her silent encouragement but didn’t say anything. She gave a soft sigh. “It seems we have no choice. We will talk to the humans and see what they want. But make sure everyone is ready, just in case things go wrong.”
Mary let out a sigh of relief. They were going to give this a chance.
She wasn’t sure how much of Ostrian’s information had really sunk in, or affected their decision, but at least now they would get the chance to find out. She squeezed Ostrian’s arm, and he smiled at her, relief in his expression too.
Lyrian’s eyes grew vacant again, talking to her mate probably.
“What’s going on?” the silver haired dragon demanded impatiently.
Lyrian frowned a little. “Apparently we’re not just talking to the humans who are here. They’re using their technology to broadcast this meeting across the world. This is our chance to make an impression on humans, once and for all. I need your help to get ready.”
Mary’s heart skipped a beat. National television. Probably international, for this story.
Ostrian’s arm tensed under hers. “I should come with you,” he said firmly. “I can help you with what to say to the humans.”
The look Lyrian gave him was amused. “We thank you for your help, Ostrian, your information was vital to making this decision, but we can handle it from here.”
Her words were a clear dismissal. And Mary’s heart ached when she realised why.
Ostrian certainly wouldn’t give a good impression to the humans. His tone was too acerbic, and he was too likely to tell the truth, even if it was ugly. This discussion would be a delicate one, the first meeting of humans and dragons, and they were concerned he would say the wrong thing.
She didn’t blame them. He probably would.
Still, she felt bad for him, he looked so dejected. “If that is what you wish, Princess,” he said obediently, but Mary could hear the disappointment in his voice.
The other dragons seemed oblivious. They headed off, talking furiously, making plans.
Plans that they weren’t a part of.
Mary was used to that. She was an outsider in the clan. Her only reason to be here was her niece, Gretchen, and that was a slim reason. She’d spent the last few weeks hovering around the edges of the clan, just enjoying being a part of it. Until today anyway. Now, suddenly, she felt right in the middle. Her heart ached for this to work out, for them to find a solution.
It hurt that she’d been excluded from the decision making. But it must hurt twice as much for Ostrian, who, up until Taurian had been woken, had been one of the dragons in charge. He’d called the shots.
Having to take a back seat must be quite a blow to him.
He stared after the prince and princess, his face blank, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself now.
Mary wished she could give him a big hug, and force the feeling away, but she suspected it wouldn’t be enough.
And it wouldn’t be fair either. Ostrian needed to work through this. He needed to find a new purpose, a new reason for living.
“They certainly seem to be managing things pretty well,” Mary said to him, patting his arm.
Ostrian stared at her, as though she’d just stabbed him. “Managing things well?” he repeated, his voice incredulous. “They’re just children. Far too young for the burdens on their shoulders. How can we expect them to make decisions for the future of the clan when they don’t have enough experience and knowledge to do so?”
It was hard to really argue with his point. The dragon princes and princesses were young.
But Mary was painfully aware that she’d used the same argument in her head when she’d been trying to convince Gretchen to take a job in the city, rather than continuing to work in the Mungaloo library.
She’d pushed her niece to accept, sure that she’d known what was best for her, despite Gretchen’s objections. She hadn’t been willing to listen to the fact that her niece didn’t want a different job and enjoyed the work she did.
“It is their clan,” Mary said softly. “They are the ones responsible for it. We can offer advice, but the reality is, they’re the ones who have to live with the consequences of their decision.”
Ostrian stared at her as if she’d just grown two heads. “Their clan? The clan doesn’t belong to them. We’re all part of this clan, and we all have to live with the consequences of their decision.”
He was both right and wrong at the same time. Mary tried to explain. “Yes, we are all involved, which is why I’m sure they’re always ready to listen to your opinion. But the reality is, that in the end, someone has to make the decision. What makes you think you’ll be better at it than they are?”
Ostrian puffed out his chest a little. “I’ve been a member of the elder’s council for ten years now. And a member of Rian clan for far longer. I’ve seen far more than they could possibly imagine. Surely all that experience counts for something?”
“Of course it does,” Mary agreed. “But not everything. For example, do you have any experience negotiating with humans?”
“I…” Ostrian started. Then he stopped. Then he shook his head in disapproval. “I may not have experience directly with humans, but then, neither do they. However, I do have a lot of experience negotiating conflicts within the clan.”
Mary patted his arm. “Of course you do. And if you have any pieces of advice to give them, I’m sure they’re willing to listen. But they also have plenty of humans to listen to, who can give them advice specific to their race, so they may choose to take that over your advice,” she warned.
Ostrian didn’t look pleased with that idea. “How do we know we can trust these humans?” He seemed to have forgotten, for the moment, that he was speaking of her own species. “We don’t know them at all.”
“Well, I would hope that the dragons know their own mates,” Mary teased. “As for trust, it’s no different to trusting a dragon. Surely you have dragons with ulterior motives, whose advice it would be a bad idea to trust?”
Ostrian frowned, but he didn’t deny her accusation. “Well, I still think they should take me with them.”
Mary let go of his arm and put her hands on her hips. Apparently being subtle wasn’t getting through to him. “Why? So you can accuse the humans of being untrustworthy? Surely even you can see that’s a bad idea.”
Ostrian looked a little startled. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said immediately, but the protest was only half hearted. He heaved a sigh. “I might as well go back to my research. There’s nothing I can do to help here.”
Mary hesitated, torn. Going back to his research would probably help Ostrian in a lot of ways. It gave him a purpose, and an interest. But the bitterness wasn’t going to help. It would only colour his findings.
“I think that’s a great idea. Your clan really does need to know the information you’re finding out there. But I don’t think we want to go too far, just in case something goes wrong, and these youngsters do need a little advice.”
“They’re not going to listen to me, even if they do,” Ostrian said gloomily.
“Nonsense,” Mary said firmly. “They’re making this decision because of the information you’ve given them. That definitely fits the definition of listening to you.”
Ostrian did look a little mollified by that.
“I suppose I might be able to offer them some useful advice when they come back,” he admitted.
Mary hid a smile. There was hope for him yet.
Chapter 13
As Ostrian and Mary walked into the main cave, where most of the clan were gathered waiting to hear the results of the prince’s and princess’s conversation with the humans, there were some strange looks directed his way. But, the looks weren’t just for him, they were for him and Mary. For him being with a human.
Even if he wasn’t ‘with’ her in that way.
Ostrian wasn’t even quite sure how he coul
d describe what was going on with them. He wasn’t sure himself. Some of the urgency to mate with her had faded once there was some distance (and clothes) between them. It was still there, but it was controlled, manageable. He could resist it.
The trouble was, he didn’t want to. He couldn’t make himself say goodbye to her and walk away. He wanted her opinion and advice. He wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh. Even if they never mated again, he wanted her in his life.
Every time he thought about that, he alternated between exhilarated and terrified.
The way she made him feel was amazing, even when she was just supporting him, and patting his arm. But he knew that if she were around, if he became friends with her, as he wished to, then the temptation would always be there, simmering beneath the surface.
One day, in a weak moment, he would give in. That was the thought that scared him.
Voices rose in a small group a little distance from where Ostrian and Mary sat, enjoying a snack.
There was a mixture of groups, some family, some groups of youngsters. Some had brought their packed bags with them, not sure they weren’t going to have to evacuate, others seemed to just be hanging out, as though it were an ordinary day.
The group with the issue were mostly young dragons, a mixed group, male and female. Some had bags, some didn’t.
“I don’t think we should trust the humans, even if they do agree to let us stay,” a young male metal dragon said, his voice just a little too loud. “Why do we need anyone to ‘let’ us stay anyway? We’re dragons. We could destroy them. And the sooner they realise it, the better things will be for all dragons.”
“Shh, Porian,” a girl said, tugging on his arm. “Everyone will hear you.”
“I don’t care if they do hear me,” Porian said defiantly.
Ostrian turned back to his food, not interested in the dragon’s posturing. He was young, and impulsive. He’d learn with time.
