by Chris Cannon
“Jaxon already gave us a report of what happened at Valmont’s cabin and down in the root cellar,” her grandfather said. “Bryn, we’d like you to retell the story, leaving nothing out.”
“Okay.” Bryn launched into the tale of the drive to the cabin, her conversation with Onyx, the disturbing effects of the antidote, and the part about Jaxon guaranteeing Onyx’s safety. She said nothing about her mother. “Will you honor Jaxon’s promise?” Honestly, she wasn’t sure he would.
“I don’t approve that he gave his word as a Westgate to keep a traitor safe, but I will honor his agreement for now. However, there was no time frame stipulated.” Her grandfather smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile. More like an I’ll-get-my-way-in-the-end kind of smile.
Jaxon cleared his throat. “Will you meet with Throwbacks and hybrids who want to live peacefully?”
“It’s not that simple,” Ferrin said. “There’s no real way to determine who is with us and who is against us.”
There he went, sounding like a crazy dictator again. Bryn clamped her lips shut to keep from addressing him as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
“What if there was some sort of trial period where hybrids could come forward and apply to live on the deeded land,” Jaxon suggested. “As long as they are peaceful, they’ll be treated with respect.”
That sounded like the American Indian Reservations where the natives were intentionally given smallpox. What were their other options? How would they know who to trust? “There is really no good way to do this, is there?” Bryn addressed her grandfather.
“As disillusioning as that realization is, I’m glad you’ve come to it,” her grandfather said. “The Directorate has worked for centuries to keep the peace—by force and law.”
“You can’t tell a person is bad until they do something bad,” Valmont said. “Can’t you just up the security and keep a watch out for anything suspicious?”
“Why not open the Institute as a sanctuary?” Bryn said. “The Orange Dorm is almost empty. Anyone who wishes to live peacefully could move in.”
“Brilliant idea.” Ferrin leaned forward. “Invite the enemy to move in with our most valuable resource.”
“Must you always be so combative?” Bryn asked.
“It’s his way,” Jaxon said. “And moving possible Rebels into the campus would give them access to way too much information. Besides, they have the deed to twenty acres and a small abandoned town on the other side of the forest. Anyone will be free to move there. They can set up their own schools and live their lives how they want.”
And now they’d entered the Separate But Equal time period. Maybe humans and dragons weren’t so different after all. “Giving them their own town is great, but you can’t exclude them from other places like they aren’t good enough to sit on the bus.”
Jaxon wrinkled his brow at her. “What are you talking about?”
History wasn’t her strong suit, but come on. “Rosa Parks…the black woman who refused to give up her seat on the bus to a white person…ring a bell?”
“Human history isn’t emphasized in the curriculum,” her grandfather said. “Although I do recognize and appreciate the comparison, I’d be lying if I said I thought hybrids were on equal footing with the Clans. The Directorate actively works to keep certain traits from coming to light while the hybrid’s genetics are random.”
Had she just been insulted? “So I’m random?”
“Yes,” her grandfather said. “But the combination of your genes didn’t breed a problem.”
Ferrin snorted and muttered something under his breath.
Asshat. Bryn leaned forward. “So you know, at this point, I’d marry Jaxon just to spite you.”
Her grandmother chuckled. Neither Ferrin nor Jaxon seemed to think it was funny, and the irritation flowing off of Valmont was palpable like a fog.
Her grandfather cleared his throat. “Personal matters aside, we are treading in uncharted territory. The Directorate has assigned a contingent of guards to keep track of Onyx and his movements. We will take note of who moves onto the deeded land. If they appear to be preparing for a war or speaking against us, we will take action against them.”
After all this talk, wait-and-see seemed to be the decree of the day. Bryn yawned, and then stressed about the fact that she yawned. “How do I know this is regular tired and not some weird go-to-sleep-and-forget-everything kind of tired?”
“I guess we’ll know when you wake up,” her grandmother said. “And don’t worry about attending classes tomorrow. I think you need one more day of rest.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Bryn said. “And I was hoping I could talk to both of you privately before I went to sleep. Maybe you could come back to my room for a few minutes?”
“I’ll go with you,” her grandmother said. “I’m sure your grandfather has a few things he needs to take care of.”
“I do. Your grandmother can fill me in later if there is anything I need to know.”
Oh, he’s going to want to know this. “Okay.” Bryn headed to her dorm room with Valmont and her grandmother.
They’d barely shut the door, when Bryn said. “Mom’s alive. I saw her tonight.”
Her grandmother’s expression froze. “What do you mean?”
That was not the response she expected.
“Onyx had warned mom the Rebels might come after her and dad. They figured out a package was a bomb, and they barely escaped. My dad was injured. He can’t fly anymore, but Mom said Onyx has given them a place to stay.”
“She’s in league with Onyx?” her grandmother’s tone was sharp enough to cut a diamond.
“No.” That was not the takeaway from this information. She tried again. “Onyx speaks for the peaceful hybrids and Throwbacks. He didn’t poison me. Some of his associates put the herbal stuff on Valmont’s sword. Onyx helped us by giving me the cure and by telling me my mom’s alive. He wants peace. It’s the Rebels in the forest that are trying to hurt people.”
Her grandmother sat at the library table. “Did your mother say anything else?”
“She’s sorry about letting us think she was dead. She said to tell you she loves you.”
Her grandmother sat there, staring off into space. “Did you ask her to come back with you?”
“I did.”
“Why did she refuse?”
The way her grandmother phrased the question, Bryn knew this was a pivotal moment. The why had to be important, it had to show honor and loyalty. And the answer shouldn’t be anything to do with her dad, so Bryn improvised. “If she’s still a target, she’d be putting us in danger, and she didn’t want that.”
Her grandmother’s stiff posture relaxed. “I can’t believe…I almost don’t want to believe it’s true.”
“Why not?”
“Because none of us are safe. And I’ve already grieved my daughter twice. I cannot do it again.”
“Should I not have told you?” Bryn sat next to her grandmother at the table.
“No. You should have, but I’m not sure I should tell Ephram. He’s furious at Onyx and associating your mother with him in any way would be a bad idea.”
She sort of understood. “You can tell him when you think the time is right,” Bryn said.
Chapter Fifteen
Valmont was quiet as she hugged her grandmother and said good-bye. It had been a craptastic day, but she thought she knew what was keeping him so silent. He was probably ticked off about what she’d said earlier about marrying Jaxon. The funny part was, she’d sort of meant it. At this point, she’d marry Jaxon, if for no other reason than to make Ferrin miserable. She could imagine explaining her marriage to someone. “Did you marry for love?” “Oh, no. I married for spite.” God, her life was bizarre.
Time to hash this out. She pointed at the couch. “Sit with me for a minute so we can talk?”
“Sure.” Valmont plopped down on the couch and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I wanted to mak
e sure you realized when I talked about marrying Jaxon, I meant a business partnership, not an actual marriage.”
Valmont pressed his lips together and nodded. “Got it. But I still hate it. And it worries me that you’re acting like you’re okay with it. Before, you were repulsed by the idea, and now you talk about it like you’re planning a trip to the grocery store…like it’s no big deal.”
Why had she thought this conversation would be easy? “You’re right. The idea of being betrothed to Jaxon used to make me want to run screaming from the room. Now it seems inevitable—like writing a term paper or taking a test. I’m not happy about it, but I realize it might be necessary.”
Valmont didn’t seem appeased, and she didn’t have it in her to continue this conversation. “I think we’ve both been thoroughly traumatized by the events of the past couple of days. I don’t remember everything that happened—“
“I do.” Valmont said. “I remember every single detail. I watched you pass out and wake up six times. Six.” He rammed his hand back through his hair. “Every time you blacked out, all I thought was what if this was the time you didn’t wake up? What if you died? And every time you woke up, I was so grateful because I can’t imagine living my life without you.”
Oh, hell. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about all those other times and how hard that must’ve been on you. Then I joked about marrying someone else right in front of you, which makes me a nominee for the most insensitive person of the year award.”
Valmont opened his arms. “Come here.”
She scooted over and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around him. She leaned into him so her face was against the crook of his neck. “Did I mention that I’m sorry?”
He hugged her tight. “Since you’ve been the victim of an elaborate being-held-hostage-without-actually-being-held-hostage scheme, and you’ve just discovered your parents are alive, I guess I can cut you some slack.”
“Thank you.” She moved so her mouth lined up with his and then she kissed him. As tired as she was right now, there was no place she’d rather be than in his arms. The rest of the world faded away as heat pulsed between them. Whether it was from the bond or the love she felt for him or both, she didn’t care. What they had was good and right, and no stupid fake marriage could take that away.
…
The dreaded piano music worked its way into Bryn’s dreams. The music became louder and more discordant as it continued, and for the first time she didn’t mind because she remembered everything that happened the day before, which meant the cure Onyx had given her actually worked. And her parents were alive. She wanted to shout that from the rooftop.
She untangled herself from Valmont’s arms and legs and went first to her room to smack off the alarm and then to Valmont’s. By the time she made it back to the living room, he was sitting up rubbing his eyes.
“I don’t even know what day it is,” he muttered.
“You’re asking the wrong girl,” Bryn said. “I slept through several.”
Valmont yawned. “Friday…I think it’s Friday.”
“Thank God I don’t have to go to class.” She rejoined him on the couch. “I say we sleep as long as possible.”
“No argument there.” He settled back onto the couch, and she curled up against him, using his chest as a pillow. For the moment, everything felt right in her world. She didn’t expect it to stay that way for long, but she was learning to appreciate the little things while they lasted.
Too soon, Valmont was rubbing her shoulder. “Bryn, we should probably wake up. I think we missed lunch.”
Fuzzy headed, Bryn sat up and tried to process that information. “I slept through lunch?”
“I think the pizza you had before bed last night counted as breakfast, but you probably need to be fed.” Valmont stood. “I’m going to shower and then we’ll talk about food.”
“Okay.” Her stomach growled. How had she slept through two meals? That evil herbal potion had kicked her butt.
After a quick shower, Bryn threw on jeans and a T-shirt. As far as she was concerned, if she was excused from classes, there was no reason to observe the stupid dress code.
Valmont pointed at her outfit. “Did you know your shirt is on inside out?”
Bryn looked down. Sure enough, he was right. “Crap. Hold on.” She went into the bedroom and pulled her shirt off, flipped it right side out, and put it back on. Back in the living room, she said, “If anyone asks why we’re not observing the dress code, we can say we thought it was Saturday.”
“Works for me.” He checked his watch. “The cafe downstairs should be empty since everyone will still be in class for two more hours.”
“Good. Then no one will see how much I eat.” Now that she was fully awake, her stomach was protesting the lack of regular meals.
The waiter in the restaurant seemed surprised when Bryn ordered three entrees, but he didn’t comment.
Valmont sat back and watched her finish off her third helping of Chicken Cordon Bleu while he drank his second cup of coffee. “I’m hoping if I caffeinate myself I can stay awake and go to bed at a reasonable time.”
Bryn yawned. “I know exactly what you mean. I swear I could go right back up to the room and fall asleep, but I don’t want to. It feels like I’ve missed too much already.”
“Clint and Ivy will make sure you’re awake and don’t miss out on dinner.”
“I probably should have called them last night.” Bryn took one last bite of food and then pushed her plate away. She wasn’t hungry anymore, but she wasn’t full of energy, either. “Would it be wrong if I went back to sleep?”
“You can go to bed,” Valmont said. “I think I’m going to call my family. The restaurant should be slow right now.”
“Okay.”
Bryn lay in bed, listening to Valmont’s end of the conversation. It’s not like she was eavesdropping on purpose. Not really. But he was sitting on the couch, which backed up to her bedroom wall. While she couldn’t decipher all his words, he laughed often, which made her feel better about taking over his life.
Still she couldn’t drift off to sleep. Lillith’s words from a few days before wriggled around in her brain. Bryn never would have guessed Lillith would be the one to try and call them out on their relationship. And the fact that she’d suggested he start seeing Megan irritated the living hell out of her. Lillith put up with a loveless marriage to Ferrin. How could she want the same thing for her son? At this point, Bryn respected Jaxon and appreciated his intelligence and fierce determination, but that didn’t mean she wanted to kiss him.
“Megan? Oh, hello, how are you?”
Bryn sat up. Why was Valmont talking to Megan on the phone? Weird.
And now he was laughing.
Why would Valmont’s family put Megan on the phone when he called? She’d bet her grandparent’s fortune that his grandmother was the one who suggested it. Evil, scheming, terrible-licorice-flavored-cookie-baking woman.
Fire stirred in Bryn’s gut. There was no reason to be upset. Megan was just a cute girl with a crush on Valmont. One of many, Bryn assumed. The waitress wasn’t anyone special to him. Not yet, at least.
The type of bond Bryn shared with Valmont, no other female could ever share with him. She was his dragon. Human females couldn’t compete with their connection. Right?
“You know you’ll have to break the bond when we’re married,” Jaxon said.
Bryn blinked. When had Jaxon come into her room? And why in the hell was he standing there wearing nothing but navy boxer shorts decorated with glittery silver W’s that twinkled like a disco ball?
This could not be real. Nope. She had to be dreaming.
She slammed her eyelids closed and rubbed her eyes. Not real. Had to be a dream. She opened her eyes and Jaxon stood in front of her dresser staring into the mirror and flexing his biceps. “I’ve been thinking about growing my hair longer, so I could wear one of those man-buns. Do you think that would be a good look for me?”
>
Okay. She really needed to wake up now.
A knock on the door had her sitting upright with her heart beating like crazy. “Hello?”
The door opened and Ivy popped her head in. “Sorry to wake you, but it’s time for dinner.”
“I’ve never been so glad to be awake in my life. I just had the weirdest dream.”
Ivy laughed and entered the room. Bryn did a double take. Ivy was wearing black pants and a white shirt with a W embroidered on the front pocket. And she was pushing a cart full of food.
“Women in your condition do have the strangest dreams, Mrs. Westgate.”
“My condition?” Bryn threw off the covers and looked down at her legs, what she could see of them, the part that wasn’t obscured by her very large, very pregnant belly which sported its own sparkling silver W. “Oh, hell no.”
“Sorry,” Ivy said. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Ma’am.”
“What? No, you aren’t the problem. It’s this stupid dream.” She really needed to wake up. Closing her eyes, she focused on feeling the pillow underneath her head or the sensation of the sheet draped over her body. She was in bed, in her dorm room. And she was going to wake up. Now. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Valmont stood next to her bed, concern etched on his forehead. “Bryn, are you all right?”
“That depends, am I awake?”
“I hope so. You were tossing and turning when I came in. I had to shake you to wake you up.”
“I was having the most bizarre dreams,” Bryn sat up and touched her stomach, which was in its normal, not-possibly-knocked-up-with-Jaxon’s-child state, thank goodness.
“Ivy called. They wanted to make sure you were coming down to dinner. I told them we’d meet them in half an hour.”
“Good.”
“What were you dreaming about?” Valmont asked.
No way would she tell him about Jaxon in his twinkling disco ball boxer briefs. “It was a bunch of weird stuff thrown together. I knew it was a dream, but I couldn’t wake up. Jaxon asked me if he should grow his hair out and wear a man bun.”
