"My apologies, my lady. He forgets himself sometimes," Gregor said.
Jillian's gaze hadn't left Sebastian's. "No problem." She wore a slight frown.
Ella stood there for a moment before she turned around and fled the room.
"That was Ella," Sara said. She didn't miss the way Gregor's eyes followed her retreating form.
Carrie wore a smile so large it was almost embarrassing. Who knew someone could get that excited at potentially letting in a bunch of serial killers to their home?
"And this is Carrie," Sara said. Her friend bounded forward with an outstretched hand.
All the men stared at her like she was insane. Her smile wobbled, and her hand started to drop. Edvard reached out and took it. Instead of a formal handshake, he held it like a knight would hold a lady's hand. Sara could feel Carrie tamp down the urge to swoon.
They were all professional, put-together women, but as soon as they'd let these men in, they reverted to hormonal teenage girls.
"Right," Sara said, feeling the need to gain some control. "Follow me, and I'll show you where you can sit." She led them down a small hall and into a sprawling living room. A comfortable couch was the focal point of the room, but there were several comfortable lounge chairs scattered around. Ella loved to sprawl everywhere with a book, so she'd made sure to have as many comfortable oversized chairs as possible in the space. There was a beat-up antique coffee table, which had been the scene of many nights of board games and wine drinking, and a massive rug underneath all the furniture. Everything was done in shades of teal and cream colors, except for the wooden pieces. The dark mahogany of the wood was a good contrast to the lighter, more feminine appeal of the decor.
Daegal stopped abruptly at the entrance to the living room. He wore a perplexed expression as he looked around. When he spotted the kitchen, he took a few steps forward. "What is...all of this?" he asked with wonder.
Sara's brows knit together. "Excuse me?"
Daegal swept out an imperious hand. "This. All of this. Is this how modern people live now?"
Gregor laid a hand on Daegal's arm. "Progress," he murmured under his breath, though Sara caught it.
"It's how people live," she said. "Where did you say you were from?"
Daegal's gaze was still busy taking in everything. "I didn't," he said, his voice aloof.
Sara bristled. "Then how about you answer it now," she said, her tone cool.
Those ancient eyes met hers. Something flickered within them, and Sara felt heat low in her belly.
"Far from here," he answered after a moment when the silence had gone on too long to be comfortable.
"Scandinavia," said Gregor.
"Oh?" Jillian said. "Which part?"
Sebastian had wandered over to the window to look out at the sea, but when Jillian spoke, he turned back to watch her. "What part of what?" he asked her.
She gave him a puzzled look. "Denmark, Norway, or Sweden?"
Sebastian was about to open his mouth, but Daegal interrupted him.
"Norway," he said with finality.
Sara thought he was probably lying. Something about these guys didn't quite ring true. An unsettling thought occurred to her. These four men showed up not too long after that pod had disappeared into the ocean.
She studied Daegal and his companions. They seemed human. They spoke English, though they had an accent. But they were dressed weird, and they looked like they'd been traveling. All except for Gregor. He was the only one who didn't look like an aggrieved lumberjack. His chin was as smooth as a baby's bottom and his chest looked like he spent a lot of time in the salon getting waxed. Sara thought of her surfboard and the smooth surface she worked at to maintain. His chest reminded her of it.
There was no way these people were from the pod. To even think it was outrageous.
"Are you on vacation?" Sara asked. She motioned for everyone to sit down. All four of the men seemed like they'd rather stab the couch than sit on it, but after a moment, they began to make themselves comfortable.
Daegal repeated the word like he'd never heard of it. "No," he said. "Not vay cay shun." His phonetic pronunciation was adorable.
"Visiting family?" Sara asked as she continued to pry.
"Nay, woman," said Daegal. He sounded vexed.
Carrie let out a little laugh. She sat down right next to Edvard. He seemed uncomfortable at her close proximity and kept scooting away from her. She was having none of it, though.
Sebastian and Jillian, meanwhile, were locked in some weird epic battle of the stares. Neither one of them was blinking.
Sara shook her head and went into the kitchen. She could feel Daegal's eyes on her like a brand. Ignoring it, she rummaged through the refrigerator and began to pull items out.
Milk and eggs, first. Then she went to the pantry and gathered the vanilla, brown sugar, and the brioche she was trying to save for breakfast that weekend. But these were men. Big men. And big men loved breakfast. Snapping her fingers, she went back to the fridge and pulled out the parcel wrapped package of bacon she'd bought at the farmer's market the weekend prior.
Men also loved bacon.
If they were as hungry as they said they were, she would prepare a breakfast feast. Weirdos or not, she couldn't very well leave the men to starve. She bent down and grabbed a large bowl, a whisk, and all the other things she needed.
Daegal's attention was rapt on her. She could feel him studying her as she worked. When she clicked on the gas stove, he rose to his feet, alarm making his eyes widen.
"Relax," she said. "It's just gas." Who didn't know what gas was? Who were these men? The pod theory, as ludicrous as it was, seemed more and more likely.
Sara took the brioche loaf out of the bag and began to cut large slices of it. The bread was just going stale, perfect for French toast. When she'd finished that, she foiled a large baking pan, and set a rack on top of it. With deft hands, she laid out a king's feast of bacon and popped it into the oven. She set the temp and the timer and got back to making the batter for the main course.
With a deft hand, she cracked several eggs into a large bowl.
"She's making French toast," she heard Carrie say. "It's divine."
"Divinity is divine, woman. Not toast," Daegal said.
"You'll see," Jillian said, her voice cryptic.
Sara's eyes crinkled at the edges. Jillian was right. Her French toast was pretty epic.
She added milk, vanilla, and brown sugar to the egg mixture and whisked it all together. As an afterthought, she grabbed a container of heavy cream and added some into the mixture to give it a little more heft. Last, she added a splash of cinnamon and nutmeg and whisked that in as well.
When the bacon was almost done, Sara grabbed a wide, flat pan with thin edges and popped a tablespoon of unsalted butter on the pan.
Daegal's gaze continued to burn into her back. When she turned and made eye contact with him, she saw more curiosity than anything. "You're welcome to watch," Sara said.
Daegal's eyes widened in surprise. He stood and made his way over to her. "What is this?" he demanded in an imperious tone.
Sara rolled her eyes. "Your dinner, but if you keep demanding things, I'm going to feed Gregor first."
An iridescent sheen rolled over his eyes. Sara let out a startled gasp. Had she imagined that?
"You will feed me first, woman," he said quietly.
"Then be more polite," she admonished as she watched the butter sizzle in the pan. When it was ready, she battered both sides of the brioche and laid it on the hot surface. It sizzled right away, and the smell of brown sugar and cinnamon rose in the air.
Daegal blinked in surprise, even as he sniffed the air. "What sorcery is this?"
"It's French toast," Sara answered, even as she was weirded out by the question. "The best kind of sorcery." She hated to assume everyone knew about the most simple breakfast item, but they weren't from here. Sara shook off thoughts of the pod. It was just too insane to be real.
"Gregor?" Sara called sweetly, right after she doused the food with butter and maple syrup. "Would you like a plate?"
Daegal let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a growl and yanked the plate from her. She hid her smile and added another slice of French toast to the pan.
Men. It didn't matter where they were from. Food was food. When she flipped the piece over and turned back to watch Daegal eat, she startled. He held his plate out at arm's length right in front of her face. "More," he demanded.
A startled laugh escaped her. "Wait," she said. Sara reached down and took the sizzling bacon out of the oven. Daegal watched, fascinated, as she used a pair of tongs to take the hot strips off of the pan and slid them onto a plate. "What is this?" he asked.
"Bacon," Sara answered.
He let out a huff of frustration. "That word means nothing to me."
She piled several pieces onto his plate. "Just shut up and eat."
Daegal glared at her but obeyed.
There was always a moment when someone first tasted something delicious that was wonderful for another person to witness. The strange man seemed to lose himself as soon as the first bit of salty goodness hit his tongue. He shut his eyes slowly and began to chew in earnest. It was like everything in the room stopped for a moment.
When Daegal swallowed, his eyes opened. He pinned her with a stare. "Are you a witch?" he demanded.
Jillian cracked up from behind them. "The real sorcery here is bacon," she said.
Daegal shoved two more pieces into his mouth. When he went to reach for more, Sara slapped him with the bottom of the spatula. "No. Save some for everyone else."
Heat kindled in his gaze even as he snatched his hand away. "You dare strike the Dragon Prince?" he asked in quiet disbelief.
Sara rolled his eyes. Dragon Prince. Yeah, right. "No. But I do dare strike the person who's trying to steal all the bacon."
Daegal let out a grumpy sound and leaned against the counter. "Rise, fools, and gather sustenance here."
"You guys are so weird," Jillian announced as she bounded up and bum-rushed everyone in an effort to get to the food first.
Sara smacked her hand, too, and handed over the next plate to Gregor. He was sweet, and they didn't often meet a lot of sweet, handsome guys.
Gregor bowed deeply and took the plate from her like it was some kind of ceremonious offering. Sara noticed him staring in the direction Ella had gone after he'd filled his plate and settled himself at the too-small kitchen table. Too small for Gregor and the other enormous men, but perfect for four small women. He had to move the chair out from underneath the table because his legs were too long to sit comfortably. Sara swallowed a smile and turned back to the stove to finish making breakfast. Just as she was about to turn off the heat, all four of the men came back to her with their plates outstretched.
"More, please," Sebastian asked. There was a gleam in his eyes she didn't like, but she suspected he looked at everyone in that weird, intense, are we going to have sex right now kind of way.
Sara sighed, went to the pantry for another loaf of bread, and turned the stove back on.
Twenty minutes later, after she'd run out of bread, butter, and eggs, Sara meandered down the hall to get Ella. Commandeering a plate for her had turned into a real effort and involved some ninja moves and veiled threats to keep everyone else off of it.
She knocked on the door. Ella answered a moment later. She'd changed into a pair of yoga pants and a white tank top. Her long brown hair was up in a messy bun and she wore her black-framed reading glasses which only emphasized the blue-green of her eyes. She wore no makeup, but she didn't need it. Her complexion was perfect and lightly tanned. Sara thought Ella would probably stop traffic if she ever went so far as to wear mascara. She was drop dead gorgeous, but Ella was the kind of girl who didn't realize it. Other things were more important to her.
Sara held out the plate. "You looked a little uncomfortable earlier. I wanted to bring you this."
Ella reached out and took it. She peeked out the door. "All of those men." She shook her head and swallowed hard. "That's...a lot to take in."
Sara nodded and then handed over a fork. "Yeah, but so far it just seems like they're really hungry. They don't look harmless for sure, but I think we're safe from them." She rolled her eyes. "Daegal is a handful, though. Demanding and borderline delusional."
Ella frowned at her. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
Sara shrugged. "I guess we'll find out. They won't be here for that much longer." She studied her friend for a moment. Ella dug into her French toast with the zeal of a teenager after athletic practice. She had one real food weakness: bread. Any kind. Toast. Baked. Fried. She'd never met a piece of bread she didn't adore.
"You should come out," Sara continued.
Ella shook her head, almost violent with the gesture. "No. I'll bring my plate out once everyone is gone."
"Gregor seems interested," Sara said quietly.
Ella's aqua eyes widened. "That's even worse," she whispered. "I'll wait until tomorrow to come out then."
Sara snorted with laughter. "Don't dive so deep into your books that you forget to live, Ella."
Ella stared for a second. Then she politely shut the door in Sara's face.
Sara laughed out loud. That was Ella in a nutshell. Adorably awkward.
She wandered back into the living room and into the chaos of the four strangers.
4
Daegal
* * *
The woman made a meal like nobody's business. Daegal watched her, intense in his scrutiny. What was it about her that brought out his instincts? She was taller than he liked and more muscular than any woman he'd ever seen before. To tell the truth, all the women in this house were more muscular than they should be. At first, he didn't like it. Men were supposed to be the protectors, the strong ones. The ones to manage the hearth and home. But as he watched the women, his feelings flipped to the opposite side in a short time. They moved with incredible grace, especially Sara. The one with the hair of a morning sunset. Her arms were tightly muscled, but not obscenely so, and her legs were long, smooth, and muscled in such a way as to make his groin tighten every time she moved.
She should not be so attractive to him. He liked blonde, biddable women. Not women who ran their own homes and spoke down to him like he was some kind of peasant. He watched as she moved to the window and stared out at the sea.
Just then, a glow came over her. A warm, golden light was cast upon her. A light he recognized from his homeland.
His eyes widened, and his nostrils flared.
Mate.
This witch was his mate.
Gregor, sitting beside him, shook his head once. A sharp no. He could see it, too. "Say nothing right now," he warned telepathically. "You will spook all of them."
He turned a wild stare to his friend and brother-in-arms. "How can I not say anything?"
"Easy," Gregor said. "Keep your mouth shut."
Daegal glared at him but did not scream the words he wanted to. The glow only strengthened as he gazed upon her. What were the odds of him waking up all of these years later and landing in the time of his one true mate?
It all felt strangely convenient.
His thoughts wandered back to the voice he'd heard before he woke up. There was danger here. He could feel it. Right now, it didn't feel as threatening, but there was...something here. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He knew it had something to do with him. Otherwise, why would he be here?
Not only had he woken up; his companions had, too. This told him the threat had to do with dragon kind. But the humans on the beach looked at him like he had an addled brain when he'd mentioned dragons.
Strange.
Everything here was different, even the technology. Back in his homeland, they had great tech, but here, everything was so much more convenient. His mother had to get up each mo
rning and bake the bread they ate each day. She cooked dinner from scratch each night. There was no real shortcut to do things. Here, they had tools and contraptions to help make everything easier. It was strange and yet, he liked it.
His brothers-in-arms sat around the living room, their faces relaxed. For the most part. Gregor never looked relaxed. His hand rested on the pommel of his short sword, and his gaze never rested on one thing for more than a moment.
Except for that shy woman who'd disappeared. Gregor stared at her longer than Daegal ever saw him look at anything.
Interesting.
The woman, Jillian, and Sebastian were deep in conversation, but both of them looked angry. Sebastian's expression was a mix of annoyance and lust. Daegal was used to the lusty look, but he'd never seen it combined with such abject annoyance. Perhaps this woman was good for him. Sebastian's arrogance was legendary even in their own homeland. Temperance would be a good lesson for him to learn.
He didn't know what they were going to do when Sara made them leave. They had nowhere to go, and none of them were used to this new world. Gregor, with his smooth silver tongue and courtier manners, would probably fare better than the rest, but it didn't make them fit in. He knew as soon as he came out of the water and saw the new humans that there would be a steep learning curve here.
If only the humans could see he was here as their defender. It was easier said than done. Both of the times he'd mentioned dragons, the humans had insulted him.
He'd protected the world before, at great cost to him and his companions. Before his great sleep, Daegal was locked in a great battle with Ludovic, a dragon once of his clan. He'd once thought of the man as his friend, but when he took steps seen by many as a step toward dictatorship, Daegal confronted him. Ludovic proclaimed that water dragons were the superior species and humans should bow to them.
Daegal accused him of throwing away his nobility and using his powers for evil. He tried to explain to him that humans were their equals, never their slaves, but Ludovic refused to listen.
The memories of it never failed to sadden him. Two other dragons from his clan, Rolf and Aksel, joined Ludovic's cause. Even after Daegal's protests, the three went forward to make war with the humans.
The Alpha Dragon's Secret (Dragon Shifters of Kahului Book 1) Page 3
