by Lora Edwards
The time had come for them to return to the present. Duke Harrison was secured magically and physically at the institute in that time, and would remain there for the rest of his long life.
Teagan looked down at her finger, the faint dragon tattoo still wrapped around it. Teagan and Bran had not had an opportunity to talk about the significance of their matching dragons or their feelings for each other, but there would be time now that work was not in the way.
“Hey Teag, you ready,” Ovidia inquired as she strode into the room.
“Very much so,” Teagan responded, grabbing her bag and following Ovidia out of the room.
Bran met them in the study. “I thought it would be fitting to end our adventure here where we had so many meetings about the case.” He smiled at both women.
“It does seem fitting,” Teagan replied.
“Works for me. I just want to get back to my shoes and my wardrobe. Can someone say mojito?” Ovidia asked.
Teagan laughed as they all held hands and thought about the institute in their own time.
She knew they were back when she felt the cool touch of air from the air conditioner slide over her skin.
Opening her eyes, she looked around at the room. Had she really spent the past few months in Victorian, England? Everything looked the same, and she looked the same, but inside she had changed so much.
“Teag, mojitos later,” Ovidia asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Count me in.” Teagan smiled at her friend, watching as she walked away. She had learned much about Ovidia on the trip as well.
Teagan turned to Bran, an uncertain look on her face. Was their one night together going to be their only night?
“Teagan, we need to talk. How does your place in an hour sound,” Bran asked, a serious look on his face.
“That will be fine,” she said then turned and walked out of the room.
Returning to her apartment, Teagan smiled. It really did feel like home. The surfaces shined, evidence of a recent buffing, and she could smell a hint of lemon furniture polish in the air.
Walking into the bedroom, she set her bag down on the floor of the closet. Looking around, Teagan laughed out loud. There on the shelf were two new pairs of Lula Roe butter leggings, and she was sure a few other items had been snuck in there as well.
Shaking her head at her mother, Teagan’s stomach growled. In all the excitement, she had not had time to eat. She made her way to her blessedly modern kitchen, and sitting on her shiny granite counter was a plate of her favorite cookies—homemade chocolate chip. Next to it was a note.
Welcome home!
There are some nibbles in the fridge. Text if you would like dinner, otherwise see you tomorrow morning. I want a complete rundown of your adventures.
Fiona
Teagan smiled. Fiona was becoming someone important to her just in the few weeks she had been there, and she could see herself living and working there permanently. Teagan found herself torn, she would miss her friends, and her work at Duke. The Dean had been so generous letting her teach the courses that she had asked for, and giving her the sabbatical on such short notice. It would be hard but her heart was with the institute. She knew deep down this was the work she was meant to do. The fieldwork was exciting but she would have to inquire if she could work in a research capacity—fieldwork was not something she wanted to do regularly, though the occasional mission might work out for her.
Teagan moved to the fridge and pulled out a tray with a selection of cheeses and meats. There was a bottle of wine with a note that said, drink me with the nibbles; she pulled that out as well and poured herself a glass.
Taking her snack to the parlor, she waved her hand at the fireplace to start up a crackling fire then sank into one of the upholstered armchairs. Teagan took a deep breath, sat back, and closed her eyes, soaking in the feeling of being home.
A knock sounded at the door, startling her; she realized she must have dozed off. She had meant to shower before Bran came, but it was too late now. She walked over to the door and opened it; Bran stood in her doorway with a serious expression on his face.
“Come in, I was just having a glass of wine and some snacks. Would you like some,” Teagan asked, a cold shiver of warning crawling up her spine. Something told her she was not going to like this conversation.
“No, I think I’m good.”
Teagan nodded and escorted him into her parlor, motioning to the chair opposite hers.
“Teagan, look, I owe you an explanation for some things. That symbol on your finger, the way we can communicate telepathically…it is not a dragon trait necessarily.”
“You mean all dragons cannot do those things,” Teagan asked.
“No, we all can,” Bran said as he stood pacing behind the chairs, running his hands through his hair. “I didn’t want this…I’m not ready for this,” he said, looking at her again.
“Don’t want what, Bran? Not ready for what,” Teagan asked, a slight tremor entering her voice.
“That symbol on your finger means you are meant for me, that you are my dragon mate. All dragons have one mate, and it is not always another dragon. Some dragons never find their mate. They marry sometimes, but we are not really whole until we find our mate.”
“How did you know I was yours? This symbol did not appear when we first met, didn’t appear until I was kidnapped.” Teagan turned in her chair, watching him pace.
“But I knew when we first met. I felt it, right here.” He pointed to his chest. “It was why I was so unwelcoming to you at first. I’m not ready for this kind of commitment.” He continued to pace, grinding his right fist into his left hand.
“Okay, then why did this symbol appear all of a sudden,” she asked, holding up her left hand.
“When you had been kidnapped, I was beside myself. I pledged myself to you, acknowledged you as my soul mate so we could communicate. Until we have a claiming ceremony, the symbol will appear faded on your finger.”
“What happens after the claiming ceremony,” she asked.
“If there was one, it would be like a marriage ceremony for humans. We would be a mated couple. I would be able to read your thoughts, and I would know what you were feeling. I would be able to find you no matter where you were.”
“I don’t want someone reading my thoughts all the time,” Teagan responded calmly.
“You would be taught to block me—it would be distracting for both of us to have two sets of thoughts running through our heads all the time. Teagan, I am not ready for a commitment ceremony. I was not looking for a mate, or even a relationship, it was just something that happened,” Bran said in a rush. “I care for you—it cannot be helped, it is the nature of the bond—but I am not ready to settle down just yet.”
“I see. Is there a way for me to reject this bond,” Teagan asked, looking down at the dragon on her finger.
“Yes, you can renounce it, and the mark will disappear,” Bran ground out.
“What happens to you,” Teagan asked.
“Dragons mate for life. I could have relationships with other women, even marry, but I would never be able to soul bond with another.” He looked down at his feet.
“And if I reject the bond, is it permanent,” Teagan asked quietly.
“Yes.”
Silence filled the room as Teagan stood and started pacing as well.
“Is that what you want Bran? Do you want me to refuse the bond,” Teagan asked, tears welling up in her eyes, making her furious as her voice trembled with emotion.
“Yes—no…I don’t know. Teagan, are you ready for this? A lifelong commitment?” Bran practically shouted at her.
“I shouldn’t tell you this because I believe you will just use it against me, but yes. I am in love with you Bran. I think I have always been waiting for you. As a child, I was fascinated by dragons, read books, collected trinkets. I loved them. I think that was partly me waiting for you. I love you, but I want what is best for you. If you want me to reject the bond,
that is what I will do. Just tell me how it is done and I will do it.” She stopped, facing him, her heart in her eyes.
Bran stared at her, frustration on his face. Without a word, he turned and walked out, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Teagan crumpled to the ground, her sobs reflecting the anguish she felt as her heart broke in two.
Chapter 22
Teagan picked herself up, rubbed her hands over her face, picked up her phone, and texted Ovidia: Mojitos, what time and where? Then she put the phone down with a decisive click. He didn’t want a commitment, and that was fine with her—there were plenty more fish in the sea.
Teagan took a shower and then chose one of the LBDs from her closet, putting on her siren red shoes with the dragon heels—that way she could stomp on him all night. She brushed her hair until it shone, put on a swipe of gloss, and looked at herself in the mirror. No one would ever accuse her of being a knockout, but she did clean up well.
Grabbing her evening bag from the top of the closet and placing the necessities inside, she walked to the door of her suite enjoying the thought of stomping on the dragons the entire way. Shutting the door she strode next door knocking on Ovidia’s door.
It swung open a few seconds later and Ovidia’s cheerful face popped out. “I think my shoes missed me! I finally decided on which pair to wear and I swear the others are in there pouting.”
Teagan laughed. Leave it to Ovidia to cheer her up without even trying.
“Let’s get a move on girl, those mojitos are not going to drink themselves,” Ovidia declared.
She was dressed the opposite of Teagan in a tight red dress with killer black heels, and when she glanced up and down at Teagan’s outfit, she commented, “Almost twins tonight!” She laughed as she hooked her arm through Teagan’s, and they walked out of the building into a waiting car.
“Okay spill,” Ovidia said as soon as they were seated in their booth at the bar with drinks in front of them. “I saw that Bran marked you—did he talk to you about that,” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
“Yes, yes he did. He gave me the dragon version of the player speech—you know, ‘I’m not ready for a commitment,’ blah, blah, blah—and I was stupid enough to tell him I loved him,” Teagan said, trying to disguise her hurt by lowering her eyes and taking a sip of her drink.
“That rat bastard!” Ovidia exclaimed. “Does he want you to do the rejection ceremony?”
“I don’t know. I asked him if that is what he wants, and he just walked out of my place, no answer.” Teagan twirled her drink around by its stem.
Ovidia took another sip. “So, he didn’t answer…curious.”
“He did say he doesn’t want any commitment and isn’t ready for that…I think that answers the question itself, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Ovidia said cryptically. “Okay, enough about the rat bastard. Let’s down these drinks, get some food, and then I want to dance!”
Teagan tried to smile. Maybe a night of fun was what she needed. She would find some hot guy on the dance floor and engage in some harmless flirting, and then in the morning she would pick herself up and move on. She would talk to Armand about a research position and if that was not open, she would go back to Duke; she loved teaching.
Teagan grinned at Ovidia. “Let’s do it girl.”
A delicious meal and a few mojitos later, the girls were rocking out on the dance floor, and Teagan was starting to feel much better. She didn’t know if it was the dancing or the mojitos, but she had entered an I don’t care, screw Bran state of mind.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a cute guy giving her the eye, so she turned and winked at him. She giggled to herself; that was so out of character for her. She was usually shy and reserved, but it was as if something in her had broken, making her feel reckless. It’s probably the mojitos, she thought to herself as the guy walked over, smiling.
“Wanna dance,” he asked, shouting to be heard over the music.
Teagan shouted back a yes and tapped Ovidia on the shoulder to indicate that she was going to dance with him. Ovidia gave her two thumbs up before going back to her own dance partner.
Teagan started to dance, trying to have as much of a conversation as was possible on a crowded, loud dance floor. She laughed at something he said then suddenly he was no longer there.
In his place stood a very angry Bran.
“What are you doing,” Teagan asked, her hands on her hips. “And where is my dance partner?”
“He’s sitting this one out, and you are coming with me,” Bran said as he grabbed her hand. He pulled her off the dance floor and out of the bar.
Teagan dug her heels into the pavement. He would either stop or he would have to drag her down the street. “What do you think you’re doing,” she demanded of him. “You had no right to do that! You made it perfectly clear that you do not want a commitment, so why are you now dragging me out of a bar like a caveman?”
“Not like a caveman, Princess, like a dragon. I couldn’t stand seeing you with someone else,” he practically shouted at her.
“Did you change your mind then? Did you decide you want a relationship with me,” Teagan asked, fire in her eyes.
Bran stood there, hands in his pockets, not saying a word.
“Go to hell Bran,” Teagan shouted, stalking off toward the institute.
Pulling out her phone, Teagan shot off a quick text to Ovidia to tell her she was going back to her apartment and that she would explain later.
She made it home and behind the door before she slid to the floor and wept.
Chapter 23
Teagan woke the next morning to sunshine pouring into her window, momentarily confused by her surroundings. Sitting up in her bed, everything came flooding back: she was back at her apartment in the institute. She thought about Bran’s I don’t want you but nobody else can have you attitude toward her and unconsciously rubbed the dragon on her finger. Shaking her head as if to clear it, she threw the covers off and stomped angrily to the bathroom, wrenching the shower on and stepping in. Men were just stupid—well, not all men, just men named Bran Dragos. She would go see Armand about a permanent position. Next, she would go visit her grandfather, and she would not give Bran one more minute of her time.
Teagan finished her shower and dressed simply in a navy pencil skirt, a cream-colored blouse, the pearls her parents had given her for her sixteenth birthday, and a navy cardigan. She swept up her cinnamon curls, smoothing them into a neat French twist.
She picked up her phone and dialed the director’s office, pleased to hear he had an opening if she was willing to come in right away. She texted Fiona to tell her their gossip session would have to be rescheduled for dinner and set out to meet with the head of the institute.
Teagan walked in, head held high, expecting a fight with his dragon of an admin—she was a literal dragon as well as a figurative one.
Cleo barely looked up and waved her into the inner office.
Teagan walked out again with a research job, a large increase in pay, and her apartment as a perk. She waved at Cleo, who did not return the gesture, making Teagan smile and shake her head as she walked out.
She made her way to the library to give her grandfather the good news, and she walked in to see her parents having tea with him.
“What a great surprise,” Teagan said as she entered. “Three of my favorite people all in the same place.”
“Sweetie, how was your trip,” her mother asked, as if she had been on some fabulous spa vacation.
“It was good Mom, I learned a lot,” Teagan responded.
“Girlie, it is good to see you came back in one piece.” Her grandfather winked at her from across the table.
Her father gave her a quick hug. “It is good to see you Teagan.” A man of few words, as always.
Teagan sat at the table across from her parents, and Llewelyn appeared at her elbow with a steaming cup of her favorite tea.
“Thank you, Llewelyn,
” she said, smiling up at him.
Her parents and grandfather immediately started peppering her with questions about the mission, and Teagan filled them in on her adventures in Victorian London, leaving out her relationship with Bran.
“I have something I think you would be interested in my girl” her grandfather said and reached behind him pulling out a magazine.
Teagan looked at him curiously and then down at the page he had opened it to. It was an article about a famous author who was doing a book on research she had done on the ripper murders, and her evidence for a suspect. She believed it to be Walker Sickert which made Teagan smile. The article went on to discuss how she believed that there had been a male victim of the ripper one Montague Druitt. When asked why she was so fascinated by the ripper murders the author explained that an ancestor of hers Duke Somerton had fallen in love with and married an east end prostitute named Mary Kelly. Mary Kelly had known some of the ripper victims and the author theorized if she had not fallen in love with Duke Somerton she may well have been a ripper victim. Instead she lived a long and happy life, with a loving husband and went on to have 5 children. A picture of the happy couple accompanied the article and Teagan smiled. The woman from the drawings in the study, that had tugged at her so smiled out of the picture.
Teagan looked up from the article and smiled at her grandpa “Thank you I needed that.”
Hugh just smiled back at her.
Teagan turned back to her parents “Sorry just a final wrap-up of the case.”
Her mother smiled and patted her hand.“ Teagan, your father and I would like you to come on a trip with us for a few days. We would like to reintroduce you to your father’s home,” Teagan’s mother said casually, as if a person got an invitation to a different world every day.
“You mean to Faery?” Teagan’s voice betrayed her excitement.
Her father chuckled. “Yes Teagan, to Faery.”
