My quarters were homey and mine because of Devlin and not just his presence. He helped me make it that way, encouraged me even. Supported me in my crazy notions without pushing me to come back to the royal decor that was the rest of the living quarters. He was giving you what you need.
My knock echoed through the hallway, and without even asking who it was, Brenton had the door open. “You’re not Aiden.”
“Nice to see you too, brother.” I walked past him and into the room.
“He’s bringing muffins.” Brenton shut the door and joined me in his sitting area. “He owes me muffins.”
I plopped on the couch, not even caring what that was about. I had enough in my head and on my shoulders already without bringing a drama llama into the room for some noshing. “Good. I haven’t eaten.”
“I hate to be rude, but why are you here all... I don’t know... like someone drowned your goldfish.” My brother sat across from me, his eyes on the door. What were they, magical muffins?
“You know that goldfish live in water, right?” They couldn’t drown, could they? Did it matter?
“Kicked your puppy?” he offered up as an alternative.
“Whatever.” I let out a long breath. “I just... are there rules on who we have to mate?”
“I think our fathers will be pleased if the suitors don’t live in their parents’ basement, contemplating about getting a job one day, if that’s what you mean.”
“No. I mean for this whole must-be-mated thing.” I tried to think of the name of the kingdom brought down in flames after the prince mated a farmer. It was so close and yet—nothing. “Like in history class. The Kingdom of... Fa… Falafel?”
I didn’t need his belly laughs to tell me I was wrong, but it took away all doubt. “Fallabella. The Kingdom of Fallabella, not of yummy delicious goodness.”
“You don’t need to be a jerk.” I pushed myself to get up and he held up a hand to stop me.
“Sit, brother. I’m sorry.” I stayed put, still needing his advice. If I’d known he was going to be an ass, I’d have just gone to Aiden... who would also be an ass. It was a lose-lose scenario.
“The Kingdom of Fallabella fell only partly because of the mating and none of it because of the whole following-true-love nonsense of our textbooks. Their king was a fool. He promised his son to another, and when that was no longer possible due to his son’s mating with the farmer, the suitor’s family in question went to all-out war and won.”
“Sounds like it was the prince’s fault.” Like it would be my fault if Devlin lost everything because of me.
“It would have been if his father, the king, had told him about the arrangement.”
“Our father wouldn’t do that,” I insisted. Not only would he not promise our hands without our permission, but he was also a peaceful ruler, one of the many reasons he was so beloved.
“Nor would they give a crap who we mated as long as they weren’t horrible people. I bet they would even let us mate a human.” He was probably right on the human part. They were adamant that we not treat the people in our kingdom any differently whether they had wings and fire or only skin and legs.
“Which brings me to my question...” He got that mischievous look in his eye that I had a patent on. “Who does my brother have an eye on? By your question, I’m thinking a villager.” Brenton tapped his chin. “Is it Liana at the pub? No... no... I know. It’s Marc from the candy shop. You always had a sweet tooth.”
“It is... wait for it… hy-po-the-tic-al!” I over-enunciated each syllable. “I just need to figure things out before my first heat.” I was lying my ass off and he was going to see through me. I turned to my old friend, operation deflect.
“The way you said Marc... were you... were you jealous when you thought I might have my eyes on him?” I made kissy sounds. “If you mate him, I expect chocolates on my birthday and Christmas and all the little holidays in between, even Village Days.”
“Village Days? That’s not even a holiday. It’s a sales gimmick.”
“It is Marc.” I’d been deflecting, but he hadn’t denied it.
“No, dumbhead. It’s not Marc. It’s nobody.” His face turned sorrowful for a half a second before he schooled himself. “I just…”
“Whatevs.” I stood up, and this time he didn’t try to stop me, instead standing up as well. “I need to go. Unlike someone else in this room, I don’t have breakfast being delivered.”
I closed the distance between us and gave him a hug. “Thanks, brother.”
“Anytime, and Chance?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t settle. Father doesn’t want that for us. I’d bet on it.” He might not, but even if I didn’t have the person I wanted so close to me that I could and had literally tasted him, I wouldn’t let him down. Father would lose his place in the kingdom if I decided to just stay a bachelor or whatever. Montipan was lucky to have him, and I would not be the one to destroy that.
I stepped out, and sure enough, there was Devlin, eating a muffin with my brother Aiden. “Hey, aren’t those for Brenton?” I asked as I held my hand out for one.
“Yeah.” He handed me a bumbleberry muffin, my favorite. “He’s probably gonna be mad, so you two might as well scram.” He winked and stepped up to my brother’s door.
“Did he tell you what the muffins were about?” I asked Devlin as we started automatically walking in step.
“Nope. But he was all too happy to give them to anyone that passed by.” It was official... I needed to know that story.
We walked in silence until we rounded the corner to our quarters. “That was not the best way to leave this morning,” he said carefully.
I looked at him, afraid that if I opened my mouth, I’d shout, “Like when you left last night?”
“Don’t try to—”
“Let’s get back before discussing this.” I headed off at double speed. Walking out of my brother’s suite, I felt better—like there was a chance to make things all better. But then... but then it came crashing back into me that it wasn’t my decision to wake up alone, and what I wanted or thought wasn’t enough to make things better. He had to want it too.
I walked into my quarters, leaving the door wide open in invitation and setting my muffin down on the counter, suddenly no longer hungry.
“I feel like we just had a huge fight in the hallway and I have no idea how or about what.” Devlin stepped close. “Tell me. Is this because of last night?”
“Yes. You left. You left me in bed alone and then don’t think I didn’t see you fly away. I did and I hated it. I wanted to be flying with you.” I closed my eyes, trying to gain some order to my word vomit. “I want to be with you, and I know you like this job or whatever, but... I can mate who I want—date who I want.”
“My sweet boy, you think I don’t want you?” His voice hitched. “I want you so much it hurts—and my dragon—that’s why we flew. He wanted to claim you... make you ours.” I stepped into his open arms. “But we can’t. There’s too much at risk.”
“That’s what... the history we learned—it’s wrong, and even if it wasn’t, my fathers would approve of you.” There was so much to say about it, but did any of it matter? The details were in the history books; all that mattered was that we could be together. “I’m sure of it... I mean, he would have to, right? He chose you to protect me... he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t... he didn’t... he would. I know it.”
“Are you willing to risk it?” He spoke so matter-of-factly... did he not understand that I’d do anything to be his... that he was the one I’d been waiting for when I hadn’t even known I’d been waiting?
My phone started to go off and not in a ring tone I could ignore... my father.
“You need to get that.” He rubbed his eyes as he let out a sigh.
“I hate this fucking thing.” I grabbed my phone.
“Good morning, Father,” I answered the phone, my father letting me know that my breakfast with my brother was now a fa
mily affair in their quarters, effectively ending my conversation with Devlin at the worst possible moment. Fan-freaking-tastic.
18
Devlin
“Why are you so formal in your attire?” I couldn’t help but rake my eyes up and down his body. He looked every bit as regal as his title implied, complete with tassels and dress pants that fit him in such a way that I was already sporting a semi, which was bad—very bad, given we were going to an elementary school for story time.
“The kids love it.” He twirled around. “I remember when I was in school and the fireman came in to teach us fire safety. My favorite part was when they put on their full gear. I don’t do it when visiting the older kids because they are ‘too cool’ for that, but this is Mrs. Blaze’s kindergarten class and they live for this kind of thing.”
Blaze. Blaze. “How do I know that name?”
“Spencer’s mom.” He smiled warmly. “She was my kindergarten teacher too—all of my brothers. The school wanted us separated because it was better not to be too dependent on one another or some garbage, but with security and such, my parents insisted. That’s where we met Spencer.”
“He had his mom as a teacher?” I thought back to my childhood and how that very much would not have worked for me.
“He did, and she was harder on him than any of the rest of us.” His small chuckle had me wondering what memory my question had tapped into.
“Should I use my formal uniform?” I asked, thinking about what he’d said. It would be easy enough to swap clothing and still make it on time.
“Yes?” It came out as a question, and I half wondered as I changed if he hadn’t wanted to hurt my feelings by asking. I mean, sure my uniform was distinct and fine as is, but the formal one—I almost looked like a child’s picture-book character. It was perfect for the classroom.
By the time I had changed, it was time to go. We decided that we would take the “official” vehicle, the one people looked at and immediately thought, There is the royal family. It was mostly used for parades, but Chance thought the kids would like it.
He really was going all in on this visit. I’d been with him on other school visits, but they had all been for older kids about scholarships the royal family had available or jobs at the palace. That had taken me aback, given the community wasn’t more than half shifters, but as Chance explained it, sworn allegiance to the king made it different than just random humans possibly learning our ways and well within the laws. That made me smile. In a country where they could so easily create a dynamic of haves and have-nots based on birth, whether the humans realized that it was happening or not, the king went so far out of his way to not do that. He was a good man.
The entire royal family were good men.
“Can you circle around a couple of times, Carl?” Chance asked our driver for the day as we reached the school. He took out his phone and typed away. “It will give Mrs. Blaze a chance to have the kids notice us.” He slipped his phone in his pocket, and sure enough, by the second trip around, the kids were all at the window, leaving no doubt which classroom we were going to visit.
On the final pass, we pulled to a stop in front of the building, and Carl got out to open the door for us as the children watched, having no idea that Chance usually bopped out on his own just as the car came to a halt. He wasn’t for all this formal garbage. It was all for them—the little faces pressed against the glass with eager anticipation.
I climbed out first and stood at attention, making just as big a show out of it. I even saluted as he exited the vehicle.
By the time we reached the classroom, the children were all in their seats, hands folded, as if they had been there all day. Adorable.
“Your Highness,” Mrs. Blaze greeted us at the door.
“None of that, Mrs. Blaze.” He pulled her into a hug, earning him some gasps of awe and a few stray giggles.
“Class, did you know Mrs. Blaze was my kindergarten teacher too?” They all nodded. “She is the reason I know how to read. It was hard to learn, but now I can go anywhere I want in the world.” He walked over to a rug with a rocking chair and sat. “Do you want to know how you can do it too?”
He sat down and spread out his arms. The kids looked to Mrs. Blaze who gave them one nod, and they all raced over and sat in front of him.
“He’s really good with the kids.” She held out her hand. “I’m Clarisse. You must be Devlin.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Cut that ma’am stuff. Spencer said you’re more than an employee.” I froze. Did everyone know? Shit, did I even know? We never got to finish our conversation which was for the best because nothing good could come of it... if only you could turn down feelings. “He says he considers you a friend.” She patted my shoulder.
“The prince is a fine young man.”
“That he is. Now go listen, you aren’t going to want to miss this.”
I walked over, and she was right. I didn’t want to miss a second of his storytelling.
I stood to the side so as not to distract the children as Chance told the lore of the island, from the first dragon to the first king. Little did most of them know, this wasn’t a story but their history. The humans would never learn of its truth, but one day, or possibly already depending on the families, the little dragons would.
I remembered my grandfather telling me the lore of our family when I was a boy, with as much pride and enthusiasm as Chance was now. It meant everything to me then and held a warm spot in my memory. And here Chance was giving it to these children.
“Who can tell me what happens next?” he asked, and almost all of the hands popped up. “How about you with the royal smile?” He pointed to a little girl practically bouncing up and down to answer.
“Kissing.” Her giggles were contagious and they all joined in, even Mrs. Blaze.
“Almost.” He clapped his hands and leaned in. “They got married and the king promised the dragons a long happy life in our mountains.”
“That’s where the smoke comes from!” one little boy called out. “The volcano is fueled by dragons.”
“That is the story.” Chance leaned back. “Now for the good stuff.”
“The good stuff?” Mrs. blaze asked.
“Yes, I told you all a story, now I want to hear stories from you? Have any of you written any stories lately?” Every hand went up. “Wait... Is this Tell Me a Story Week?” He knew it was. It was plastered all over the walls as we walked down and the reason he was even here.
“It is!!!!!!” quite a few answered at once.
“Mrs. Blaze, is there time for them to share their stories before lunch?”
She turned to the clock as the students anxiously waited for a reply. “Hmmm, there are two names on our birthday calendar, so we need to be done in enough time to gather their treats from the teacher’s lounge, but I think we could manage.”
“Two?” He held up two fingers. She nodded. “Who are these lucky students to share a birthday?”
Two children raised their hands. “Wow. You are so lucky. I shared my birthday with my brothers in kindergarten. It was the best.”
The one little boy kept his hand up and Chance called on him. “Weren’t you sad you had to share with them all?”
“Oh no! Sharing with my brothers is fun because we got to have extra cake, and guess what... there was another little boy who got to share our birthday celebration... he is Mrs. Blaze’s son and my very best friend, born the very next day.”
“He’s your best friend because of your birthdays?” the little boy asked.
“I think so. There is something very special about having your name on the same page of the birthday calendar.”
They went on to chat briefly about birthdays for a few minutes and then Mrs. Blaze organized them so they could all share their stories with Chance.
Watching him like that pulled on something inside of me. He was going to be such an amazing father one day...and if circumstances were different and I wasn’t h
is employee... no, even knowing the odds were stacked against us, part of me longed to be a father alongside him.
Why did this all have to be so complicated?
19
Chance
I loved Tell Me a Story week. There was something magical, not only about sharing our history, but also hearing from the kids what was important in their lives through their stories. My father often said that most of being a good ruler was the ability to listen to what your people wanted and needed.
I wasn’t ever going to take the throne, not as the youngest, and I didn’t even want it, but I took that advice to heart, especially when it came to the children. Children are often so easily dismissed by the adults around them, and I wanted, at least for that one day, for all of them to feel heard. It was silly and probably didn’t make a difference in the long run, but it was something I could do. Something I was good at.
In that classroom, I wasn’t the son that didn’t quite grow up. I wasn’t the little brother. I was the Prince of Monitpan. And for that one morning, they had all of my undivided attention. More than once, I wondered if I’d have become a teacher had my path not been laid out for me.
This trip, however, that longing led more to father than teacher, and I shut that right down. I wasn’t even mated, and the man I longed for had pretty much let the conversation about us being anything go unfinished. Having children was the last thing I should be thinking about.
“Your stomach is rumbling, Your Highness.” My hand fell to my stomach instinctively, embarrassed that it had not only gone off in the car, but also that it was loud enough that Carl all the way in the front could hear it. I’d been so far in my head I hadn’t even noticed. “Would you like to stop to eat along the way home?”
I turned to Devlin who was looking on with amusement. He’d been such a good sport today, listening to all of the kids as they asked him questions, as I sat down with each one of them to hear them read their stories. It was one thing to accompany me, yet another to listen to child after child wanting to know all the details about his uniform and working in the palace.
The Dragon Prince’s Daddy: An M/M MPreg Shifter Romance (Royal Heat Book 1) Page 8
