by J. K Harper
“A mate…” my voice trailed off, taking in her apparent shock and putting two and two together. “You didn’t know?”
“You brought me home to pick out a mate?” she squeaked out.
She didn’t know… The words circled in my head, picking up speed, until they were a roar. How did she not—? Why—? Motherfucker! Grabbing her hand, I tugged her until she was next to me. Tilting her chin, I capture her eyes with mine. “You can’t read me, can you?”
She tried to look away, but I wouldn’t let her, willing her to tell me the truth. “Tell me the truth, can you read me?” I growled in a low voice.
She swallowed hard, her throat working as her lips parted.
Our faces were inches apart. All I had to do was lean in a fraction and I could taste her again, drink in her breathy moans and sip at her flesh. But I needed to know. “Tell me…”
“No.” It was a whisper, a sound so vulnerable and lost and scared. Her bottom lip quivered for the briefest moment before she pulled it back into line. “So, now you know. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who is silent to me.” She gave me a shove, and I felt like the biggest schmuck alive.
I let her widen the gap between us, but I didn’t retreat. Something niggled at me. “Why could you read me on the plane?”
She shrugged. “I had a vision.”
So, that bit had been true. I wasn’t sure if the roar I bit back was one of triumph or frustration. She’d seen us together. But did that mean it was going to happen, or it might? Did it fucking matter? “I’m sorry—”
“Trent … don’t.” She dismissed me, turning her head away from me, her shoulders set in a rigid line.
“Astrid, I—” A hand appeared in front of my face.
“Please. I need to think. I’ve just found out that my brother is planning on mating me off to a man I’ve never met—one of several possible men—and you’re not going to do a damn thing to stop him. In fact, you’re helping him!” She slid back over to her side of the cab, and I let her.
What could I say? I had helped, but that was before I’d known her, and realized who she was to me. And has that changed things? I felt like I was slowly being torn in half, the needs of the man warring with the duty owed to his clan. To his family. Which brought me around in a full circle, I wasn’t equipped to keep her safe—my clan wasn’t strong enough, or rich enough, to guard a Seer.
The Seer.
And her safety was more important than anything.
I slid the car back into drive and pulled back out onto the road.
Chapter 11
Astrid
The truck had barely rolled to a stop before I’d thrown myself out and was racing up the stairs to the oversized, stone built house I used to call home. Not bothering to knock, I pushed open the door, making my way into the vaulted foyer, the slate tiles clicking beneath my heels with every step. Familiar art work decorated the walls, washing the otherwise gray space with splashes of color. The only furniture in sight was a large love seat crammed into the far corner.
I knew most dragon shifters liked their space, and they liked durable furniture. Or none at all. It came in handy with the fire breathing, not to mention the wings and tail.
Bastian had re-decorated since I’d left, or more like un-decorated, and it didn’t bode well for his temper.
I heard Trent come in after me, the soft click from the door closing giving him away. Not bothering to turn around—I was still beyond pissed with him—I strolled across the foyer, heading toward the clan living area.
If my brother thinks he can pass me off to a man of his choosing, he has another thing coming! And as for Trent? Well, it didn’t matter how sinfully handsome he was, or how his muscles were a work of art that I wanted to explore with my tongue, or even how he was the only man I could be myself around—including the blessed silence he gave me. He was on my shit list right now. Way up there at the top.
Wondering where everyone was, I pushed open the door to the lounge. A tall man stood with his back to me, his back straight and his shoulders squared as he stared out of the window. Dark hair curled over his ears, his tanned arms bare and gleaming in the sunlight misting through the window. Tension radiated off him, and I watched as a shudder ran down his spine, his shoulders stiffening before he turned to face me.
“Bastian,” I whispered, drinking in the sight of him. His eyes were as blue as I remembered, the color of sapphires, sparkling alarmingly like the jewels as he looked at me.
“You found her,” he eventually croaked out, his gaze redirected over my shoulder.
Heat bathed my back and I resisted the urge to lean into Trent as he came up behind me. Stiffening, I curled my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms.
Bastian’s eyes flicked back to me, the worry and hurt and relief that I could see on his face echoing in his thoughts. He opened his arms and I was in them, my feet having carried me across the room before I’d even realized. “I’ve missed you so much,” he muttered in a gruff voice, his hold tightening as if he were scared I’d up and leave again. “Why did you go? Where have you been?”
Trent hadn’t told him? I resisted the urge to glance at the man in question. My hideout—my little store—was still safe. For now. “You know why I had to leave. Everyone was afraid of me … even you.”
I stepped back, but his hands on my shoulders stopped me from going too far. His face scrunched up as he winced. “Yeah, at first I was a little shocked. I mean, you knew things you couldn’t possibly know!”
I scowled at the uncertainty in his voice. He still wasn’t sure whether to believe it, even after they’d given me the title of Seer! “Nothing’s changed.”
“I know. It’s just hard to wrap my head around it. My sister—the Seer. Who would have thought it?” His eyes widened as he gazed down on me with new found respect.
I resisted the urge to preen, knowing my brother well enough to recognize flattery when I heard it. “Knock it off, Bash. I know why you asked Trent to find me.”
He winced at my deliberate use of his childhood nickname. “You told her.”
“She deserved to know.”
My brother’s attention reverted to me. “But you came home anyway.” A wide grin spread over his face.
I poked him in the chest. “Hey, not so fast. I haven’t agreed to it.”
He shrugged. “You’re here.”
“Only because of him.” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder, all the while wondering why I was giving Trent the credit. Was I searching for Bash’s approval of the man who would be my mate?
“Good.” My brother let go of my shoulders and walked around me, his long legs carrying him across the room in a matter of seconds. Spinning around, I watched as he held a hand out to Trent. “Your debt is now paid; you may return to your clan with honor.”
What the—? “You’re not a part of the Jewelcrest clan?” It came out on a shriek I immediately regretted. I’d been playing it cool, trying not to let Trent see how much he affected me. No chance of that now.
Bastian’s eyebrows arched. “No, Trent is of the Greenwing clan.”
“But—” My protest died on my lips once I saw the look on Trent’s face. He was embarrassed—but why? With herculean effort, I pulled myself together and made my way over to the scheming pair. “Trent isn’t going anywhere,” I stated firmly, daring either of them to tell me otherwise.
“Astrid—”
“She’s right,” Trent cut in smoothly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I promised to teach Astrid how to communicate with her dragon.”
You promised to teach me how to fly … but I suppose for that I’d need to talk to her. I nodded, noting the annoyance that flitted through my brother’s eyes.
Bastian eyed us both the way you’d eye a dancing snake. “I thought your dragon was dormant?”
“She’s woken up,” I replied smoothly.
“And you can still hear people’s thoughts?” Bastian asked, his voice sharp.
&n
bsp; I concentrated, dialing up the volume. Trent was still a blank, but Bastian… “You’re thinking about that time when you were a young dragon and you fell over your own tail.” I couldn’t help but smile, though the memory stirred up an old ache. As a child I’d have given anything to be able to shift, to fit in with the other clan children.
“And now?”
I listened again. “Very funny.” I pulled a face at him.
“Is the periodic table a little boring for you?”
“I’m more of a poetry kind of girl.”
“So you really can only hear what I’m actually thinking?”
I nodded, still hearing his monotonous recitation inside my head. “You can speak and think something else at the same time?”
Bastian tapped the side of his head. “Lots of preparation, practice, and discipline. Though I wasn’t sure if it would actually work.”
I tried to ignore the sting of his words, he didn’t mean it. And who wouldn’t want to protect themselves from eavesdroppers? A whisper of pressure against my back and everything went silent, Bastian’s internal voice cutting off abruptly. Warmth spread through me at the small sign of support. Trent’s way of letting me know he understood.
“It might surprise you, but I don’t go around trying to listen to people’s most secret thoughts. Most of the time I manage to tune them out,” I said to Bastian in a voice that dripped with sarcasm.
He blinked at me, a tick working in his jaw, then a smile spread over his face. “I believe you, otherwise I’m pretty sure you’d have just handed me my balls!”
What the hell had I just missed? But at least he believed me now. “When have you planned the big event for?” If I knew my brother at all, it would be a song and dance.
“The night after tomorrow.”
Just like Trent had said. I wanted to grill Bastian for answers, but a wave of lethargy washed over me, dragging me down. I was so damn tired, of fighting and trying to fit in. And just plain bone achingly tired. The grilling could wait until tomorrow.
“You need to rest; it was a long flight.”
I turned to Trent, wishing he wasn’t on my shit list so I could curl up in his arms and demand he carry me to bed. But he was, so I wasn’t going there.
“Your old room is made up,” Bastian offered.
“Thanks. We still need to talk about this,” I cautioned over my shoulder as I dragged myself out of the room. I didn’t want him thinking that I’d caved and was going to participate in this silly idea of his.
“We will—tomorrow.”
My eyelids were drooping as I fought to keep them open. Daylight still streamed through the windows, jarring against my tiredness. Damn jet lag!
I paused in the foyer, the stairs looking like an insurmountable challenge. Maybe I could curl up on the love seat? I eyed it thoughtfully.
Arms scooped me up and crushed me against a hard chest, the steady thud of Trent’s heart filling my ears. Resisting the urge to melt against him, I held out until the first landing. His scent wrapped around me, twisting and coaxing and stroking against my frayed nerves until I was a quivering mess inside.
Our mate won’t hurt us; he loves us…
The voice wasn’t a shock this time.
He doesn’t want me, I replied.
Rubbish, my dragon purred. You know that’s a lie. Something is stopping him from claiming us.
Not only did she have the coolest British accent, she was kind of making sense. Why was he here, helping the Jewelcrest Clan? What debt was settled? Why did he think he wasn’t good enough for me? I had too many questions and not enough answers.
Giving in, I melted against him, memorizing the feel of him under my cheek, my heart slowing until it thudded in time with his.
I had two days to figure it all out, because hell would freeze over before I allowed myself to be sold off to the highest bidder.
Chapter 12
Trent
After a night of restless tossing and turning, and absolutely no sign of sleep, I found myself sat in the dining room, Bastian’s words from last night ringing in my ears.
Once I’d laid a gently snoring Astrid in her bed—and after I had fought back the uncontrollable need to set up camp in her room and watch over her—I’d joined Bastian for a drink and what turned out to be an uncomfortable talk.
He’d encouraged me to stick around, suggesting that since Astrid seemed comfortable with me, and from what he’d witnessed, appeared to trust me, that I could watch over her.
Spend more time with Astrid? Hell, yes, had been my initial reaction.
Yeah, I hadn’t thought it through. I twirled my fork in my hand, the silver glinting in the bright sunlight. The storm hadn’t arrived yet, a strong wind blowing it a little off course, but my dragon senses told me it would be here soon.
Astrid leaned back in her chair, cradling her delicate china cup as she sipped her morning brew. Steam curled out of the cup, misting across her face. She wore her hair loose today, the thick, black strands tumbling around her shoulders to graze her elbows.
At the other side of the table sat Bastian, who was, at this point in time, glowering at his sister. “Promise me you’ll make an effort,” he repeated, frustration dragging his mouth down even further.
I was rapidly realizing that if I’d thought Bastian stubborn, he had nothing on his sister.
“Why should I? I don’t want to pick any of the fools you’ve invited.”
“You don’t even know who’s coming!”
“I don’t have to; I know that none of them are right for me.”
Her brother placed the palms of his hands flat on the table, his chest swelling as he took a deep breath. “Astrid, please, be reasonable—”
“If you’d like to tell me why this is so important, then maybe I’ll consider being nice to your guests.” She set her cup down, her eyes flashing with challenge.
Bastian’s eyes flicked to me, then back to his sister. “Trent, could you give us a moment?”
I was halfway out of my chair when Astrid caught my arm. “No, he can stay. He brought me here, he’s already a part of whatever this is.”
I’d just settled back into my seat when she added, “And you’ve got some explaining to do, as well. Don’t think just because I passed out last night that you’re off the hook.”
I stared at her, pride rippling through me. Man, she was fiery; all fierce and ready to slap us down when we got out of line. Magnificent.
I settled in to watch the show, noting the way Bastian’s shoulders tensed up, but he didn’t argue.
He cleared his throat, reaching for a glass of water and taking a sip. “What I say here doesn’t leave this room, understood?” He waited until I nodded, before continuing, “Jewelcrest is in trouble.” He stopped, appearing to search for the right words.
“What kind of trouble?” Astrid prompted, concern layering her voice.
“Of the financial kind.”
Both Astrid and I frowned; it was the first I’d heard of it. To my limited knowledge Jewelcrest had the prestige and wealth that was expected of an old and established clan.
Seeing our reactions, Bastian let out a mirthless laugh. “I’ve been covering where I can, but if I don’t find a fix soon then we’ll be in trouble.”
“What have you done?” Astrid asked in a slow voice.
“I owe a little money,” came the strained response.
“How much?”
He waved a hand, as though downplaying Astrid’s question. “The number doesn’t really matter, suffice to say it’s more than we can afford to repay.”
“Why?”
That’s exactly what I wanted to know, too.
“Why, what?”
“Why do you owe money? Did the roof need repair? Did our stocks crash? Were we robbed?” Her eyebrows rose on the last question and she snapped her fingers. “That’s why there’s hardly any furniture left in this place, we were robbed!”
“I sold it.”
D
amn. Things really were tight. At first I’d wanted to be here for the big showdown, but now I was feeling more than a little uncomfortable. This was family stuff, affairs that shouldn’t be aired in public.
“You sold it? The family heirlooms? What about Mama’s jewelry?”
Bastian shifted in his chair before replying, “Gone.”
The breath she’d sucked in, whooshed out. “Tell me,” she instructed in a hard voice.
“What? Can’t you just read my thoughts? Use your mystical power to pluck the answer out of my mind,” Bastian replied, his voice bitter and with a distinct whine.
I jumped out of my chair, a low snarl rumbling through my chest. Astrid laid a hand on my arm, squeezing.
“Trent, don’t. It’s fine, I’m used to it.” She turned back to her brother, her contempt plain to see. “I told you; I try not to pry, but if you insist.”
Her fingers lifted from my arm. Before my eyes the color leached from her face, her fingers clamping down and digging back into my arm.
“Gambling? Bastian, how could you?”
“It started with a friendly game which turned into a few, and before I knew it I’d lost.”
“You could have stopped!”
“I had to find a way to pay them off and where else was I going to get the money? You’d disappeared, taking with you a good chunk of the family money—”
“My inheritance. And it was a good thing that I did, otherwise you’d have squandered that as well.”
I spoke up for the first time, there was something not quite right about this. “You wanted me to find Astrid and bring her back home, was it because of the money?”
“Bastian, you can have it. All of it, I don’t care—”
“It’s not enough,” her brother snapped.
I wasn’t quite sure how much Astrid had just offered him, but from the way she rocked back in her chair, dismay painting her face, it must have been substantial.
“So, you’re selling her to the highest bidder. How much is she worth? Enough to clear your debt, and your conscience so you can sleep at night, I hope.” My voice rose until I was roaring the words across the table.
