by Sophie Stern
We walk quietly up to the front door.
“Are you sure about this?” Reece asks. He was silent the entire walk, lost in his own thoughts. I gave him that silence, that freedom. He doesn’t need to have me breathing down his neck right now, peppering him with questions. When we get a mental health professional here, she’ll be able to ask him the right questions.
I don’t want to ask him the wrong thing and ruin his fragile state. I don’t want to disrupt him and hurt him. If he feels stressed or anxious, terrified or cornered, he’s going to shut down. Then she’ll have even more difficulty getting through to him. I already have enough weighing on my heart. I don’t need that, too.
“Reece, you’re my brother.”
“Am I?” The tiger shifter stiffens beside me. He doesn’t make a move to the door. He just stands there tensely. He’s waiting for something. Rejection, maybe? Is he waiting for me to change my mind and decide that he’s not worth the trouble? Is he pausing because he’s giving me an out?
“Yes,” I growl. “For better or worse.”
“We’re not fucking married,” he spits out.
“We might as well be, after this,” I say, turning the knob and pushing the door open. “It’s been a long time since I’ve lived with someone. I may have forgotten how this whole thing works.”
“How long?” He asks, warily glancing toward the door, as if her ghost is going to walk out of it. Maybe he doesn’t know I was married before. Maybe he doesn’t know what happened to me, and I don’t really feel like diving into it. Not with Reece. Not with anyone. My clan has been nothing but supportive of me, but still, I don’t talk about the past. It’s not going to help any of us now. Not at this point.
“Long enough,” I say gruffly, and walk inside ahead of him. He can follow me or not. I head indoors and start turning on lights as I make my way to the kitchen. After the day I’ve had, I’m fucking starving. I go into the kitchen and start rummaging around, pulling out ingredients. One thing that always helps me calm down is having a good meal. I love cooking. I have her to thank for that love. She taught me that when nothing else is going my way, I can cook. I can make a meal. I can be creative, I can take some time for myself, and I can craft something delicious while I calm myself down.
Even now, years after she’s been gone, I still think of her words and I hold them to my heart.
I start cooking and, as I suspected, I soon hear the front door close. There are still no footsteps. Reece is likely standing in the doorway, making up his mind as to whether he’s actually going to go through with this and stay with me.
He probably thinks he’s going to inconvenience me somehow. Or maybe he thinks I just don’t trust him. Neither of those things is accurate. If anything, he’s doing me a favor since I don’t have to be alone tonight. Besides, what was I going to do? Leave him in the medical clinic? Or medical team members are fantastic, especially now that Donald is back. We actually have a real clinic again instead of just using the veterinarian’s office for everything. Still, I know that the team there is limited with what they can do and how they can treat a specific illness or disorder.
A mental problem?
Severe post-traumatic stress?
What are they going to do?
Strap him down when they go home for the night?
The last thing Reece needs is to feel like an animal locked in a cage. He doesn’t need to feel like a monster. He doesn’t need to be treated like he’s going to cause problems for anyone else. If Reece is treated poorly, he’s going to react poorly. I should have paid closer attention to him before. I should have realized how he was doing, how he was functioning with his pain.
But I didn’t.
Now I’m realizing that not only do I need to take care of Reece, but I need to check on the other shifters we rescued that night. Everyone else seems to have mostly integrated into life at the clan. A few of the shifters have actually taken mates. Others have found jobs they love in the clan that they’ve poured their hearts and souls into.
Reece, though, he’s kind of a loner.
And that can be a good thing, but it can also be dangerous and isolating.
I pull out tomatoes and eggs, along with a couple of onions. I’m in the mood for a frittata, so that’s what I’m going to make. I grab my cutting board and start chopping away, trying not to think about how much time I spent in this kitchen with her.
Reflecting on the past can be a beautiful thing, but it can also be dangerous, isolating. I have too many shifters – hell, and humans – to worry about right now. I can’t afford to be distracted by thinking about the past and how much I miss my wife.
How much I miss everything about her.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps
One.
Then two.
Then another.
Reece moves down the hall carefully, deliberately. I focus on making the frittata while he comes down the hall toward the kitchen. I imagine he’s stopping to explore his surroundings a little bit. He’s probably looking at the windows, at the décor. Maybe he’s wondering why I live here alone. That’s not something I’m ready to talk about.
I might not have a family anymore, but I certainly don’t plan on leaving our home anytime soon.
Not the home I shared with her.
With them.
Suddenly, he’s in the doorway, and he sets his bag down beside the kitchen entrance.
“You made it,” I say without looking up. Again, I don’t want to spook him or surprise him. I’m nervous now. I’m worried that if I say the wrong thing, it’s going to destroy any chance the therapist has of getting Reece to open up, and we desperately need him to open up.
We need him to be able to speak about his experiences when he was a captive. If he’s still being affected this badly, there might be more to his abduction than we know about. Maybe they did more than just medical experiments on him. Even if they didn’t, Reece might have heard more than he’s letting on. He might know more than he even realizes.
When you’re in a crisis situation, a lot of things happen that you don’t process completely or entirely until someone encourages you to. He might have heard planning, or names, or dates, or even places. He might have heard a million different things. If we can break through and get him talking, we might have a chance at figuring out what their next move is.
I know Lee and his team are working on something. They’ve got some leads they’re supposed to tell me about later today. I don’t know what they’ve found, but hopefully it’ll lead us somewhere.
The last few months have been hell as we’ve tried to keep the clan safe and try to figure out what Lucky’s next move is. They always seem to be one step ahead of us and despite our best efforts, dragons still disappear regularly. I don’t let my clan members leave now unless they go out with at least one other shifter. If they need to go out into the woods, they can do it with another dragon, with a wolf, or even with a bear. I don’t care, but they can’t be alone.
It’s too easy to be abducted when you’re alone.
“Welcome,” I say to Reece.
“Thanks,” he says.
“Hungry?”
“Nope,” but his stomach growls and gives him away. He sighs. “All right,” he concedes. “Maybe a little.”
“Frittatas sound okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Plates are up there,” I point to a cupboard with my spatula, then turn back around to keep cooking, allowing him to help me out. I’m not going to treat Reece like a victim. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that being treated like a weakling is the worst thing you can do to someone when they’re struggling. Reece needs to know he can be treated normally.
Maybe I haven’t done a very good job of that.
“What do you like as toppings?” I ask him.
Reece doesn’t respond right away, and I look over at him. He’s just standing there, holding two plates.
And he’s crying quietly.
“What’s wrong?” I ask Reece.
“Thank you,” he says, so silently I almost can’t hear him.
“For what, brother?” I pull the pan from the burner and set it aside. Then I move to Reece and place my hand on his shoulder. “I haven’t done anything.”
“You aren’t treating me the way I deserve to be treated,” he says.
“Yes, I am.”
“Nah,” he shakes his head. “No one else would do this, you know. Everyone else...they’d have no trouble killing me for what I did, for what I tried to do.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance, Reece,” I tell him.
I know that more than anyone.
“I won’t let you down,” he says.
And I know right then that it’s more than just words.
It’s his promise to me.
It’s his oath.
And there’s nothing a dragon takes more seriously than that.
“Why don’t we sit down?” I say, finishing up plating the food. I hand one plate to Reece, take the other for myself, and then we sit down at the kitchen counter. The hand-stained stools are comfortable, but casual enough to put anyone who eats here at ease. He visibly relaxes as he reaches for his fork and takes his first bite.
“It’s good,” he says, surprised.
I smile. “Of course it’s good. Do you really think I would give you something that wasn’t completely perfect?”
He shrugs. “I haven’t had good food in a long time,” he tells me. “It reminds me of home.”
“That’s a compliment,” I tell him, passing him a glass of water. He takes it and chugs it. Then we finish our meal in silence. After we finish eating, Reece and I wash the dishes together and quietly put them away.
“Ready to see your room?” I ask. He nods, but doesn’t reply. We head back into the hallway and Reece grabs his bag. He doesn’t have much. We stopped by his quarters on the way over here so he could pack up his things. I was a little surprised when it turned out to be so little. He’s been here nearly half a year. I suppose I figured he would have accumulated more belongings by now.
Then again, maybe he was afraid to get comfortable.
We head back toward the front of the house where there’s a large stairway leading up. I motion for him to go first, but he hesitates, so I lead the way. I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable. The walls are lined with pictures of my family. Reece glances at them, but doesn’t ask about them, and for that, I’m instantly grateful.
I don’t mind talking about them.
It’s just that every time I do, a little piece of my heart cracks and breaks inside.
Sometimes I miss them so much it hurts. Sometimes I can make it almost through the entire day without thinking about the pain. Most of the time, I’m too busy with clan business to wallow in my own sadness, and that’s the one thing that seems to save me. That’s the only thing that keeps me sane right now.
At the top of the stairs, there’s another little hallway with two doors on each side. I head to the back left door and push it open.
“Here are you,” I tell him. “One guest room. Perfect for a weary traveler.”
He chuckles as he follows me into the room. Then he sucks in his breath.
“Wow, Wilson, are you sure? I mean, this is...”
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “Honestly, I should have invited you here a long time ago. Maybe if I had...”
I don’t finish my sentence, but we both know what I was about to say. Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have broken the way he did. Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have become so damaged. Maybe if I’d considered him in his time of need, I could have reached him instead of waiting until it was too late. I was selfish or careless. Perhaps both.
There was no reason for me to keep my home to myself. It’s big enough for both me and other shifters to use. But for some reason, I’ve kept it as some sort of dark shrine to my lost family.
It’s time for that to change.
Giving up the guest room is fairly painless, I realize. It’s going through the other two rooms and making them guest-ready that’s going to be difficult for me. Still, seeing Robert’s eyes light up when he walks into the space makes me want to do this again for someone who needs help. There are other shifters who still don’t have a real place to stay, who have simply been living together without members of the community.
Yeah, I’ve given them homes, but they’re still alone.
“There’s a bathroom,” I say, pointing out the door.
“It’s huge,” Reece peeks at it.
“Well, you know, I didn’t want to spare any expense when I built the place.”
“I could live in just the bathroom,” he says, and for the first time, he chuckles. “The tub is bigger than my bed.”
I smile, glad to see him feeling comfortable here. That means a lot to me.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s wonderful,” he says.
“I’ll leave you to get settled,” I tell him, suddenly feeling a little awkward. I’m so not-used to having someone here that I’m not really sure what the proper protocol is now. Do I leave so he can unpack? Do I invite him to hang out? I’m not sure.
“It won’t take me long to unpack,” Reece says. “To be honest, I’m feeling pretty tired. It’s been a long day. I might just go to sleep after this. That is,” he adds quickly. “If it’s okay with you.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
He nods, and I leave, closing the door behind me. I head back downstairs to my office, go into the room, close the door, and sit down at the desk. I drop my head in my hands and close my eyes, taking deep breaths to keep myself calm in this moment.
Everything is going to be okay, I tell myself.
It has to be.
There’s literally no way things can get worse than they are, right? We’ve all but defeated Lucky’s little offshoot offices. We’ve found and destroyed almost a dozen scientific testing centers. Unless Lee’s team is going to tell me that the president is behind this organization or that they’ve somehow found our location deep within the forbidden forest – which is completely unlikely – then I think we’re going to be okay.
We have to be okay.
Fuck.
I hope everything will be okay.
Chapter Six
Nicole
He holds his hand out to me, and Lee raises his eyebrows slightly. He silently asks if I’m going to trust him this time. Am I going to give him this moment? Am I going to give him everything? Am I going to give him all that he needs from me? Am I going to let him guide me? These questions are important, but still, I let them hang in the air before I respond to him. Lee’s eyes hold more than just questions. They hold hope. He wants this just as much as I do. I can see that now.
Years ago – hell, even weeks ago – I would have resisted. I would have refused him. I wouldn’t have given him this one small thing, but now, things are a little different. Today it feels like I’ve been focused on the wrong things and not on the right ones. It’s possible that I’m just feeling a little more generous than I have in the past, but I take his hand, and I follow him out of the house. I think Lee breathes a sigh of relief. I know I do. It feels good to let go and give in to him in this way. My skin feels like it’s on fire as he holds my hand, guiding me. Almost instantly, I’m aroused. I want him in other ways, too, but I still feel like I should hold back.
I shouldn’t show all of my cards yet, maybe. Maybe it’s just that I’ve been hurt before, both by him and by Micah. I don’t want to jump in headfirst and end up getting hurt. Not by Lee. I don’t think I could take it if I got hurt again. Then again, I don’t think he could, either.
Lee is a badass. He struts outside, leading me down the stairs to the grass, but there’s caution in his movements. He’s always looking around, always paying attention. He never lets his guard down. I wonder if that’s because of me, or if it’s part of being a
dragon.
Jeremy and Lee both shift when we get outside. Even though I’ve seen dragons change many times before, it always kind of takes my breath away. They’re both just so big and beautiful. They stand side-by-side, obviously waiting for me to get on top of Lee, but for a second, I just take them in, admiring their long tails, their thick necks, and their shiny scales. Although the temptation to pet them is nearly overwhelming, I resist, instead realizing that neither one of them is my pet and they shouldn’t be treated like they are.
The two dragons are endlessly patient. They wait quietly as I prepare to climb on one of their backs. They don’t have to give me instructions for this part. I’ve been living with the dragons for a long time. While I’ve never been on a dragon before – there hasn’t been a single shifter who would have even thought about letting me near them –I’ve watched as other humans in the clan ride on their mates or friends or whatever.
So I know that the first thing I have to do is take a deep breath and calm the fuck down because dragons are really fucking huge in real life. Enormous. Giant. They’re bigger than almost anything I could have imagined. They’re so big that they tower over me, making me feel like I’m almost tiny, and at almost six feet tall, “tiny” is a feeling I rarely experience.
I breathe in and out, reminding myself that this journey is likely only going to last a few minutes. Both Lee and Jeremy kneel low, which gives me the choice of who I want to climb on. The decision to pick Lee isn’t hard, and I move next to him. He huffs out a bit of air, which I’d like to think means he’s happy with this choice, but I really can’t tell. Either way, I somehow manage to wiggle up onto his back. He doesn’t move as I carefully position myself on his body, and I remember what one of the human girls said about riding on dragons: sit close to the neck.
So instead of resting in the middle of the back, as I might naturally be inclined to do, I slide forward until I’m almost directly behind his head. I lean close, touching the top of his head. My breasts push against his neck, and I wonder if he can feel this. I wonder if he notices exactly how close we are right now. This is a part of Lee I never got to experience when we were dating. This moment feels long overdue.
