by Olivia Arran
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.
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 Twelve
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.”
Damn. 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.
“It’s not like that—”
It was only Astrid’s hand on my arm that stopped me from finally knocking Bastian the fuck out.
“He’s not selling me; he’s using me to buy favor with one of the larger clans.”
How the fuck did she sound so calm? And why the hell couldn’t I understand what was going on? “Will someone please explain this to me, plain and simple.”
Bastian opened his mouth, but Astrid glared at him. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she murmured to her brother, “You owe money to three of the local clans. One is too small for you to worry about their retaliation, but the other two could make your life very difficult. If I agree to mate with one of the two clan Alphas they will waive your debt as a dowry and combine their power with Jewelcrest allowing you the time needed to find the rest of the money?”
Bastian slid back down into his chair, his hand rubbing a weary path over his face. “Nearly. There are three Alphas vying for your hand.”
“Three?” Astrid sounded confused, which made me feel a little better. Either half of this conversation had gone on inside of Bastian’s head, or I wasn’t firing on all cylinders. I preferred the first option.
“A third clan has heard you are a Seer, and they have offered to match the dowry.”
“And if Astrid says no?”
Panic widened Bastian’s eyes a fraction before he got it under control. “Then the Jewelcrest clan would be absorbed into other neighboring clans.”
“Are you still gambling?”
I held my breath, waiting for Bastian to answer her question.
“No.”
I couldn’t tell if he was lying, his scent already soured by humiliation and defeat.
“He’s telling the truth,” Astrid whispered. “Okay. I’ll consider it.”
What? Was she kidding me? But before I had the chance to object, she’d grabbed me by the hand and was tugging me out of the room, a hypnotic sway to her hips.
I bit back the words on the tip of my tongue; surely she knew she couldn’t go through with this.
But it’s not like you’re offering her an alternative…
Chapter Thirteen
Astrid
Gripping his hand tight, I burst out of the house and headed across the dirt track, following the windy road down to the main village. Trees lined our path, soaring above us and branching across the sky, casting the path in dappled shadows. The scent of the woodland filled my nose, bringing with it a sense of calm and familiarity. I’d run wild through these woods and meadows as a child, skinning my knees and honing my skills for when I’d become one with my dragon.
And when the shift had never happened, the woods had provided shelter for me. A place to retreat to when the voices were too loud, too insistent. A place where the only noise was the chirping of the birds, and the rustle of rabbits and mice scurrying through the grass.
Glancing at Trent, I visually traced the outline of his firm jaw and the full softness of his lips. He moved beside me with a smooth, rolling stride that hinted at the predator within. Each footfall without hesitation or wariness; he was a man who knew his place in the world, felt comfortable in his own skin.
“Can we not talk about it, not yet?”
A wealth of emotion shone in his eyes, but he didn’t hesitate. “Sure. What would you like to do?”
Grateful for the small reprieve, I shrugged. “I was going to take you to the village. Have you been there?” When I’d thought he was from Jewelcrest, I’d wondered if he lived on the family land, or if he was one of the clan members who chose to live apart. “Actually, where are you from?”
His hand loosened in mine, and for a second I thought he was going to let go, but his fingers slid through mine, linking in a crisscross pattern. “Like your brother said, the Greenwing clan.”
Like that told me anything new. “I’ve heard of them … I think?” My voice rose in question, probing for more information.
Ahead of us, signs of civilization broke through the woodland, and he tugged me to a stop. “We’re a small clan, there’s only a few of us left. Home is out to the west, on the other side of the canyon and then straight across country for a few more miles.”
I knew where the canyon he referred to was, but after that I was lost. Dragon shifters tended to refer to locations by way of landmarks rather than place names, a hazard of the trade, I supposed. “Not far away then.” I tried to keep the hopeful note out of my voice, but failed miserably.
“Not far,” he murmured, turning to face me. “Do you really want to go to the village?”
Of course I didn’t, but I’d thought it would be better to get it over with. Especially since with Trent in tow, I wouldn’t be subjected to the spiteful thoughts that I was sure to receive. “What did you have in mind?”
“We could try and connect with your dragon.”
Oooh. That sounds like a plan I can get behind! I grinned at him. “Where do you suggest?”
He returned my grin with one of his own. “Somewhere quiet, where we won’t be interrupted.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect him of planning a seduction… “I know the perfect place,” I murmured, turning off the path and into the trees, my mind dancing with possibilities.
About ten minutes later we reached our destination. It was exactly as I remembered, the lush grass still thick and green despite the bite to the fall air, the small clearing bathed in rays of golden sunlight. Fallen leaves dotted the grass, dashes of purple and browns breaking up the dark green. Several boulders, smooth with age, appeared to grow from t
he ground, soft moss covering the pale gray as if hugging them into the earth.
This clearing had been my secret hideaway as a child, the entrance hidden by a thick row of bushes and well away from the beaten path.
“It’s beautiful.”
I turned to Trent. He understood, the look in his eyes told me that he got it. Moving over to a large flat-topped boulder, I sat down. “What do we do now?”
Throwing himself down onto the grass at my feet, he rolled onto his back and squinted at the sky. Laying an arm over his face he sucked in a deep breath, his chest rising and stretching his T-shirt tight. “We wait.”
“Wait?”
Not moving his arm, he nodded.
“For what?”
He didn’t answer, the rise and fall of his chest slowing.
I nudged him with my foot. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me!”
“I’m not on you,” he mumbled. His hand shot out, grabbing my foot and yanked.
I pitched forward into arms that cradled me, cushioning my fall.
“But I can be, if that’s what you want?” His voice was low and husky, his eyes swirling with flames as he gazed into mine. Not waiting for an answer, he rolled, crushing me into the sweet smelling grass. “Is this better?”
His arms cradled my head, putting us eye to eye. The hard length of his body pressed into mine, heavy and promising. Delicious.
He’s going to kiss me… Words caught in my throat as I waited, anticipation thrumming through me.
Massaging his fingers through my hair, he lowered his head, his eyes never leaving mine.
Yes. It wasn’t my thought; it was my dragon’s.
“There she is,” he murmured, approval lighting his eyes. “Talk to her, Astrid. Tell her she can come out to play.”
And how the hell am I supposed to do that? I was half annoyed at what I now recognized as his scheming and half admiring it. A whole boat load of disappointment swelled inside of me.
“Go on, talk to her.”
