by Olivia Arran
I trudged after Trent through the woodland, a calmness settling over me. First, I needed to find out everything I could about this whole Seer gig. Then, I needed to speak with Bastian. Alone.
Sounds like a plan! My dragon trilled to me, her excitement infectious.
I grinned; Trent wasn’t going to know what hit him. As much as I loved the whole honorable self-sacrifice thing he had going on, if he thought I’d let a little something like money get in the way of true love, he’d better think again. It was time to use my gift to shape the future, not be railroaded by it.
And, yeah, sometimes it took a woman to get a job done right.
The book closed with a satisfying thud, sending dust scattering to dance in the sunlight. I turned to the clan historian, an honorary title given to Earl partly because he was the oldest, and partly to give him something to fill his days with now he couldn’t fly or fight. I beamed at him. “Thank you.”
Looking a little startled, the older man shuffled in his seat, smoothing back his white hair with a hand that was still strong and steady. Age might catch up with a dragon shifter eventually, but we were a hardy bunch and wore it well. He sighed, a sound he had made several times since my arrival at his home. “I’m just sorry I didn’t recognize the signs sooner.”
“You didn’t know, no one did. The last Seer lived seven hundred years ago—”
“But I’d read about her, and the others. Once I’d seen the scrolls, I knew where to look. It was a long time ago, sure, but I should have remembered!”
I laid my hand over his. “You need to stop beating yourself up,” I instructed, hating that he was taking it so personally. Like all this mess was his fault.
Eventually, he nodded, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Are you— Are you reading me now?”
“No,” I replied, willing him to see the truth in my eyes. Dejection hit me. This was going to suck, everyone worrying that I was sneaking a peek at their thoughts.
If they have nothing to hide then there’s nothing for them to worry about, my dragon piped up helpfully.
That’s not the point, I shot back. How am I going to be accepted if they don’t trust me?
Do you want to be accepted? she eventually asked, adding, I thought we weren’t planning on sticking around.
Huh. Good point. I glanced over at Trent who had stayed silent since our arrival. Okay, not silent, more like brooding. Deep furrows lined his brow, the corners of his lips drawn down in a permanent frown. This was a man who had a lot on his mind.
Catching his eye, I spun in my seat to face him. “She was called Kate and she was a green dragon too. Like me,” I added, just in case he wasn’t really listening.
He leaned forward on his stool, hunching his shoulders and resting his chin in his hands. “Go on,” he prompted, his brown eyes lit with interest.
Earl stood, mumbling excuses on his way out of the room. Something about tea?
“There’s not a whole lot about her, the books mainly tell stories about her prophesies, but from what I’ve gathered she was the daughter of two mated dragons. Though there’s mention of a witch in her family history.”
“Just like there must be one in yours.”
“She wasn’t like me, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“She accepted her gifts and her dragon when she was young.” An intense sadness crept over me, for the time I had lost through denying who—and what—I really was.
“She probably had people around her guiding her.”
“She did, another Seer lived near and helped her transition into her powers. It was a passing of the mantle, the responsibilities and title going to Kate.”
“There you go then. You didn’t have anyone to help. You’re too hard on yourself, Astrid,” he chided me in a soft voice.
I swallowed back the self-pity, banishing it from my mind. He was right, what was done, was done. “Something screwed up and I wasn’t born in time for Kate to pass on her knowledge before she died.” Because my mate hadn’t been born yet, either. “I did discover something interesting though.” I patted the space beside me, flicking through the book until I found the correct page.
I felt, rather than saw, him settle beside me, his energy wrapping around me and hugging me close. His breath tickled my cheek as he leaned over me, peering at the page.
Eventually he let out a self-depreciating groan. “My old draconian isn’t so hot, how’s about you tell me what it says?”
“The Seer is born to serve all clans. Their visions—or prophesies, if you prefer—are for every dragon shifter.”
“And?”
Turning my head, I put us face to face, just inches apart. My heart stuttered in my chest, the urge to plant a kiss on his lips almost taking over, but I had a plan. Not yet. “If any man thinks he is taking me as a mate to gain an advantage over other clans, he is acting against ancient draconian law.”
His eyes hadn’t left mine, nor had he moved away. “I haven’t heard of that law.”
“It’s old and probably forgotten. The last time it was invoked was when the last Seer came into her powers. Turns out, people have always been greedy for power. The law was invoked and she mated for love.”
Tension hung in the air, so thick I could taste it. Then he broke away, striding back over to the other side of the room. “Sometimes love doesn’t mean a happy ever after, not for everyone” he muttered cryptically.
I bit back the urge to blurt everything out; to lay my cards on the table so he’d see the truth. But first I had to speak to my brother.
According to history, the Seer always found her true mate and lived happily ever after, protected and cherished by his love and unfailing honor.
And he was always from one of the three clans created to serve the Seer. Kate had mated into the Greensky clan. Her predecessor, into the Greentree clan.
Which left the Greenwing clan.
Trent’s clan.
Trent had been quiet after our visit to the clan historian yesterday, disappearing to his room as soon as we arrived back at the house. After I’d spoken to Bastian, I’d retired early, anxiety churning my stomach up until I fell into a restless sleep.
When I’d gotten up this morning, Trent had already left the house. No note, nothing to let me know where he’d gone.
Bastian didn’t know either, though Trent had mentioned that he would be there tonight. Something along the lines of wouldn’t miss it for the world.
I kicked a stray stone, sending it skittering along the path and tumbling into the long grass. I was hot and sweaty and was pretty sure I had twigs in my hair, but I’d managed to vent most of my frustration out. Unfortunately, without his help, my landings weren’t getting much better, and I desperately needed to brush my teeth to remove the taste of grass.
On a more positive note: I could now get myself into the air on my own, a feat I was secretly proud of. A little more practice and I’d have those landings polished, too. It didn’t matter that I was still shaky like a juvenile, I’d done it!
I added a little skip to my step, bounding up the front steps and slamming into the house with renewed enthusiasm. Nothing could spoil my mood. Not the gathering tonight or Trent’s brooding. What I had to do was clear, and that wasn’t a vision talking—they were more like ideas, fragments of possible futures with no clear instructions on how to make them happen—the getting there was all on me.
The house was a bustle of noise, people milling all over as they hustled back and forth, arranging everything for the gathering tonight. The doors between the living area and dining room had been opened to create a large, cavernous space. Wood gleamed and glass sparkled, even the chandeliers were getting a once over. The fragrant scent of roasting meat and herbs tickled my nose and my mouth watered in anticipation. I hoped we got to eat before the showdown, flying made me hungry.
Heading for the stairs, I took them two at a time in a rush to hit the shower. I had two hours to get ready and I was going to make the most of them.
Chapter Seventeen
Astrid
Music reached my ears as I paused at the bottom of the stairs, along with the low rumble of voices talking and the clink of glasses being filled.
Smoothing a hand over my stomach, I took a deep breath, steeling my spine against the urge to high-tail it back upstairs and hide under my bed. It didn’t help that the dress I was wearing fit like a second skin, the stretchy fabric doing absolutely nothing to hide what I liked to call my problem areas.
Tough. There was only one man whose opinion mattered, and he’d already made it quite clear that he liked what he saw. Lumps and all. Actually, he seemed to find my lumps fascinating. I smothered a nervous snort, taking the final step off the stairs.
We can do this! My dragon said, taking on the role of cheerleader inside my head.
Pasting a smile on my face, I entered the living area-slash-dining room.
One by one people turned, the conversation dwindling off until there was only the music left.
Yep. I’m here—the one you all came to gawk at. I scanned the room, noting the familiar faces from different clans, all people I had met at one point or another in my father’s dealings as Alpha. Some, I didn’t know from Adam. I swallowed, mouth drying up. There had to be over fifty people here!
Panic crowded my mind, pushing out my plans. I can’t do this!
Then, I saw him, his brown eyes warm and locked on mine. He stood toward the back of the room, leaning against the fireplace with a nonchalance I knew immediately was feigned. His black suit was cut to hug his broad shoulders, clinging to his wide chest and tapering in at his waist. Matching slacks hugged his firm, muscular thighs in a way that immediately solved the dry mouth problem, and instead I had to worry about drooling.
The corner of his mouth quirked up in response to my blatant appreciation, his eyes narrowing as he returned the favor. Heat smoldered in the brown depths, flames leaping and dancing as he drank me in. Then, he dipped his head, sending me the silent message I needed to hear. He was here for me.
And he thought I was hot.
I didn’t know which pleased me more.
A throat cleared and Bastian stalked forward, taking my arm. “Play nice,” he hissed, under his breath as a nervous twitch jumped in his cheek. He wasn’t completely on board with my plan—didn’t think it would work—but he loved me enough to let me try. He was trusting both his future, and the future of our clan, in my hands. In the vision I had seen.
I only hoped I didn’t screw it up.
He guided me over to a group of men, each broad and strong in their own way, each with the identical swagger that screamed alpha.
I tuned out as he made introductions, nodding and murmuring when appropriate. My knees shook beneath my skirt, sweat beading on my spine. This had to work.
“Now,” I whispered to Bastian.
He blinked at me slowly. The plan had been to ease into the moment, to socialize and eat first. But I couldn’t wait, the uncertainty was killing me.
He clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention. “There’s been a change to the plans. Astrid would like to meet with the candidates before we sit down to eat.”
I avoided looking at Trent, not wanting to know what he was thinking, but I could feel his glower prickling the back of my neck.
There was a surprised murmur and the crowd parted. Those not participating took their place around the wall. Three men were left in the center of the room.
Bastian continued, warming up to his role as host. “The three clans represented by their alphas are Fireglen, Crestfall, and Skyblade. Each alpha may ask the Seer one question, and in return she may also ask one of her own.”
Showtime. Forcing myself to stroll as if I didn’t have a care in the world, I made my way up to the Fireglen alpha. He was tall and broad, classically handsome with a dark, brooding look to him that probably had girls sighing and clutching their chests. My eyes slid over the other candidates. Huh. Not a dud between them. The Crestfall alpha was blond, with golden skin and flashing blue eyes. Skyblade's alpha was a mixture of the two, his hair more of a honey brown.
And they all did absolutely nothing for me. Nada. Zilch. Diddlysquat.
The Fireglen alpha cleared his throat, bringing my attention back to him. He was scowling, obviously not used to fighting for a woman’s attention. He opened his mouth to speak and I held my hand up.
“Just so you know, I’m going to read each of you. If you don’t agree to this, then you can step down now. Your questions can come after.” I stated it firmly, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Then I folded my arms over my chest and waited.
All three men stood firm, eyeing each other with grim determination.
Grandstanding idiots. I quashed the grin, pleased that they’d submitted to my request. It would make things easier.
I concentrated on the first man, reading his surface thoughts with ease and almost burst into laughter. “Really? Madonna? I would have pegged you as more of a rock kind of guy.”
A smug smile curled his lips as he stared at me.
“How much does my brother owe you?” I fired off the question with a big smile.
His mental soundtrack faltered, and I swooped in, plucking out the information I needed from the surface of his mind. “Thank you,” I murmured, smiling sweetly at him before moving onto my next victim.
Alpha number two swallowed, his grin faltering under my stare.
“What? No singing?” This guy was reciting the alphabet in a monotone that made me want to bang my head against a wall in protest. At least the first guy had entertained me.
His grin widened, his mental voice dialing up to a shout.
“How much does Bastian owe you?”
F, G, H, I, J…
His grin was nearly splitting his face by now.
“What’s your favorite color?”
Pink.
Huh. Hadn’t seen that one coming, I’d pegged him for a greens and blues kind of guy. But I’d gotten what I needed.
Moving on.
“Bastian doesn’t owe me anything.”
I rocked back on my heels, eyeing the third alpha who was looking pretty pleased with himself. “Okay.” I replied. He wasn’t bothering to shield his thoughts, instead giving me a full view of exactly what he thought of me. I stumbled back a step, cutting off the connection, but not before he’d had the chance to give me a front row seat to how he was planning on breaking me in. His words.
I met Bastian’s eyes; I had what we needed.
“It’s my turn to ask a question—” the first alpha declared, taking a step forward.
“No.”
I spun around to see Trent striding toward us. No, go back. I’ve got this! I mentally begged him, but he didn’t stop until he was standing by my side.
“I offer myself instead. Indentured service to one of you for however long you see fit. And in return, that alpha will guarantee Astrid’s freedom by paying off Jewelcrest’s debt.”
What?
The blond alpha—Crestfall? I was getting confused—scowled at Trent. “Why would we consider such an idiotic idea?”
“Because I’m the alpha of the Greenwing clan.”
What? I spun to glare at my brother, but he just shrugged. And then it hit me, the other alphas looked to actually be considering the idea! What was I missing?
“Trent, no,” I hissed, grabbing his arm and attempting to drag him away. But it was like trying to move a mountain, a deliciously suited, stubborn mountain.
“I have to do this, Astrid.” His eyes pleaded with me to understand.
And I did. He was giving up his life for me, offering himself in my place. Whoever accepted his offer would utilize him as an enforcer for their clan, someone who was expendable to do the dirty work. The dangerous work. And he wouldn’t be allowed a life of his own, always at the beck and call of another.
“But … why are they even considering i
t?”
“Because the Greenwing clan are different from other dragon shifters. We are gifted with extra strength and power that makes us almost invincible in a fight. And our dragon fire can burn other dragons.” He added the last as almost an afterthought.
“What?” Geez, I was starting to sound like a broken record, but really? How did I not know this?
“And a Greenwing alpha…” one of the alphas—I’d given up trying to remember which—murmured, his voice low and sounding a little too interested for my liking.
I yanked on Trent’s arm, dragging his attention back to me. “So, fight for me! If you’re so strong and powerful—”
“And disgraced,” someone called out.
I would have spun around, but this time Trent held me still.
“What do they mean?” I whispered. Disgraced?
Pain pooled in his eyes. “My great-grandfather dishonored our clan, he took another man’s mate.”
“What?”
“It was a Jewelcrest woman.”
That explained why he felt he owed Bastian a debt, but… “That’s archaic bullshit! Every generation should pay for what one man did?” I poked him in the chest, not angry at him, I was angry for him. I knew exactly how it would have gone; Trent would have risen to alpha, accepted the responsibility of his great-grandfather’s dishonor, carrying it until he could find a way to discharge the debt and clear his clan’s name. And my brother hadn’t batted an eyelid at using him. I didn’t have the words to describe what I thought of the people gathered here. Idiots? Imbeciles? Morons? Cavemen? But what cut the deepest… “You gave up on us because of—”
He cut me off, his voice a low murmur, “I came to my senses when I got to know you. I realized pretty damn fast that you wouldn’t care. But then all this happened.” He gestured at the crowd of people around us, including the men who my brother owed more money to than I could ever hope to see in this lifetime. “Let me ask you this, do you really want me to fight everyone? Jewelcrest would still owe the money … and where is the honor in killing? The debt has to be paid. There’s nothing written to say you have to be the one to pay it.” He glanced over my shoulder.
