by Hawke Oakley
Here we were, just two guys walking down the street. An alpha and an omega.
More like a hot alpha and an ugly omega.
People were already staring, not that I wasn’t used to that in my life. Ryu seemed a bit puzzled at all the gazes but didn’t mention it.
Tired of walking in silence, I asked, “Why do you want to go down to the pond?”
“Oh. I sort of have a date tomorrow night, so I was thinking maybe we could check it out beforehand. See what’s in the area, you know?” Ryu said.
For some reason, a pang of mild jealousy knotted my chest. Then I quickly grew angry with myself. I had no reason to be jealous of Ryu—of course he’d have no trouble getting a date. He was a young, attractive alpha. It wasn’t his fault that nobody would ever dream of asking me on a date.
“A date, huh?” I grunted. “Sounds fun.”
“Yeah!” Ryu said obliviously. Too excited to notice my bad energy, he went on. “Actually, you know who he is—it’s Henry, from the other night.”
I stopped walking. “Henry? That little omega from my bar?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He came to my school today. We got to talking and had a short magic lesson, then he asked me out,” Ryu said. “Actually, I haven’t had a date in a while, so it’s pretty exciting.”
My brows raised in surprise. Ryu was a skilled dragon shifter in his prime, not to mention his kind personality and good humor—omegas without a mate should’ve been clamoring all over him.
But I guess Henry is the one clamoring over him now.
“Weird. I would’ve thought you’d never be without a date,” I said gruffly.
“How so?” Ryu asked. This time, he was the one to look surprised.
“You’re kidding, right?” I gestured to him. “Look at you. You could be on the cover of some magazine.”
Ryu burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I growled.
“Wow, no one’s ever said that to me before,” he said, still grinning.
“I don’t get what you’re laughing about. You’re an attractive alpha, Ryu,” I said sternly. “Not only that, but you’re a good guy. Not like those asshole alphas who always show up at my bar.”
He seemed taken aback by my words. He glanced away sheepishly and said, “Thanks, Scar. That’s quite nice of you.”
“Not being nice. Just honest,” I grunted.
The street bustled with early evening crowds. A cool breeze stirred the warm night, and the air was filled with scents of food from nearby restaurants and snack stands. I would have enjoyed it all much more if it weren’t so busy with people. Crowds made me anxious. Too many people, too many things that could go wrong.
Too many people to stare at me like I was diseased.
“You hungry? Because that place is just begging my stomach to come closer,” Ryu asked, gesturing to a soft pretzel stand.
A snack wasn’t a bad idea. At least it would clear my mind. “Sure.”
“Welcome, take your time,” the stand owner said.
“We’ll have two, please,” Ryu said as he slapped down enough coins. “One regular and one… What kind do you like, Scar?”
The pretzel man perked up at the sound of my name, then looked me up and down.
I bristled in agitation. Yeah, I know it’s a weird name. Bite me.
“Scar?” Ryu asked again.
“I like the powdered sugar ones,” I mumbled.
“Sweet tooth, huh?” Ryu said, smiling. “One powdered sugar and one regular, please.”
“Coming right up…” The man placed both our pretzels into paper napkins and handed them to Ryu.
“This looks so good. Here, Scar.”
But as Ryu handed me the pretzel, he misjudged something important. I was on his right side, meaning the arm closest to him was my prosthetic—not the best at handling delicate motions like holding a soft item.
The napkin slipped right through my artificial fingers. The pretzel fell to the ground faster than I could react. Ryu gasped. His wide eyes flickered back and forth between my prosthetic hand and the dirty pretzel between our feet.
“Oh, Scar, I’m so sorry,” he said, horrified.
Instantly I flinched at the sympathy in his voice. That was the last thing I ever wanted to hear from him.
“It’s fine, it was just an accident,” I said stiffly.
“No, it’s all my fault,” Ryu insisted. “I should have known better.”
My mouth tightened as the irritation built inside me. If he started treating me like a sad victim, I had no problem walking home right now.
“Let me get you another one,” Ryu said, turning to the stand owner. “Could I get a replacement, please?”
The man shrugged. “You have to pay if you want another. Not my fault he can’t hold things properly.”
Anger shot up my spine like electricity. “What?”
“You heard me,” the man grunted, staring at my hand.
“What the hell is your problem?” I snarled.
Ryu put his hand on my shoulder. “Wait, Scar. He’s not worth the effort.”
The man just shrugged.
I yanked away from Ryu’s grip and stormed away. He chased after me. “Scar, wait!”
“What?” I growled when he caught up.
“I’m sorry that guy was so rude,” he said.
“Don’t be sorry. Not your fault.”
“And I’m also sorry about—”
I whipped around to face him. “Sorry about what?”
I stared into his dark eyes. Years of experience taught me I could intimidate people by towering over them and staring them in the eye long enough. Even alphas. Maybe this way I could finally make Ryu fuck off. Maybe he would stop trying to be my friend, and go back to his perfect life with his magic skills and his new boyfriend Henry.
But Ryu didn’t back down. He met my gaze calmly and took a deep breath. “It was my mistake. I forgot about your arm. I’m sorry.”
If I was in my wolf form right now, all the fur on my body would be standing on end with anger. “How many times are you gonna apologize to me?” I snapped.
He blinked in confusion. “Pardon?”
“I’m tired of hearing it,” I growled. “Sorry this, sorry that. It gets annoying. You don’t have to apologize all the time just because I’m fucked up and not normal.”
“What?” He gasped. “Scar, I don’t think that about you at all.”
“Maybe not on purpose, but trust me, your subconscious does,” I muttered. I began walking away but Ryu cut me off, and for the first time I saw something resembling anger cross his face.
“Now, hold on! Don’t assume you know what I think. You’re not in my head, Scar.”
“I don’t have to assume, I know,” I snapped. “It’s what you think because it’s what everyone thinks. Poor Scar, with his ugly fucked up body. Let’s feel bad for him all the time! And don’t look so naive and confused—you saw the way that guy stared at me.”
Ryu paused. The conflict dissipated from his expression. “Yes, I did. He had no right to treat you that way.”
“It doesn’t matter what people have rights to do or not. They all act like that. They look at me like I’m diseased or contagious. Look!” I gestured to the faces in the crowd all staring at us.
A circle of strangers surrounded us. Every pair of eyes watched, unblinking. It made my skin crawl. My chest tightened and I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to lash out, or disappear—and the latter was always safest.
I’d already learned my lesson fifteen years ago that fighting only got me hurt. I just needed to retreat and be alone like I always was.
I needed to escape.
Ryu lowered his voice. “Scar, I think they’re staring because we’re making a scene.”
“I don’t care,” I snapped. “I’m going home. Thanks for the night out.”
Without looking back, I stormed off. I didn’t hear him chase after me this time.
I slipped into a back al
ley to hide from the crowds. My chest heaved with heavy, panicked breaths. Leaning against the brick wall for support, I squeezed my eyes shut and took a moment to recover. I hated being stared at. But being stared at while I fought with one of the only people to consider me his friend was even worse.
It’s better this way. Ryu would go home, stung but otherwise fine. He’d recover. He had other friends—better friends than me. Maybe I’d lose his business, but I could deal with that. He wasn’t much of a drinker anyway.
Suddenly I remembered that Ryu wasn’t alone anymore. He had a date tomorrow. An omega boyfriend. Soon they’d be getting pregnant and making babies. Fated mates and all that shit.
Good riddance to both of them. Have a great life.
As I stumbled through the alley, caught up in my bitter thoughts, I didn’t hear the footsteps creeping up behind me. It was only when I heard the familiar barking voice that I fumbled to a stop.
“So, here you are, creeping around in an alley like a rat,” Mav sneered.
I growled. Dealing with the bastard alpha from previous night was the last thing I wanted to do right now. “What do you want?”
He pointed aggressively to his cheek, which bloomed a deep purple. “Remember this?”
I must have punched him harder than I thought. “Yeah, I do. I’m surprised you remember with how drunk you were last night.”
Mav scowled. “You think you can just punch a customer and get away with it? I think I deserve some kind of compensation. That, or retribution.”
I barked a humorless laugh. “Retribution? What, you want to hit me back? Is this grade school?”
Mav didn’t reply. He launched himself at me, yelling and holding his fist out. I sidestepped it easily.
“Are you still drunk?” I asked. “My grandma could throw a better punch, and she’s six feet under.”
Mav’s face twisted in rage. “Shut up, you cripple!”
The word was a harder slap in the face than anything Mav could ever physically do. I stumbled, stunned by the slur. Mav rushed forward and got a free punch in. The force of it knocked me to the ground. I groaned and struggled to get up, but the prosthetics hindered me from doing so.
“Not so tough now,” Mav muttered. “Why don’t you just stay there?”
“Eat shit,” I snapped.
Mav growled and withdrew his foot to kick me while I was down when Ryu’s voice cut through the alley.
“Stop!”
Mav stopped and stumbled back. “You! You’re that guy from last night!”
Ryu ran up to me, ignoring Mav. “Scar, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I can handle a punch,” I muttered.
Ryu helped me stand up and this time I didn’t complain. I appreciated his assistance.
“What are you doing attacking him?” Ryu demanded.
“An eye for an eye,” Mav spat. “He punched me, so I’m just returning the favor.”
“He punched you because you were harassing an omega in his bar! Maybe you should’ve kept your hands to yourself!”
Mav stormed up to Ryu and glared down at him. A few inches of height separated them. Mav was clearly trying to intimidate Ryu, but the shorter alpha didn’t back down—the same way he didn’t back down to me earlier. I admired his spirit.
“Do you have a problem?” Mav sneered. “Because the cripple and I can solve this problem on our own.”
A flash of light exploded in the alley, illuminating everything. Mav stumbled back with a yelp. I narrowed my eyes against the light and grappled onto the wall to stabilize myself. When the light faded, Ryu was gone—and in his place stood a huge serpentine dragon with white horns, whip-like whiskers and a mouth full of teeth.
“Don’t you ever say that word again!” Ryu snarled, his voice distorted and draconic. It sent a deep shiver down my spine.
“What the fuck?” Mav cried. “What are you, some kind of weird snake?”
Ryu’s dragon let loose a primal roar, the kind that chilled you to the bone. He slashed the ground by Mav’s feet with his three claws, leaving streaks in the concrete.
“I am a dragon,” Ryu cried. “And if you have a problem with my friend, then you have a problem with me.”
Mav’s eyes went wide as he scrambled to back up. Ryu hissed, a frightening sound more similar to a komodo dragon than a cat.
“Whatever you are, stay the hell away from me!” Mav shrieked. He climbed to his feet and ran off. Ryu let him go.
Still in his dragon form, Ryu glanced down at me. “Are you okay, Scar?”
“Yeah,” I said. I couldn’t hide the trembling in my voice.
With a glow of soft light, he shifted back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before offering me a hand up. When I got to my feet, I realized my body was trembling.
“You’re shaking,” Ryu said. The corners of his mouth were turned down in concern.
“I’ll be fine,” I mumbled.
Before this, I’d always thought of Ryu as a small alpha. But now as he stood right before me, I realized he wasn’t small at all—he was almost as tall as I was. Not only that, but his entire aura had completely changed. He wasn’t some weak little alpha like I thought he was.
No, Ryu was a powerful, fierce dragon.
I blinked as he firmly held my gaze.
Had he always been so handsome, too?
“Scar?” Ryu asked again. He gripped my arms just enough to get my attention. I noticed I’d been staring at him.
“I’m okay,” I said, shaking my head.
What the hell am I doing?
My mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts right now, and I needed to leave before it got any worse. Splaying across the couch with a cold alcoholic drink would clear my thoughts, the same way it always did.
“You don’t seem well,” Ryu said. “Let me take you home.”
The instinctive part of me wanted to snap, No, I can do it myself!
But the words wouldn’t leave my mouth. My throat dried up. It was like the sight of the beautiful dragon had shaken me to my core. I was spellbound. All I wanted was to be near Ryu right now.
And that scared the hell out of me.
Ryu seemed oblivious to my mental plight. He lead me gently by the arm to break my daze. “Come on. Let’s take you home.”
Strangely, I didn’t argue. And that freaked me out even more. I’d lived the past fifteen years as a combative antisocial wreck, and suddenly one night with Ryu had changed something in me. I didn’t like change. I feared change.
Whatever was happening with Ryu, I needed to stop it as soon as possible.
6
Ryu
“This is the place.”
The building Scar gestured to was old and a bit run-down—not dilapidated by any means, but it had clearly seen better days. It was a three-story apartment with greyed out bricks and worn wood.
Most of the dragons in Cinderhollow lived in tall, tower-like buildings, while the other non-dragon shifters from outside the tribe usually resided somewhere similar to their original home. I knew Scar originally came from Stoneheart pack, a place that hadn’t treated him so nicely during his time there. I wonder if that had anything to do with the shabby appearance of his apartment here.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll take you inside.”
I expected him to argue. His face whipped towards me, as if in the beginning of a retort, but nothing came out. He just sighed and nodded.
Weird, I thought. “Which floor is yours?”
“Third,” he mumbled. Defensively, he added, “And yeah, I know it’s ironic with my bad leg.”
“I wasn’t thinking that,” I said honestly. “But since I’m assuming there’s no elevator, I am going to help you up the stairs.”
His brows raised somewhat suspiciously. “You are?”
“Yes. And it’s not because of your leg.” I nodded at his prosthetic.
Still on edge, he asked, “Why, then?”
I leaned down. Scar tensed.
�
��Your ankle is twisted,” I said, pointing to his biological one. “So you would have a hard time making it up the stairs even if you didn’t have a prosthetic.” Gently, I added, “I’m just helping you the same I would do for any other friend.”
He perked up at the word. Then he muttered, “Fine.”
We made our way up a short set of concrete steps, then into the front door. A small lobby smelling of dust and damp stone greeted us. The scent wasn’t unpleasant, but I was glad my home didn’t smell like it. A large, wide staircase lead up to the ascending floors. I was surprised to see only one door on the main floor, besides the janitor’s closet.
“Is it one apartment per floor?” I asked, trying to make conversation.
“Yeah,” Scar grunted as I helped him climb the first few steps.
“Do you know your neighbors?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Karen. She’s nice, I guess. She gets worried when I get home late, even though I’ve told her a million times I run a bar that closes in the early hours.”
I smiled. “That’s kind of her.”
“I guess so. She’s a bit much sometimes. Always asking me when I’m going to find a nice alpha and settle down. I’ve told her that’s not gonna happen a million times, too.”
I frowned at Scar’s comment. I was about to tell him that wasn’t true when he continued speaking.
“Anyway, she’s nicer than old man Pete.” He rolled his eyes, scowling. “He lives underneath me. He’s always complaining about my leg, saying he can hear it thump all the time. Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do about that?”
“Maybe he should get earplugs,” I suggested.
“That’s what I said!” Scar paused. “Well, maybe in not as nice terms.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “He might listen better if you omit some not as nice terms from your vocabulary.”
A slight smile tugged at Scar’s lips as he told me to “F off.”
As we breached the second floor, Scar ducked his head and mumbled in a quiet voice, “Speak of the devil.”
Standing halfway in the door was Pete. He narrowed his eyes at us. I put on my best customer-service smile and said, “Good evening.”
Pete grunted. “Who’re you?” Before I could answer, his glare whipped to Scar. “You drunk again?”
