The dragon and the swan had done better than Sebastian could have anticipated.
Of course, much of the credit belonged to him. He had helped them, after all.
His destination was Paris, the city he loved best. Paris was constant in a way that made Sebastian feel young again. It changed, to be sure, but in its heart, the part he loved the best, the pace of change was very slow. His favorite cities shared that trait. Paris. New Orleans. London, to some extent. Budapest. Venice. He really should visit Istanbul again. It had been a long, long time.
He walked down the Champs Elysées at night, savoring the press of people, the sound of music and laughter, the smell of food and women’s perfumes. The vivacity surrounding him was thrilling. He’d feasted upon a wreck of humanity, unable to completely abandon Micah’s principles by putting a homeless derelict out of his misery. The fresh infusion of blood thrummed through him like a fine wine, giving him an uncharacteristic sense of optimism.
The French loved tradition as much as Sebastian did. The great-great granddaughter of the lawyer he’d hired a century before still managed the family business. Like her forebears, she was amenable to an evening meeting. He suspected that she kept the same excellent brandy in the wood-paneled office.
His step quickened as the hour of their meeting drew near. He moved quickly down the familiar streets, diving deep into the quarter to the townhouse he had visited so many times. The light was on in the office on the second floor, its golden light a beacon to him.
Soon, he would hold the key.
Soon, his sanctuary would be his again.
He rapped on the door and was ushered in by a secretary with downcast eyes and shown to the stairs. “I know the way, thank you,” he said in French and the secretary inclined his head, then vanished into an office on the main floor.
He tapped once on the door of the office and heard the lawyer’s invitation from inside. He opened the door with a flourish and a smile, only to freeze in astonishment.
The lawyer was there, of course, standing behind the desk every lawyer in her family had used, the walls behind her thick with books bound in leather. She was impeccably groomed as always, dressed in a dark suit, her hair twisted up, tasteful small diamonds at her earlobes. The bottle of brandy was on a small table before the fireplace, but there were three glasses on the tray, the cut crystal catching the firelight.
And Sylvia rose from her seat beside the fire. She looked a bit tired and was dressed more casually than the lawyer. But she smiled at him and Sebastian found himself in awe of her presence.
“I brought the key,” she said as the lawyer watched. “Micah preferred a courier for such a precious item and I volunteered.”
She held out the antique gold key and Sebastian stared at it. “You shouldn’t have,” he said, hearing that his tone was brusque.
She laughed a little. “No, probably not, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.”
“You’ve done quite well resisting it in the past.”
“Time for a change.”
He met Sylvia’s gaze and was surprised to find her eyes filled with confidence. He wondered how much the lawyer understood: her expression was impassive but he knew she was bilingual.
“Show me your library?” Sylvia asked.
Sebastian frowned and glanced toward the fire.
“It must be very special,” she continued softly. “I love libraries. You know that. And I’ve come all this way.”
He moved closer to her, risking the alluring scent of her and his own temptation. “You have to understand that I don’t play by Micah’s rules anymore.”
Sylvia’s smile broadened. “But that’s why I volunteered,” she confessed. He stared at her, amazed that she knew what he was and who he was, yet had come anyway.
He reached for the key, but she withdrew it. “I want your promise that we’re done with games and riddles. I want to know the truth, all of it.”
“The truth always comes at a price,” he warned her.
“Of course. And I suspect it might take a long time to share this particular truth.” She held out the key, her eyes filled with a wisdom that hadn’t been there when they’d met and he knew that she was prepared for whatever he might show her. He still felt protective of her, but he welcomed the prospect of companionship. “Maybe centuries.”
And there it was. He might turn her, but she recognized that and had come to terms with it. Maybe she even welcomed it.
Sebastian frowned. “You can’t change your mind about something like this, you know.”
“I know. But I need a tutor, and I think you might be the perfect one.” She held his gaze and he heard an ancient name echo in her thoughts, a name he’d never expected to be openly associated with him again. Semyaza.
She knew. The magick had betrayed him somehow, just as he’d guessed it always would.
But Sylvia knew the truth and she’d chosen him.
And that meant the responsibility for her fate wasn’t entirely his own. Sebastian smiled, unable to disguise the pleasure he felt, then lifted the key from her grasp. “We could go there now.”
“Yes,” she said simply and he closed one hand over the key as he put it in his pocket. He held it there, so glad to have it in his possession again. Then he took Sylvia’s hand in his, ensuring that he controlled his strength. He inclined his head to the lawyer and thanked her, then made a future appointment to review several investments.
The brandy would wait.
His step was light when he and Sylvia stepped into the street together, and Paris sparkled all around them, as filled with promise as a glass of champagne.
“You’re sure?” he asked and Sylvia nodded.
“You have a private library,” she confessed with a smile, her gaze dancing over him.
“Your ulterior motive,” he teased. “You want to catalogue my collection.”
“More than that. I want to be with you, Sebastian, in every way. I want to hear all of your story. I want you to teach me everything you know.” Her smile turned mischievous. “But we can read when we don’t have anything else to do.”
And, much to his own surprise, the prospect of that adventure suited Sebastian just fine.
Days and nights passed without a word from Rania’s brothers. Rania and Hadrian had chosen to remain in Iceland in the hope that they might appear there. Each night, while Rania slept, Hadrian went outside the cottage and looked at the sky overhead. He’d checked in with the Pyr and had been relieved that they were okay. Alasdair had taken Yasmina to his lair in Scotland, and didn’t want to be disturbed. Kade had been delivered to Drake for instruction and review. Rhys and Kristofer had retreated to their respective lairs, and Theo was helping out at the Circus of Wonders as they rebuilt.
Hadrian was glad to be alone with Rania for the moment.
Each night, he shifted shape and coiled himself around the cottage in his dragon form, his chin resting on his tail just outside the front door. He could watch the opening in the outer wall from there. Usually, Rania joined him, curling into his claw, telling him stories of all she’d seen and done over the centuries, or just being with him.
It was idyllic, with the exception of Rania’s concern for her brothers.
The Pyr were planning to gather on the solstice for Hadrian’s scale repair, so Rania and Hadrian returned to Northumberland before going to Vermont. On their first morning back at his lair, Hadrian heard a man whistling. It was snowing lightly and the wind was up. The snow had started to fall in the early hours of the morning and it was gathering in the trees. Rania was sleeping deeply beside him and Hadrian was watching the snow fall over the stream. At the sound of the whistle, he felt himself shimmering on the cusp of change, but slipped from the bed and went to the door.
A man was approaching the lair with purpose. He was blond and tall, a handsome man of maybe thirty years of age.
Hadrian opened the door to greet him and the man smiled. “Hadrian!” he said, as if they were old friends, and
strode forward with his hand extended. “How’s Rania? Is her pregnancy going well?”
“Edred,” Hadrian guessed and the new arrival laughed.
“I forgot you wouldn’t know, and the big clue is still behind me.” He grinned and rolled his eyes. “Lazy bunch of brothers.”
Hadrian heard footsteps then and men calling. In moments, he was surrounded by twelve good-looking young men, all healthy and all with the same clear blue eyes as Rania. Each one, when he looked closely, had a mark on his left wrist, as if something had burned the skin. Rania was obviously awakened by their arrival and came out to be greeted with joy, hugged and kissed and lifted off her feet. She was passed from brother to brother despite her protests then surrendered to Hadrian again.
“Where were you?” she demanded of Edred. “What took you so long?”
“We ended up in northern Spain, near our favorite places to stop on migration,” he told her, then gestured to himself. “But like this without any of the identification people seem to love now.”
“But how did you get here?”
“We stowed away on a freighter that seemed a bit shady, then worked for our passage. Then we hitchhiked north.”
“How did you know to come here?” Hadrian asked and the thirteen siblings all smiled.
“We’ve been here before,” Edred said with a mysterious smile.
“When,” she asked and he grinned at her.
“Haven’t you guessed yet?” Edred asked, his tone teasing. “The ruins in the town near here are from the castle our father stole, all those years ago.” He gave her a little squeeze and his voice roughened. “I like that your home is close to where it all began. I like that it all came right in the end.”
“Me, too.” Rania was blushing and blinking back tears. “You must be starving,” she said and urged them inside.
“No millet,” one brother said and they all laughed together as they crowded into the house. It was good to see Rania laughing and happy, surrounded by the family she’d lost and found again. Hadrian smiled as he followed, knowing that they were starting their own family, too. The future was bright—because the firestorm had been right all along.
Epilogue
On the winter solstice, the Pyr gathered at Bones for Hadrian’s scale repair. Hadrian and Rania flew to New York from Iceland in her plane. He was impressed with her piloting abilities and already thinking about getting his own license. He liked it much better than commercial travel.
For the first time, there were other shifters in attendance at the ceremony, as well as twelve mortal men. The coven of mercy had left their refuge for the evening to witness the festivities. The wolf shifters of Manhattan were there, along with Wynter Olson and the mortal mates from Alaska. Edred had come with another of Rania’s brothers at her invitation and stood a little apart from the throngs of Others. She’d invited her father, too, and Hadrian was a bit disappointed that the swan-prince hadn’t chosen to come. The djinns were in a celebratory mood—both Niall and Sloane had been conferring with Yasmina about Alasdair’s treatment. Hadrian thought that his cousin just needed more time with Yasmina. Murray and Mel were pouring drinks as quickly as they could, and many from the Circus of Wonders had shown up as well. The bar was crowded and the mood was festive.
When Quinn arrived with Sara and his small forge, there was a welcoming cheer from the Pyr. Sara and Quinn’s sons had gone to stay with Erik and Eileen in Chicago. Murray shouted to clear the dance floor and it was done more quickly than Hadrian would have expected. Quinn set up his forge and shifted shape, becoming a dragon of sapphire and steel. The sight of him working with such care at the jeweler’s forge silenced the Others in attendance. They stood in a ring around the dance floor, obviously fascinated.
Theo was the next to shift, becoming a dragon of carnelian and gold. The Others applauded his transformation and he blew a small stream of dragonfire, to their delight. Thorolf shifted next, becoming a massive dragon of moonstone and silver, followed by Balthasar, who was citrine and gold in his dragon form. Arach left Wynter and the light of their firestorm diminished slightly with distance. Hadrian knew he didn’t imagine that Arach took his alternate form with gusto, becoming a dragon of aquamarine and silver. If showing off would help with that firestorm, Hadrian wished him luck.
Alasdair was next, becoming a dragon of hematite and silver. Yasmina stroked his scaled side with admiration and he visibly preened, then swept his tail across the floor. He was looking more vital with every passing day. Would he have a firestorm with Yasmina once he was recovered? Hadrian hoped so. He wanted his cousin to be happy.
Kristofer changed shape next, taking his peridot and gold dragon form. Bree stood beside him, clearly proud of her dragon warrior, and Hadrian thought he could see the start of her baby bump. Rhys was next, becoming a dragon of garnet and silver. He’d catered the scale repair, his team having delivered many huge trays of food for the celebration afterward.
Then Hadrian took Rania’s hand. He smiled at her and loved how she smiled back at him, then changed shape in a brilliant shimmer of blue. If he was showing off a bit, too, he thought it was deserved. His emerald and silver scales shone in the light, but when he would have breathed fire, Murray protested.
“Remember the fire code!” the bar owner cried. “Keep the temperature down, please. It’s hot enough with so many dragons in here.”
The crowd laughed, their anticipation palpable.
Mel gave Quinn the scale that Hadrian had lost, and the Smith of the Pyr began to heat it on his forge. Rania presented her katar to Quinn for the repair of the scale. Hadrian particularly liked the weapon, a push dagger with gold ornamentation, and liked that it had played a part in breaking Maeve’s spell forever. He was honored that it would be fused with his scale, a gift from his mate to ensure that he was armed.
Quinn straightened and turned, the scale glowing red in his talons. “Fire!” he cried, and the Pyr echoed the word. “One of Hadrian’s affinities, a sign of passion and his very nature.” Hadrian made a little plume of dragonfire, despite Murray’s earlier protests.
“Earth,” Quinn said then and pressed the hot scale into the gap on Hadrian’s chest. “Governing his smithing abilities and his practicality.” The skin scorched and Hadrian tipped his head back, exhaling dragonsmoke instead of fire.
“Air,” Sara said and Hadrian felt Rania blow upon the hot scale. “One of the affinities his mate brings to the union, symbolic of intellect and problem-solving.”
“Water,” Rania whispered and Hadrian caught his breath as her tear fell on the scale, cooling it. He opened his eyes to find her smiling up at him, her hand on his claw. “The affinity I only regained because of my dragon shifter, who thawed the splinter of ice embedded in my heart. Because of him, I can love again.”
The Others cheered at this sentiment and Hadrian shifted shape in a glorious blaze of blue light. He caught Rania up and kissed her thoroughly, knowing that he was the luckiest Pyr alive.
The firestorm had made his every dream come true.
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About the Author
Deborah Cooke sold her first book in 1992, a medieval romance published under her pseudonym Claire Delacroix. Since then, she has published over fifty novels in a wide variety of sub-genres, including historical romance, contemporary romance, paranormal romance, fantasy romance, time-travel romance, women’s fiction, paranormal young adult and fantasy with romantic elements. She has published under the names Claire Delacroix, Claire Cross and Deborah Cooke. The Beauty, part of her successful Bride Quest series of historical romances, was her fir
st title to land on the New York Times List of Bestselling Books. Her books routinely appear on other bestseller lists and have won numerous awards. In 2009, she was the writer-in-residence at the Toronto Public Library, the first time the library has hosted a residency focused on the romance genre. In 2012, she was honored to receive the Romance Writers of America’s Mentor of the Year Award.
Currently, she writes paranormal romances and contemporary romances under the name Deborah Cooke. She also writes medieval romances as Claire Delacroix. Deborah lives in Canada with her husband and family, as well as far too many unfinished knitting projects.
Visit Deborah’s Website and Blog
Visit the Dragonfire Website and Blog
Visit Claire Delacroix’s Website and Blog
More Paranormal Romance
Paranormal Romances:
The Dragonfire Novels
KISS OF FIRE
KISS OF FURY
KISS OF FATE
WINTER KISS
Harmonia’s Kiss
WHISPER KISS
DARKFIRE KISS
FLASHFIRE
EMBER’S KISS
Kiss of Danger
Kiss of Darkness
Kiss of Destiny
SERPENT’S KISS
FIRESTORM FOREVER
HERE BE DRAGONS: A Dragonfire Companion
The DragonFate Novels
Maeve’s Book of Beasts
DRAGON’S KISS
DRAGON’S HEART
DRAGON’S MATE
Paranormal Young Adult:
Dragon's Mate: A DragonFate Novel (The DragonFate Novels Book 4) Page 33
