Fire of Stars and Dragons

by Melissa Petreshock

  “We have a matter of great concern to discuss,” he states with no preamble of greeting, quite unlike Father, and his expression is disturbing. “In regards to Miss Hayden,” he adds, and I pick up my Sky Book, preferring to act as though I’m busy rather than continue this discussion.

  Without raising my eyes, I can sense Oliver stepping nearer my desk. “You know my loyalty has always been to you, Corrin; however, alliances and loyalties alter…”

  I snap my head up, attention on him at once. “You aren’t…”

  “Not me, I am still loyal to you, Corrin, but Theo has crossed onto the path he is meant to follow. His honor binds him to protect the girl, as loyal to her as I am you.”

  An unexpected turn of events, never had I imagined one of the four brothers meant to protect someone else. “How do you see this influencing my intent?”

  “I will assist you in any way within my purview to achieve your desired goal, but if he sees advances toward her as threatening her or her destiny, he will attempt to deflect them, although he cannot prevent Miss Hayden’s free will. As with any of us, Theo can only intervene with threats on her well-being; however, given she is female, his natural protective instincts will heighten well beyond our typical state.” His tone falls deathly serious. “Under such circumstances, my own brother would turn on me if he believed it necessary, Corrin.”

  “Then since I desire no harm come to her, you have nothing to fear,” I assure him.

  My dragon holds his eyes on me, unflinching. “Frankly, I am unsure you understand quite the gravity of the situation. As I explained to Cedric, unless your intentions toward her are honorable, your efforts showing her genuine affection and earning hers, he may deem your actions as harmful to Miss Hayden, not physically so, but emotionally, and react as if you pose a threat. My apologies, Sire, for advising your interest toward her in our meeting this morning, but a name and simple information on a court docket tells me nothing in regards to one’s potential as a ward. Had I known she were the human female Theo foresaw, I would have recommended against such inclinations to marry Miss Hayden.”

  I set down the tablet again, stand, pacing, and look out upon the city. Genuine affection. It is certain I have such for my family, Father and Evan, and Evan’s wife Runa as well. “How long do I have?”

  “Son, there is no measure for how a woman’s heart falls to favor one man or another,” my father replies in his gentle way, coming nearer.

  Shaking my head, I elaborate. “Of that, I am well aware. How long do I have to survive the way things stand with me now?” I ask, focusing on the gulls flying over the harbor in the distance, keeping my tone empty, detached, refusing to show the weakness of fear—the fear of my demise.

  Most knowledgeable and experienced in these matters, having seen this before, Oliver answers, though I do not doubt in some part, it is easier for him to speak of my death than my father or brother. “At most, a few months perhaps. The time you have depends a great deal on how well you have fed since… since the affliction first began.” He pauses, sighing, a rarity from my dragon. “In truth, it is far likelier you have a matter of weeks at best, Corrin.”

  I turn to confront him, to demand how he knows this, but come face-to-face with Father instead.

  “Corrin, why did you not tell me?” he asks, the pain heavy, breaking his voice. My brother joins him, standing at his shoulder, the hurt of not knowing etched in his features.

  “Because I remained determined to find another means to survive this, and if not, I do not want to meet my end feeling pitied.”

  “Then will you not try with Miss Hayden?” Evan begs of me, teary-eyed, and I cannot repress the jealous twinge at the sweet scent and sight of a milky-colored tear running down his cheek, the tell-tale sign of a vampire’s health. Mine must be water by now.

  “That is an excellent question. Do I die with my pride, forgoing such notions of love, feign disinterest in her, or indulge the frivolity of it on the faint chance she may be the answer to my survival?” I glance between Father and Evan before landing my sights on Oliver.

  “You have the traits of Cedric within you, Corrin. Do not be foolish enough to believe yourself incapable of love. However, having the ability and having the will are not equivalent. Choosing to pursue a dragon’s ward is dangerous, but I believe not impossible.” His voice lowers, eyes darkening. “I protect you as my ward, but know this is no game you play. You risk pitting me against my brother should you take this matter light in heart. Consider your feelings should someone force you to fight your brother to the death. Let that shed proper perspective.”

  *Cait*

  Once the porter had my belongings in the bedroom of my new temporary home, a penthouse apartment in the Back Bay neighborhood, and a housekeeper by the name of Daniella, wife of King Corrin’s primary chauffer, gave me a quick tour, the place cleared out, leaving me standing in the living room with Theo. Alone.

  “Where will you stay?”

  “Here, of course.”

  Oh my.

  We haven’t discussed the whole dragon/ward thing since what happened at my place. I don’t know his reasons for keeping quiet on the subject, but for me, loyalty, fidelity, and security in a package any living, breathing female would swoon over, love of the romantic variety or not— I can’t ignore the attractive practicality of it.

  “Dragons leave their wards alone on rare occasions, not at all in the first days of the bond, and a female? No.” His eyes never leave mine. I swallow hard. “Besides, part of what makes this apartment the best choice is that it is my primary residence and has remained so for quite some time. The agreement was to keep you safe, yet in a location of convenience, accessible to each of us.”

  “And having me living with you makes that accessibility equal?” Either, he has a strange sense of fairness or a great sense of humor. Both possibilities make me grin. “I doubt the king would think so.”

  “This is as equal as possible given Corrin is king. Dante and I share this apartment, a privilege of my rank and our friendship, though his occupancy tends toward the infrequent.” A small gasp escapes me, learning of our shared living arrangement, but he makes no remark. “There are two residences here on the top floor, and the other is Corrin’s. The king owns the floor below as well, for security, other staff, and various uses as seen fit by him.”

  Theo’s tone when explaining the lower floor gives the impression that something the king uses the downstairs for doesn’t suit him, but I don’t care. King Corrin’s pursuits are none of my business and aren’t likely to be. Fair chance or not, I’d say Hades will convert the Underworld into an ice skating rink before the king has a personality makeover.

  “Well this should be interesting. A dragon and a demigod living with me for the next… however long this takes.” I smirk. “You two have fun.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches. A flash of his lips on mine burns in my memory, and I intake a sharp breath. The smile creeping across his face breaks out in full, and his green eyes glitter. “I quite imagine we will. For now, I must make a few phone calls. I will be in the office should you need me. Make yourself comfortable, Cait.” He nods, walking away, then turns back. “Do make yourself at home. This is your home for as long as necessary, Cait. I did not intend to imply you are a guest.”

  “I know.”

  Theo stands there, not moving, as if he’s uncertain where he wants to be, or if he wants to walk away from me, even into another room. “Dante will join you for dinner. I shall speak with Oliver regarding Corrin’s intentions, when he plans to see you.” With a quick nod, he disappears down the hall.

  In less than thirty seconds, I raid the kitchen for a bottle of wine, though it takes longer to find a wine glass and the corkscrew. The whole apartment is too quiet; I can’t even hear Theo’s voice as he talks, assuming he is on the phone. Scanning my thumb on the wall-mounted SylvrSky panel, I scroll through my playlists and choose music to suit my odd mood: a bit sad to leave my home behind, yet h
opeful what this new chapter in life might bring.

  The cork gives me more trouble than I’d like, and I’m wrestling it out of the bottle when every light in the place flickers, dimming until there’s a low hum, then a bolt of lightning flashes in the middle of the kitchen, electricity crackling through the room. The bottle slips from my hands in my surprise, but Dante reaches toward it, not making contact, yet it stops mid-air, hovering and waiting for his grasp.

  “My apologies, Caitriona, I did not mean to startle you.” He takes the wine bottle from its suspended animation, removes the cork with ease, fills my glass and hands it to me. “May I join you? I believe customary social standards deem it unacceptable to drink alcohol without the company of another.” He’s already gotten another glass out and is pouring wine into it while speaking, not waiting for an answer.

  “I suppose it’s a good thing I was going to ask you to join me anyway,” I remark, annoyed by his presumptuous actions, reminding myself this is part of the deal, the promise. Fair chances. Reasonable opportunities.

  Dante lifts his glass toward me, one brow raised, polite smile on his lips. “A toast,” he offers, and I hold mine up as well. “To the death of old ways and the birth of new beginnings.” The smile plays at something more than mild politeness as he clinks our glasses together, waiting a moment before taking a drink. “This is quite a robust cabernet sauvignon, wouldn’t you say?” I nod, not much of a wine connoisseur myself. “I prefer a smooth mild, fruity merlot with a hint of spice.” His unnatural blue eyes bore into mine. “Though the company improves upon this particular wine with utmost significance.”

  “You don’t even know me. For all you know, I make this a lot worse,” I counter, narrowing my eyes and daring him to say otherwise.

  His smile tightens, and he looks to the SylvrSky screen. “True as that may be, you’re quite intriguing, Caitriona, a rarity for me. You might imagine the company I keep improves when I find them interesting.”

  I gulp down half the glass. This is the strangest day of my life so far. “Really? It seems hard to believe that I could be so interesting to you.”

  Dante sips from his glass, watching me as he does. “You have no fear of us, do you?” he asks, head tilted, lips pursed together, crease between his brows.

  Repressing the urge to grin at his quizzical expression, far too adorable for a demigod, I shake my head. “No. I don’t see why I should.” His gaze drops to his glass, swirling the crimson liquid, that contemplative expression from the meeting today returned. “Should I?”

  “No. No.… Of course not, Caitriona. I have no ill intentions toward you, no desire to harm you.” He reaches his hand out, and I place mine in it, an undeniable need to touch him surfacing. “None whatsoever, my dear.” Dante kisses the back of my hand, a feather-light brush of his lips on my skin, but a rush, an electrical charge at his touch is impossible to miss.

  Setting my glass on the counter, I keep my eyes on it, my heart revving like a jumpstarted car that nobody let off the accelerator yet. If it’s natural to his touch or just my reaction to it, I don’t know. But it’s intense, impossible, insane, waking up wanting no one then wanting Theo, and now…

  “Aren’t we supposed to have dinner together or something? Theo said that’s why you were coming.”

  Seven days. Only seven days to choose the right husband. I take a deep breath, watching from the corner of my eye.

  Glancing up and down at my t-shirt and jeans, taking a moment to stop on my bare feet, he laughs, light and airy. A warm smile spreads across his face, making him far more inviting than his ethereal appearance or the elitist persona tabloids describe. “Lovely choice of color,” he remarks of my nail polish. “A remarkable shade of blue.”

  “Like your eyes.” The comment slips out as I focus on staring at my toes instead of facing him.

  “Thank you.” His voice is soft, accent beautiful on the even simplest words. Reaching, Dante ghosts his fingers over my cheek, hovering, not quite connecting, and I hold my breath, waiting, expecting his touch… wanting it, but he pulls away. “However, I was going to say they complement your eyes.” Picking up his glass again, he takes another drink, far more than a sip this time. “Perhaps you would like to change then we could go to dinner.” His tone is formal, the soft edge gone and gouging me in its unexpectedness.

  Considering for a moment, well aware that if we’re going anywhere, I can’t wear this while he’s dressed in black slacks and a midnight blue French-cuffed shirt, I back up, grab my own glass, and finish it. “You know, if you don’t want to do this, that’s fine. I don’t expect you to want any of it.”

  Dante’s expression turns puzzled. “I’m sorry? I do not understand. Have I offended you in some manner?”

  Refilling my glass, I gulp down half before answering. “Look, I don’t know what you were thinking getting in the middle of this whole thing between the king and Theo, but don’t feel like you have to save me or something. As interesting as you may think I am, there’s no reason for you to be stuck with a wife just because… because… Hell, I don’t even know why you did it, why you offered to marry me. Just know I’m not holding you to it.”

  So much for giving him a fair chance. Instead, I’m giving him a way out. I polish off the wine in my glass and turn back to see his face, surprised how stricken he looks. “You do not wish me to court you, to desire your affections,” he states, not bothering to ask, as if he’s sure of the answer.

  “I didn’t say that.” Maybe I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Maybe I’m afraid I will feel something for him, something too real, and it’s better for him to walk away if he’s doing this for the wrong reasons. “If you prefer to be alone, I’m not going to demand you change.”

  The security of devout loyalty is always better than the pain of romantic heartbreak, or so I’m telling myself as Dante’s eyes meet mine. Blue eyes. Bluer than the sky or the Atlantic. Eyes to lose yourself in. And I swallow my heart before choking on the idea Theo could be right.

  “ ‘There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic.’ A quote from a French novelist, Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette.” The demigod keeps his gaze steady on mine.

  Breathe.

  A fair chance. I promised a fair chance, a simple thing.

  “She was quite correct.” He steps toward me, blue eyes intensifying, the lights flickering then dimming, making his eyes appear to glow. I set my glass down as he comes close.

  A reasonable opportunity. Not an unreasonable thing to ask. Not with Dante. He’s so…

  His fingers caress my chin, lifting it, enticing electricity humming through those fingers, and he leans over, running his tongue along my lips, deliberate and sensual, before kissing me. “ ‘Your lips are like wine, and I want to get drunk,’ ” he whispers, his breath candy-sweet.

  “Shakespeare,” I reply. He nods, his hair brushing my forehead as he pulls me in, lips as soft and sweet as his breath, and intent on getting impressively tipsy.

  Chapter 4

  *Theo*

  “And what had he to say regarding the matter?”

  “You know Agtos, Oliver.… ‘You are limited by your own limitations’ were his exact words.” With the GoSky on speakerphone, I keep my hands busy working on an origami dragon, rounding out the dozen cranes and three Kawasaki roses I made while speaking with Agtos. I need to buy more paper, having used most of the supply in my desk already. “Must he always explain everything in such riddles?”

  “Don’t you do the same to your wards, Theo?” he remarks, and I hear the smirk in his tone.

  “As you are so fond of saying, life is not fair. That’s my way of balancing the fairness somewhat. If I must tolerate his riddles, they must tolerate mine.” Making an error on the dragon’s head, I toss the paper in the rubbish bin, starting over with a fresh sheet. “I’ve told you before, I think he creates those little inserts for Chinese fortune cookies in his spare time.”


  “You’re a smart ass, brother.”

  I laugh. “And you’re just an ass. Speaking of asses, how is your ward? Does he plan to visit mine tonight? Should I sharpen my sword, or did you have a chat with the Notorious P.I.G?”

  “Am I supposed to understand that reference?”

  “Not unless you’ve begun listening to music from the last few centuries without mentioning it, Oliver.” I suppress the urge to laugh loudly at the thought, while concentrating on the folds necessary for the dragon’s head.

  “Then why do you insist on making such references?” he growls. I do laugh. His growl lowers to an irritated rumble.

  “Because I find your refusal to stay attuned to popular culture entertaining when it leaves you at a loss, my dear brother.” My dragon’s head is perfect this time, and I search through the paper for a sheet to make another rose; a blue one to match the color on Cait’s toes. “Is Corrin aware I will not accept disingenuous intentions toward Cait? She deserves such effort.”

  “I have explained this to him, whether he heeds your warning remains to be seen. Corrin has little time left, and Miss Hayden is an ideal match, an excellent choice to be queen.” He sighs, undoubtedly at wit’s end with the young king. “Speak forthright, Theo. Do you truly see it necessary she falls in love with her suitor, or do you want them to fail, leaving her turning to you?”

  I stop mid-fold, unsure how to answer, unsure I can, unsure I want to. “Perhaps both. Cait made me promise to try, Oliver. I promised to try falling in love with her, not simply love her as a dragon would any female ward, but to give her the romantic love she desires of me should I be her choice.”

  “She made you? You’re a dragon. There is nothing she can make you do that you do not want to do, Theo. You’ve told me that countless times. Although I cannot imagine the complexities of a female ward, I do not believe Agtos was quite so baffling in his statement.”