by Lola Gabriel
“Is Esme pregnant? Is that why you left town with her?” he blurted out.
Olive was flabbergasted and confused for a brief moment before her face flushed, and she withdrew her hands from his and crossed her arms yet again. “Why would you ask that?”
“Olive, tell me.”
Suddenly, it looked like Olive was going to be sick. Her cheeks stayed rosy while the rest grew pale and green. The look on her face was nothing short of sheer panic. Was it because she didn’t want to sell out her friend?
Finally, all the pieces floating around in Asher’s head clicked into place. He stared at her, unaware that his mouth was open. The clouds of shock subsided, and the grasp their bond had on his senses loosened. The smell of a dragonborn was so strong in the air that he nearly gagged on it. The world stopped turning. No longer could he hear the quiet clatter of dishes in the background or feel the lingering eyes on the back of his neck. There was only Olive.
Without a formulated thought in his head, Asher had nothing to say. Or, he had plenty to say, but it was so jumbled up in his mind that he couldn’t even find a syllable to utter. The shock was so immense, it outweighed how he’d felt when he had come into the diner. His legs and arms were numb, and if he had been standing, Asher would have swiftly met the floor.
Olive was pregnant… was that why she had left? Without telling him she was carrying his child?
Unbeknownst to him, he was the father of the first dragonborn in five hundred years. That realization fell on him like a ton of cinderblocks. What would his father think? What would they do? Despite the gravity of the realization, it was surprisingly fleeting. Those concerns would be dealt with later. Asher was more consumed by the betrayal of his lover.
“Olive…” he croaked. He stared at her as if to tell him it wasn’t true, that he was crazy for even thinking so. That she would never hurt him like that.
A fresh supply of tears fell from Olive’s eyes in steady streams, her body shaking with a hand clasped around her mouth. She didn’t even have the courage to say anything. She had been the one to do this, and she needed to come clean. A ferocious match of tug-of-war was taking place with Asher’s temperament. He was so hurt and angry that he felt the urge to demand answers, to drag them out of her if necessary. Explanations were the least he deserved. However, his conscious mind reminded him that she was pregnant and was bound to be very far into it at this point. She was hormonal, emotional, and fragile at every level.
Asher noticed, for the first time, that her jacket was too large and apparently covering what she was attempting to hide from him, the table assisting in skewing his view of her body. His dark brows were pushed together, his brown eyes giving away his every emotion.
“Why would you keep me in the dark about this?” he asked as softly as he could.
“I was scared,” Olive admitted through her tears, her voice further muffled by the hand over her mouth.
“Scared?” he repeated back to her, utterly shocked. “Scared of how I would react? Olive, you know me better than that.”
“No, not of you,” Olive clarified, shaking her head.
“Then of what?” Her fear was palpable, and Asher’s eyes grew wide. His hand jetted across the table and took one of her hands into his. She was even afraid to vocalize it, but why? What was there to be scared of? And why hadn’t she come to him with this when it first arose? “You have to tell me, Olive. Okay? Just tell me.”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy…”
“I can see how terrified you are even just thinking about it, sweetheart. I’m not going to think you’re crazy.” His words didn’t appear to ease her woes enough, if at all, as Olive was still shaking her head. It was only then that Asher, as with as little force as possible, pried her hand away from her mouth and squeezed both of her palms. “Look at me. Look at me, Olive.” Once she did, he spoke firmly yet calmly. “You want to know why I won’t think you’re crazy, no matter what it is? Because I know that you were scared enough to run away, and even though it hurts me deeply that you did that, I can rationally understand you were doing what you could to protect… our child.”
The final words were foreign and felt wrong in his mouth, yet right at the same time. The weight of everything had crashed down on him, but it didn’t mean the reality of it had sunken in. That was going to take some time. Christ, he was going to have a child in a matter of weeks. Asher absentmindedly wondered if it wouldn’t hit him until he held the little one.
“Your dad,” Olive choked out. “Your dad is what terrifies me.”
Just as Asher had thought he couldn’t get any more baffled that night. “My dad? He would never do anything to hurt my child, our child.”
“You don’t know that,” Olive pushed back. “I know he’s your dad, but… Ash, he’s terrifying. He’s hungry for power. What do you think he’d do to me, to the baby, to figure out how this even happened? He could possibly want him for his own. He could potentially use our son as a tool to stay in power! And it’s not even just your dad, okay? It’s that entire part of your life… I know I don’t get exactly how big a deal this is, but I grasp the fact that there would be a target on his back, no matter what.” Olive chewed her lip nervously. “Besides, Esme told me not to trust any of them… not even you.”
“What does she know?” Asher scoffed, bewildered that her friend had any input whatsoever.
“She knows more than me, it seems,” Olive murmured. “She said that—” She stopped herself and looked around for people close by. “—that dragons are charming and deceitful. That I shouldn’t have believed you when you said you were sterile because obviously you aren’t, or else how would this have happened?”
“Sterile is just… semantics, okay? I wasn’t lying to you; it’s just complicated. I was planning to explain it to you one day, I swear. But we were together for a short duration of time, and I felt like I had given you enough to process for the time being.”
“Why are you deciding what’s too much for me instead of letting me make that call for myself?” Olive demanded, insulted.
“Because you don’t know and don’t understand,” Asher groaned, releasing one of her hands to run a frustrated hand down his face. “I didn’t want to overload you with all this, not all at once.” Olive deflated. He knew she was just being defensive. “Back to the point. How does Esme know anything about my family or what we are? Did you tell her and she’s drawing conclusions?”
Olive shook her head. “She already knew. She said her family are historians and have studied dragons for generations.”
Well, that was a complete lie. Any relics that could be traced back to their Kingdom was within the family estate walls. They had always been extremely cautious with that sort of thing. Not even bones would be found; it was in their tradition to burn the bones to ashes. It took at least two dragons to get the job done, and Asher had been a part of many cremations, both ceremonies and impromptu occurrences. Nothing Olive was saying about Esme added up whatsoever.
That was when Asher’s eyes caught a glimpse of something metallic peeking out from the opening of Olive’s jacket. “What’s that?” he questioned.
She followed his line of sight and held out an amulet, studying it herself. “It’s a locket,” she simply stated.
He didn’t have to hold it in his hand or even get a closer look before his eyes were aflame with horror. “Where did you get that?”
Olive eyed him then, looking confused and hesitant. “Esme gave it to me. It’s a good luck charm.”
“That’s no good luck charm,” Asher mused. He stood from the table, still holding her hand to gesture for her to follow. “We have to go.”
“What? Why?”
He shot her a pleading look. “Do you trust me?”
Olive wanted to resist giving an answer, and he understood why. She was a mortal, and in the course of a year and a half, she had been thrust into the world of mystics. Dragons were real, and she was the mate of a dragon prince. She was ca
rrying his child, which happened to be the first dragon shifter born in five hundred years—and she had been provided conflicting information with absolutely no unbiased information to go off on. Asher couldn’t imagine how fast her head must have been spinning. Thankfully, he did have the upper hand with her. They had a bond that was undeniable, and she knew that, too. His only hope was for her to go with her innate instinct to trust him. Asher would never, ever lead her astray or put her in danger.
He was awash with relief when she finally nodded. “Then will you come with me so I can explain in the car? I swear on my life, if you want to leave, you can leave. I’m not going to hold you hostage.”
Slowly, Olive stood from the booth. Asher’s breath was taken away as he finally saw her in full view, her body no longer hidden by the table and jacket. Olive’s petite frame was full from motherhood. Her stomach poked out in a perfectly round shape, her hips were wider, her thighs a bit thicker, and her breasts full. In no way was Asher’s gaze objectifying or sexualizing her, but purely admiring. He was in absolute awe.
It took him more than a moment to kick himself back into gear. They needed to get out of there and far, far away from that damn witch.
11
Olive wasn’t entirely certain that she hadn’t fallen asleep in the motel room after all and this had all been a dream. The only thing indicating to her that it wasn’t was the fact that she had been plagued with nightmares since getting pregnant. If it was a dream, despite the hurricane of emotions, Olive didn’t want to wake from it. Not anytime soon, at least.
As she approached the passenger side door of what she assumed was a rental car, a large, gentle hand rested on her shoulder. Tilting her head, she was met with an embrace from Asher. She practically dissolved in his hold. “Sorry, I know I said we had to go, but I can’t help myself here,” he whispered into her hair.
Latching onto him, she breathed in the scent that was so comforting to her, the scent she associated with the word “home.” The sentiment was cheesy and cliché, and she would never tell a soul that. Burying her face in Asher’s chest and allowing her fingers to comb through the curls on the back of his head, she drank at the moment. It felt as though a lifetime had passed since the last time she was in his arms.
It was then she realized that the embrace was a little awkward, the two of them having to lean over to have a full embrace because of her stomach. Asher took notice as well and peeled back to look down at her belly.
“Can… Can I…?” he began anxiously before his voice trailed off. He didn’t need to finish the sentence for Olive to know what he was asking. The first wide, genuine grin of the night came to her face.
“He’s not really moving around right now,” she warned him as she lightly placed his hand down on top of her stomach. Olive’s eyes were fixated on Asher’s face as he stared down. He moved his hand around gradually, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he concentrated. “Like I said—”
The sensation of the baby moving about cut her off. She took in the look of infinite wonder that brightened Asher’s handsome, chiseled face.
“Oh my god,” he breathed. His head shook side to side in disbelief. “That’s just… wow…” Asher kept his hand there, hoping for another little bump or kick, and his face lit up even more when it came. His chin lifted to glance at Olive. “Inside, when we were talking… you called it son…” Asher’s voice was raspy, not at all matching the excitement on his face. He was holding back a new wave of emotion.
“Well, it hasn’t been confirmed by a doctor or anything. I’ve been afraid of going to an actual doctor, you know, because of what he is. But, I’ve had the feeling the entire time. Esme’s certain of it, too, and she’s supposedly never been wrong about it before.”
There was a hint of resentment in the air around Asher when she mentioned Esme. Olive guessed it was understandable, seeing as how she had run away with her. Asher didn’t hold onto that feeling for long, though, the smile growing on his face as he rubbed her stomach. “I have a son,” he exhaled, sounding as though he was saying it to himself to make it real.
Anytime Esme stated something matter-of-factly about the baby, Olive would laugh it off and tell her there was no way to know. But when Asher did it, it felt right. It felt real, now that he was involved. Olive had no idea what was going to happen in the next few minutes, let alone weeks or months to come. It would all come down to what he was willing to cooperate with. Her son wasn’t going to be around Carlyle Tallant.
Asher leaned in and pressed a sweet and brief peck on her lips, leaving her blushing and dazed, before he opened the door for her. By the time Olive had gotten in and buckled her seatbelt, Asher was in the driver’s seat and starting the engine, only fumbling to put on his seatbelt once he was backing out of the parking space.
“Where exactly are we headed?” Olive asked.
“I’m not sure,” Asher admitted. “I just need to get you out of this town.”
“Can you tell me why?” He licked his lips nervously as he battled his thoughts and pulled out onto the main road.
“I’m not sure where to start…” He sighed defeatedly as he glanced over to her. “I guess with that. Can you hand that to me?” he asked, pointing to her necklace.
Olive complied, though she wasn’t sure why he was so hung up on the jewelry. Dropping it into his open hand, Asher hardly took a glance at it before he chucked it out of his open window.
“Asher!” Olive exclaimed, her jaw going slack from shock. “I told you that’s Esme’s! I’m going to have to give it back to her! What if it’s a family heirloom or something?”
“I’m sure it is,” Asher grumbled. “If we had the time, I would throw the car in reverse and back over it.” Olive was becoming fed up with his hostility toward Esme. She was innocent in all this, and him holding a grudge after Esme was just redirecting the anger he held for her.
“I know that you don’t particularly like me being friends with her, but you don’t have any real reason to be so angry with her. It’s me you’re mad at, and if that’s the case, then be mad at me, not her.”
“I’m not mad at you, Liv. I’ve been hurt, but like I said before, I understand now why you did what you did, even if I don’t agree with how you went about it. I do, however, have every right to be angry with Esme. As do you.” Taking his eyes off the road, Asher glanced over to her to express grave seriousness. “She isn’t who she says she is. She’s been lying to you probably since the day you met.”
Olive had no response, having no idea where he would have drawn that conclusion from. Was Esme to an Honest Abe level? No, but who was?
“I’m going to start from the beginning,” Asher announced. “I’m sorry if this is hard to follow, but just stick with me.” Taking a deep breath, he let it flow out of him. “Perhaps I should have told you this before. I mean, you know dragons and dragon-shifters are real, so that sort of throws everything into the realm of possibility… Ugh. Anyway, I believe I’ve mentioned that my people are originally from Europe, right? Well, dragon-shifters, that is. Dragons go so far back that we have no idea where they originally came from. That’s unimportant. What you should know is that we were centralized in England through the Middle Ages and onward. My grandfather, Osric, was the first dragon-shifter.
“Well, during this time, there were also covens of witches—and I mean actual witches. Women who sold their souls to whatever hellish creature they chose so that they, and their offspring to come, would have supernatural powers. They began hunting dragons and dragon-shifters. They were harvesting my people for our bones, scales, and blood to use in their potions and rituals. They were sly, managing to come into our dens at night and slaughtering one of our kind while we slept, before escaping in the dark of night to nearby villages, knowing that we wouldn’t go into public spaces to find them. That would have been outing ourselves.
“They killed off nearly all of the full-blooded dragons before coming for the shifters. Something had to be done. We were fi
erce beasts, and yet we were being picked off by women in the night…”
Asher paused then, shaking his head. In the darkness of the car, Olive couldn’t see the details of his face, but she could somehow feel his pain. He was reliving it as he told the story.
“Something had to be done. Osric decided the best course of action would be to join the humans and rise to some sort of status. The thought behind it was that the witches wouldn’t dare to kill noblemen. The town would be in an uproar and hunt out the killers, eventually catching them. For a while, that worked. Osric rose to be the community reverend. The title suited him well. While he didn’t have a lordship, he had immense influence, and the eloquent dictation and charm to get anything he desired.
“However, the witches were running out of materials, I suppose, I don’t really know, but they started attacking us again. Boldly, too. That was when Osric began preaching about witches, telling the masses that the land was plagued with them and we had to weed them out. It was a scare tactic to run them out of the village. Some did, others did not. Some lowly witches were caught and brought to death.
“Things escalated when a witch killed my mother. My father was catatonic for months after. It was then that Osric persuaded a duke to send knights to find an elder witch, a leader in the witch coven. My brothers and I were all soldiers at that point and helped lead the search. We captured her, dragged her back to the town’s center… and then Osric burned her at the stake.
“As she burned, she cursed us all. We weren’t sure what exactly it was at first, but it didn’t take long. Any woman dragon-shifter who was pregnant at the time miscarried at nightfall, even those who were just about to give birth. We thought perhaps that was the end, but…”