by Zoe Chant
“Go with him,” Malachi said. “We’ll meet up for a strategy discussion when he’s recovered. Unless you think there’s going to be another attack today?”
Athena considered it, and shook her head. “Jeremiah’s aggressive, but he isn’t stupid. He’s going to want to do some reconnaissance and understand the situation better before attacking.”
Malachi nodded. “Then go on. We’ll talk later.”
He was trusting her, she realized. Trusting her to take care of the town in the same way that he did, that Santos did, that they all did.
She followed Reid and Santos, holding Olivia close and letting that knowledge carry her along, warm and solid even in the face of danger.
***
“You’re healing well,” Reid told Santos as he finished his examination. “I’m going to give you something to put on it, just to make sure you don’t get an infection, but I think you’ll be fine. If you’re not nearly well by tomorrow morning, or if anything seems to be getting worse rather than better, come back right away.”
“Will do,” Santos said, getting down from the table he’d been sitting on. He was already moving more easily, Athena noted with approval.
Reid finished up the visit with brisk efficiency that, Athena thought, hid a real affection for Santos. He made him promise to use the ointment that he handed over, and put a quick hand on his shoulder as they were ready to leave. “My final prescription is to avoid getting in any more aerial battles with hostile dragons,” he said firmly.
Santos quirked a smile. “I’ll do my best.”
“Next time I’ll do most of the fighting and you can come in at the end,” Athena offered.
“I don’t know if I’m willing to go quite that far,” Santos said, and Reid shook his head and opened the door for them.
“Congratulations,” he said quietly.
“Thanks,” Santos said, warm and happy, and led Athena back out of the office.
On the street, they could see that the crowd had dispersed. Santos pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Athena asked, alarmed.
He shook his head. “I’ve got ten missed calls from my mother.”
“Oh.” Athena looked around, half-expecting Rita to materialize from behind a house or something. “You should tell her you’re okay.” She tried to imagine knowing that Olivia had been injured in a fight, but not knowing if she was all right, and had to immediately stop thinking about it.
He was texting. “She just got to the shop, so I’m telling her we’re on our way. Come on.”
They started down the street, still at a slow pace. Santos took her hand. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. “After everything that just happened.”
Athena thought about it. “I guess—I guess I’m realizing that I never understood how weak we were.”
“Your clan?” he asked.
She nodded. “We hide away from humans. We live in abandoned houses, or sometimes in caves, away from civilization. We don’t have any money. We have to take all of our things from other clans that we fight—and every time we fight, we lose resources, and sometimes people. It’s hard to see how we’ve even lasted as long as we have. Today, seeing how the whole town showed up, knowing what you could’ve mustered if the fight had gone on any longer...it made me think.”
“Has your clan always been like that?” he asked softly.
She shook her head. “I remember hearing some of the older members talk about how things changed when Jeremiah took over. I think we’ve always been reclusive, always stayed away from human society and human comforts, but we weren’t as...warlike, before. Not as aggressive. He was the one who really decided he wanted to go after other clans unprovoked.”
“Huh,” Santos said. “So really, we might be able to defeat him, and the rest of the clan could enter into a treaty?”
Athena tried to imagine the clan without Jeremiah. It seemed impossible. Even imagining Jeremiah falling in battle was hard. He was a monolith, and always had been, for her entire life.
“Maybe,” was as far as she could go. “Shiloh’s always been eager to follow in his father’s footsteps.”
“But it sounds like they have a difficult relationship,” he pointed out. “From what you said to him.”
“I suppose,” she said slowly. “Jeremiah’s always disappointed in him. But that just pushes him to try harder.”
“What if he didn’t have to try?”
That was almost as hard to imagine as the other stuff. “I don’t know.”
They’d arrived at the shop, now. Santos looked at the door with trepidation. “My mom’s really not going to be happy about this.”
“You were defending the town,” Athena pointed out. “It’s an honorable injury.”
“That’s not what she’ll be upset about. She’s just going to be worried that I got hurt. She wants me to be safe.”
That felt like another essential Oak Ridge thing that Athena wanted to get used to—the idea that maybe one could be safe from harm.
That she could expect that for her own children, raise them with the understanding that, honorable or not, injuries were to be avoided.
She took Santos’ arm, soaking in the feel of him, of that extra foundation of strength underlying her. “Well, let’s go explain how we’re going to make sure of that, then.”
Chapter 19: Santos
Santos had been right: Rita was horrified at the sight of her son with a bloody wound, and insisted on hearing the entire story and getting an exact repetition of every word Reid had said to him about taking care of it.
“Mom, I need to talk to Malachi about what to do next,” he finally had to say.
“I think I need to talk to Malachi about what to do next,” she said grimly. “This can’t go on. We have to do something to settle this conflict once and for all.”
“Agreed,” said Santos. “Any ideas?”
“Well, it seems like the red dragons aren’t totally lacking in reasonable people,” Rita said with a smile at Athena. “You and Ronan are both lovely. I suppose the problem is that the person in charge is not. If we could find a reasonable person and get them in charge, that would at least be a step forward.”
“I thought the same,” Santos said, satisfied at being corroborated. His mother was a smart woman, and when she was motivated, she could accomplish a great deal. “Athena seems to think that there are a couple of people—her brother, for example, or the current leader’s daughter—who would be good candidates, but that they’d never actually make the move, or if they did, they wouldn’t be successful.”
“Hm,” Rita said thoughtfully. “Well. Maybe they just need a push.”
Santos smiled. “Maybe they do.”
***
Rita insisted that Santos stay here at home and recover with his mate and baby—she said that, too, your mate and baby, which gave him a warm thrill. Olivia had woken up and Athena was holding her, and Santos looked at her little body and thought, my baby.
It felt right. It felt like this was the thing he’d been constantly looking for, the thing that had left him so unsatisfied despite his good, fulfilling life. He’d found it at last.
So he agreed, and Rita left to go talk to Malachi and Flynn and whoever else they could scare up and discuss what had happened.
“And I know he’ll want to talk to you and Athena too,” Rita said severely, “but I’ll make it clear that you’re recovering and he isn’t to bother you until you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Santos said, half-laughing, “but if he really needs to know something for the town’s safety, he can call me whenever he needs to.”
“Hm,” Rita said, a noise that indicated that she was going to repeat no such thing. That was all right. Santos would text Malachi as soon as she left to say that if Malachi needed something from him immediately, he could call.
For now, he hugged his mom goodbye, even if it made him wince a little, and said, “Thanks, Mama.”
; “If you need a babysitter while you’re getting better, just call,” Rita said, hugging him back gently. “I need to get to know my new granddaughter.”
Santos smiled and waved her out the door, and then turned to Athena, who was blinking hard. “Are you okay?”
“I didn’t think about her having a grandmother and a grandfather,” Athena said quietly. “We don’t—you know, it’s hard to live to old age, when you’re fighting so much. Not a lot of grandparents. And she lost hers so long before she was born.”
Santos went over and touched a thumb to Olivia’s cheek, baby-round and pink. Olivia looked up at him, and smiled. He smiled back, helpless at the sight of her three little teeth. “Well, now she has two. And a dad.”
Athena shook her head. “When I conceived her—it was an accident, and her biological father was never going to be in her life, not that he’d ever want to. Not that I’d ever have wanted him to. I never thought of Olivia having a real father, just because I couldn’t think of a single man I wasn’t related to who would do a good job.”
Santos grinned. “Have you changed your mind yet?”
She punched him in the shoulder, pulling it so that her knuckles barely grazed him. Santos had to think about how he’d never imagined he’d have a mate who would punch him like that, like a man horsing around, but he liked it.
“How about you sit down and I can—well, I can’t cook, but I can make sandwiches.”
“Thanks,” he said with a smile. His wound was healing quickly, but it still hurt, and if he wanted it to be mostly healed by the end of the day, he’d be smart to sit down for a while instead of moving around and pulling at it. “How about I take Olivia, though?”
Athena handed the baby over, and Santos went over to the couch and settled himself in, lying back with Olivia in his lap, well away from the wound. She was content to sit there, fingers in her mouth, watching her mom move around the kitchen.
They ate sandwiches together on the couch, with the baby sitting at their feet and banging a toy on the hardwood, and Santos thought that he’d never been more content. His stomach was healing, slowly but surely, and he had his mate and his new daughter here with him.
“I think my mom’s right, you know,” he said to Athena as they finished eating.
She took his plate as she stood up, going over to the sink. “About what?”
“About finding a different leader for your clan.”
He’d been expecting an objection, just like she’d objected back at Lachlan’s, but instead she sighed. “You’re right. You might also be right that even Shiloh—if Jeremiah wasn’t always egging him on, we might be able to talk to him.” She considered. “Maybe.”
Santos relaxed. If Athena was on his side, he was confident that there was nothing they wouldn’t be able to accomplish together.
“Come here,” he said quietly. “The dishes can wait.”
She smiled, leaving them in the sink, and came back over to the couch. He held out an arm, and she slipped under it, settling in next to him and breathing out a contented sigh.
***
Athena, to his total lack of surprise, was stern and unforgiving about making him rest. Humphrey helped her by venturing out from under the couch and hopping up to sit in his lap and purr the afternoon away.
“Come sit with me, at least,” he asked her. “We can read together again. Or watch a movie.”
Malachi had texted him to tell him in no uncertain terms that he was to stay home and rest up until he was healed, and they’d have a strategy meeting tomorrow to discuss what to do next. Santos decided to take the opportunity to set all his worries aside and enjoy having a mate and baby who were definitely, no doubts or questions, going to stay by his side from now on.
“A movie?” Athena asked, coming over, curiosity filling her voice. She sat down cautiously next to Santos and Humphrey, reaching out a careful hand to pet the cat.
Santos smiled down at the sight. Athena was so gentle, like she was afraid she’d break him if she petted too hard. “Sure. How about Casablanca, in honor of Humphrey being brave enough to come out even with the baby around?”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Which made him realize that Athena had never heard of Humphrey Bogart. So then they absolutely had to watch Casablanca. Athena took it in with wide eyes, pressed up against Santos’ side, only occasionally looking away from the screen to ask him questions about the human context for everything—she had a vague knowledge of World War II, Santos learned, but very few specifics. And she’d never seen a black-and-white movie at all.
“That was amazing,” she said on a let-out breath, as the credits were rolling. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It’s one of the best movies ever made,” Santos said, “but there are many more good ones. We can watch through all the best classics together.”
Athena smiled. “I can’t wait.”
***
By the end of the day, he’d healed enough that he wasn’t at all worried about getting up and moving around, helping put Olivia to bed, and generally resuming normal activity. Which included—
“Are you sure?” Athena asked, pulling back, her forehead wrinkled.
He kissed her again. “One hundred percent.”
He could feel her body rising up to meet his as his hands slid down her sides, cupping her hips. The way she melted against him was possibly his favorite thing in the entire world.
She broke away again. “Okay,” she said, with a stern edge to her voice, “but we’re doing it my way.”
“Oh, my pleasure,” he said with total honesty, and let her lead him down the hall to the bedroom, where she started stripping his clothes off.
Santos hadn’t ever thought this would be a thrill, but having to remain completely still—Athena glared at him when he tried to help—while a beautiful woman took his clothes off, her hands brushing against him without ever going anywhere, was making his blood heat up. He kept his hands to himself and moved how she directed him, and his desire flared higher with every move she made.
When she had him naked, he gave in and pulled her close to kiss her. Athena’s eyes drifted closed, half-lidded in pleasure, as she opened her mouth for him, leaning into the kiss.
But then she pulled back. “Hey,” she said. “I didn’t say you could do that.”
Santos grinned. “I know. Breaking the rules. I’ll take whatever punishment you want to dish out.”
Athena looked extremely thoughtful at that, which made him wonder what kind of bedroom games they might be able to play in the future. They had years and years to find out, which made him sigh happily.
Then she took a step back and started stripping off her own clothes, which derailed any thoughts about the future and anchored him firmly in the present. She was so gorgeous—tall and broad, more muscular than most of the women he’d known, but still with generous curves. He could see the lingering stretch marks on her belly from pregnancy. She looked like some kind of powerful feminine archetype, a goddess come down to earth.
And she was his.
Naked, she came forward again, initiating the kiss herself this time, and Santos lost himself in the taste of her, the scent, the feel of her soft skin against his. Slowly, she propelled him backwards toward the bed, stopping when his legs gently bumped the edge of it, and giving him a little push.
Santos eased himself down, noticing a little bit of a twinge in his side, but nothing that should get in the way of whatever they wanted to do—particularly not if Athena was going to keep up the care she was taking.
All thoughts left his head entirely in the next second, though, when she knelt on the foot of the bed, looked up at him with a wicked smile, and bent down to take him in her gorgeous mouth.
Santos couldn’t help the noise he made, and could only hope that it didn’t wake Olivia, because he had no control over himself from the moment he felt her mouth taking him in, hot and perfect around him. His hips surged forward, but she cau
ght them and pinned him to the bed, which just ramped him up higher, the feeling of her strong hands holding him down.
She explored him with her mouth, her tongue and her lips sending electric shocks of pleasure through him. A brief, experimental graze with her teeth almost made him shout out loud.
“Come up here,” he managed after that. His voice was rough, ragged. “Athena. Come here.”
She lingered for just a moment longer, and then pulled off—he had to resist the urge to change his mind, but only for a second, because then she was right up with him, and he could wrap his arms around her, pull her down against him, and kiss her.
She melted against him, her body so warm and aroused, flushed with pleasure just from sucking him. God, he loved her. “What do you want?” he murmured into her mouth. “Tell me what you want.”
She pulled back just enough to look him in the eye—her eyes were gorgeous in the dim light, a thin ring of translucent green—and said, “This is what I want. This right here.”
And she kissed him again, then slid down his body, lifted herself up, and slid right down onto his cock.
Santos’ brain whited out entirely, and when he was able to think again, all he could think was, Athena.
She was gorgeous above him, her full breasts, her beautiful face, her red hair cascading down her back as she moved. He reached out, because he had to touch her or he was going to die, and caught her hips in his hands. She moaned, and leaned into his touch, driving him more deeply into her.
Santos lifted to meet her, too caught up in the tight, hot slide to notice if it hurt at all. She was so slick around him, clenching tight as she gasped for air, speeding up, chasing her own pleasure. If he kept looking at her, he felt like he’d risk going blind.
He let go of her hip with one hand and slid it over her lower belly, fingers finding the copper-red curls between her legs. He parted her lips and found her clit, catching it gently between two fingers.
One of her hands came down immediately, clamping over his, and she ground her hips fiercely forward, panting, little moans coming out with each breath. Santos’ fingers were soaking wet immediately. The whole room smelled like them, and he wasn’t going to be able to hang on much longer, not with her beautiful Amazon body moving above him, the feeling of her muscles clenching tight and silky-hot around him, the scent of her sex in the air.