by Donna Grant
In a Fae, definitely.
There might even be a Druid or two who came close to this mortal, but Con couldn’t be sure.
“You don’t know what to make of me, do you?” Heather said as she shot him a smile.
“I doona,” he replied, not bothering to lie.
She laughed, the sound soft and musical. To his surprise, Con found his lips curling into a smile. Since it was something he didn’t do often, he was shocked this woman could manage what none of his brethren had in...well, in thousands of years.
Heather licked her lips as her smile faded. “Who are you, Constantine?”
“Why do you ask that?” he queried, instantly on guard.
“Because you appear to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
He turned his head to her. “If we’re going to ask such personal questions, I pose the same to you. Because, dear Heather, you are no’ all that you seem.”
Instead of becoming angry, she grinned at him, her lavender eyes flashing with mirth. “Oh, I’m simply a woman trying to make her way in the world.”
“Ah, but you’re no’ simply anything.”
“The same could be said of you,” she replied succinctly.
Con tipped his head at her. Conversations such as these never occurred with mortals, and while he knew he would be better cutting such words off, he found he wanted to continue the banter.
And there was even a small part of him – a very tiny drop – that thought about showing her exactly who he was. That was foolishness, however, and he halted such thoughts immediately.
“Why do you think that? I’m no different than other men.”
Heather smiled and shook her head. “Those are words meant for a fool, and I am no fool.”
“Meaning?” he pressed.
She halted and turned to him. The jingling of the bridle filled the air as the horse and cart stopped with her. “On my journey, I’ve encountered a fair number of individuals from the most lowly slave, to beggars, regular folk, nobility, and even royalty. I’ve looked into each of their eyes. Not once did I find what I see in your black eyes.”
“What is that?” he asked before he could stop himself.
He imagined she might say hopelessness, despair, or even despondency.
“Vitality.”
Con frowned, completely taken aback.
She took a step closer. “I also see strength. You have that in abundance.”
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“A woman who has an injured horse.”
He shook his head and let his arms drop to his sides. Just before he pressed her for more, he hesitated. Whoever this woman was, she didn’t seem to know he was a Dragon King, but she sensed he was something more. If he pressured her for more information, she would do the same for him.
Perhaps it was better if he left well enough alone.
They resumed their walk, this time in silence. All the while, he discreetly studied her. Heather carried herself like a woman used to doing things her own way. While he saw no weapons on her person, that didn’t mean there weren’t some hidden or nearby.
Hell, for all he knew, she was a weapon.
Con replayed her words in his head. She teased and cajoled easily, but when he glanced at her now staring ahead, her face devoid of mirth, he caught a glimpse of apprehension about her.
It was fleeting. Most likely something she hid even from herself, but it had him wondering what could bother her so. It angered him that he really wanted to know. He wanted to help her, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why.
He didn’t trust her, which meant he should keep her at arm’s length. Why then, did he have a sense that he should offer his aid in more than shoeing her horse?
Ahead were the gates of Dreagan. She perked up and spoke to the horse when she spotted them. No longer did she try to engage him in conversation. It was obvious she was used to being alone, because she was quite content with her own company. He understood that. While there was always Dragon Kings awake, Con mostly kept to himself.
Not because he didn’t love his brethren. It was because there were many secrets he had to keep – and wounds deep upon his soul he was trying to live with. It was better done in solitude. Besides, the Kings looked to him for answers. He couldn’t bring doubt into their minds by sharing his worries and fears. Of all of them, he was the one who needed to stand strong and unwavering.
Once they reached the barn, Con tried to help her unhitch the horse, but Heather waved him off. He watched her for a moment before he turned on his heel and went to find Roman.
The King of Pale Blue dragons was sorting through various metals before him. He looked up as Con approached and gave a nod of his sandy blond head and faced him. “Kellan found some new metals I’m about to test out.”
Con eyed the stack. While Kellan’s power was finding metals, it was Roman who had the ability to control any metal to form whatever shape he wanted. “I’m curious to see what you create.”
“Aye. But that’s not what brought you to me.” Roman’s green eyes held his. “What is it?”
“I encountered a woman on the road.”
A blond brow shot up. “You left Dreagan?”
“Aye. I visited the pub.”
At that, both brows rose. Roman crossed his arms over his chest and widened his feet. “No’ only did you leave Dreagan, but you went to Laith’s pub? And you spoke to a female?”
“Bloody hell,” Con ground out as he glanced toward the ceiling of the barn. “You make it sound as if such occurrences are cause for concern.”
“With you they are.”
Con drew in a deep breath. “I like to keep all of you on your toes.”
“You do that verra well,” Roman said with a grin. “Now, I gather you didna come here to tell me of your exploits today.”
Con prayed for patience. Of course, Roman would think he’d had a dalliance with the woman, because why else would Con talk to her? He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger before dropping his arm.
“You didna bed her?” Roman asked, surprised.
“Nay, I didna.”
“Was she pretty?”
“Beautiful.” Con had no idea why he said that.
Roman smiled. “If you doona want her, then I might have a go.”
Con stepped to the side and held out his arm. “Be my guest.”
“She’s here?” Roman replied in a shocked whisper.
Con nodded slowly. “Her horse threw a shoe.”
Roman’s smile was gone as he looked from Con to the doorway. After a hesitation, he strode from the barn. Con followed, hiding his grin when Roman drew up short.
“Hello,” Heather said as she patted the mare.
Roman stood staring at her as if he’d never encountered such beauty before, and to be honest, they hadn’t – unless you counted the Fae.
Con came to stand beside him. “Heather, this is Roman. He’ll be happy to shoe the mare.”
“Thank you,” Heather replied, flashing a bright smile to Roman.
Roman bowed his head. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
When Roman had taken the bridle from Heather’s hand, Con turned his attention to her. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat,” she said.
He walked her to the manor, watching as her gaze darted about taking it all in. Dreagan was his pride and joy – as it was to all Dragon Kings. Every one of them had a hand in creating and building everything on the land.
“I have no words to describe the beauty of this place.”
Con’s chest puffed out. Once inside the manor, he observed her as she moved from one painting to another, scrutinizing each. He wondered if she would notice all the dragons around the manor, but if she did, she didn’t say anything. And perhaps that was for the best. It would mean he would need to come up with some excuse, and he didn’t want to lie to her.
On the way to the library, Con motioned to one of the servants t
o bring food. Within the walls of the massive room, he sank into a chair before the cold fireplace and found his gaze on Heather once again.
She moved around the room, her fingers trailing along the spines of the books with her head tilted to read the titles. The longer he was with her, the more he really wanted to know who she was. Or maybe he only yearned for her to be more than a mortal. Maybe he was searching for something that wasn’t there.
That was most likely due to his loneliness. Not that he would admit that to anyone. The spell the Kings put upon themselves never to feel anything for humans was still in place after their betrayal to Ulrik. The treachery also made him extra guarded around women.
Or it usually did. It wasn’t so with Heather.
Con turned his head to the window. Would a day go by where he didn’t think about what happened to his closest friend? Of how it had turned Ulrik so dark that he began a war with the humans? Con was well aware that his actions of binding Ulrik’s magic and banishing him from Dreagan would be one of his greatest regrets.
But Ulrik left him no choice. As King of Dragon Kings, Con had to think about everyone, not just one King or dragon. He had to set aside his personal feelings, and even then, he almost hadn’t been able to do it.
“What has you so sad?”
Con drew in a breath when he realized Heather now stood at the chair opposite him. “The past.”
“Ah,” she replied softly. “The past can have the power to destroy if you allow it.”
“Yet, it is the past that defines us.”
“A past is just that, a past. It may shape who you are now, but that doesn’t mean you should allow it to hold you as it does.”
He slid his gaze to her. “You speak as if from knowledge.”
“Yes.”
The word was said like a whisper. Heather then looked out the window, staring at the sun-soaked glen as sheep lazily munched on the grass. After a moment, she lowered herself into the chair.
“Did you let go of the past?” Con asked.
When she looked at him, a smile in place, he noticed that it was forced. But it was the regret and pain in her gaze that struck him like a punch to the chest.
“I’m working on it,” she admitted.
Con turned his hands over, spreading his fingers and gazed down at his palms. “I’m no’ sure I can.”
“If you don’t, it’ll obliterate you. And everything you’ve built here.”
His gaze snapped up to her. “Meaning?”
Her wide-eyed innocent look was believable as she said. “Look around at this beautiful home. You may have inherited it, but you’re maintaining it. Dreagan is an amazing place. I would hate for you to lose it because of something in the past.”
Con studied her a long, silent moment. He couldn’t tell if she was being coy and choosing her words carefully or if she really didn’t know anything. It was a big chance he was taking in not making a decision, but he knew he couldn’t live with the weight of her death if he killed her and she was an innocent.
But if she knew something…he could be putting Dreagan and every Dragon King in jeopardy.
Not that they couldn’t take care of themselves, but Con didn’t want another war – not with the Fae, humans, or anyone else. He was tired of fighting. But he was also tired of hiding.
Still, if a war with the mortals started up again, he knew the Dark Fae would see an opportunity to attack either the Kings or the mortals. That would mean an attack on two sides.
Then there was Ulrik. He may no longer have his magic, but he was still immortal and carrying a deep hatred for Con. There was little doubt in his mind that Ulrik would also take the chance and attack.
Con wasn’t sure if he could count on the Light Fae for support. Usaeil, the Queen of the Fae, joined him in the past, but that meant nothing now.
“I’ve said something to upset you,” Heather said. She lowered her head. “My apologies. I meant no offence.”
“I’m verra careful of the people I allow on Dreagan, and even more cautious of having strangers know my business.”
She met his gaze and put her hand over her heart. “I’m honored you allowed me to see the splendor of your home. Let me put your mind at ease. I’ve no interest in knowing whatever business you conduct here.”
He raised a brow, listening to each word carefully.
“I spend most of my time in solitude with only my horse for company, and while that doesn’t bother me, when I find someone with your intellect who I find interesting, I like the company.”
It was a plausible explanation. And he really wanted to believe her.
She gathered her hands in her lap and stood. “If you prefer, I can wait in the barn while Roman is working.”
“Nay,” Con said and sat up straight, ready to stop her. He was confused by his actions since he had yet to make up his mind about her, but he knew he liked Heather. “Please, stay.”
With a soft smile, she sank back onto the chair.
For better or worse, Con sealed the fate of everyone on Dreagan by asking Heather to remain. He was taking a chance that she didn’t have a nefarious purpose. It wasn’t normal for him to make such rash decisions. He always looked at each problem or situation at every angle to figure out which was the best course of action.
And yet, he couldn’t seem to follow his own patterns when it came to Heather.
“Where are you traveling to?” he asked after the servant had brought in a tray of food.
Heather was quick to take a bite. She chewed and swallowed before she said, “I’ve no destination in mind. I go where the road takes me.”
“Is that no’ dangerous?”
“You mean because I’m a woman?” she asked with a grin.
He smiled and nodded in agreement. “Aye. It’s something a man would do, and no one would question him.”
“So why cannot a woman do the same?”
“I doona have a problem with that, but others doona feel the same.”
“I don’t understand narrow-mindedness.”
Con leaned his head against the high-backed chair. “Neither do I.”
“It’s silly that a woman shouldn’t be able to travel on her own without others looking down on her. I’ve as much right to the road and the sky above me as any man.”
He stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles. “Aye.”
“You say that, but you also questioned me.”
“I questioned your safety. That isna the same. Bandits are everywhere. They would see you as a prize.”
She set down her goblet after taking a drink. “I’d like them to try and attack me.”
“Could you defend yourself against three men? Six? More?” When she didn’t reply, he continued. “That is why I question you traveling alone.”
Licking her lips, Heather leaned back in the chair. “Tell me, would it do me any good if I had another woman with me? What about an elderly man? I would be more concerned about protecting them against such rabble than I would about myself.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a man capable of fighting alongside you.”
Her gaze went out the window, but it was the deep longing he saw that made him frown.
She took a breath. “And how would this capable man and I stand against six or more attackers?”
Con linked his fingers together. He couldn’t exactly tell her that if she had a Dragon King with her, no one would even look sideways at her. Because they weren’t talking about Dragon Kings. They were discussing mortals. And that was something all together different.
Her head swung to him, tilting a little. “We would fare no better than if I was alone.”
“Point taken. However, individuals might think twice about bothering you if you had someone with you.”
“It’s a chance I take.”
“Why?” he pressed, suddenly curious.
She put a piece of meat in her mouth and chewed. “That past I spoke of, my journey is helping me control it instead of it co
ntrolling me.”
“I take that to mean things are going well?”
“They did for a while. Then there was an…issue that arose. I failed to handle it quickly enough.”
Con fisted his hands before laying them on the arms of the chair. “But you did take care of it?”
“If I said no, would you offer to help?” she asked with a small smile.
“I might.”
“That is very kind of you, but there is no need. Everything is once more in order.”
One of the strings tying his cuffs together came undone. Con sighed in frustration, but did nothing to fix it. Heather moved the tray from her lap and rose. She then dropped down on her knees next to his chair. On instinct, Con pulled his arm away.
“I don’t bite,” she said with a gleam in her eye and held out her hand.
He wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t bite, but he was unable to refuse her anything. Con gave her his arm. Her fingers never touched his skin as she quickly tied the ribbon into a bow. In the next moment, she was back in her chair.
“Thank you,” he said.
“I imagine those come loose often.”
He flattened his lips, hating the ribbon. “Aye.”
“You should really think about using something else.”
“Fashion isna something I care about.”
“Why not?”
He frowned at her. “Why should it be?”
“You say you don’t have a title, and yet you run Dreagan. Do you think people would listen to you if you walked about in peasant clothing? They want to know your estate is doing well, which means you need to dress the part.” She held out her hand, indicating his current attire. “You say you don’t care about fashion, but you’re wearing the latest clothing. Not to mention the material is of the highest quality.”
Unable to help himself, he chuckled. “You’re calling me a liar.”
“Well,” she said and shrugged. “I think I’d rather say I’m pointing out a fact.”
“To be fair, I do wear the clothes of my station.”