by Alyse Zaftig
The next night it had been less than five minutes before he was building the fire, chasing away the chill of the early evening. Again, we had sat in our designated spots, each pretending to read. I knew I was pretending, and I was pretty sure he was too, unless he read at four words per hour, considering how many times he turned the page. I had spent the evening spying out of the corner of my eye, watching the flames flicker and dance over his strong jawline, outlining his pursed lips, and caressing his furrowed brow. Not to mention the side-ogling I’d managed to sneak in here and there, his body laid out for my eyes to paint into my memory, capturing every broad angle and thick muscle for later. For when I was in bed, alone.
What he was doing? I wasn’t sure, but it felt very much like a truce. A time out from the madness that had consumed us both upon meeting.
It was now the third evening.
The door creaked open, his dark head leaning in. His eyes darted from the couch to where I sat, still hunched over the desk, mocking me for slaving away at a thankless task. His blue eyes assessed me. “You’re still here?”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, the sharpness having faded from his voice to be replaced with a good dose of sarcasm and a hint of … I tried to put my finger on it … maybe wistfulness?
“I haven’t made my decision yet.” On impulse, I stuck my tongue out at him, then dragged my eyes back down to my notepad. I’d completed most of my tasks, something that both thrilled and scared the hell out of me, because it meant that I would have to decide soon. Which box to tick? Astrid’s donation had nearly all been allocated, only one small chunk remaining, and surprisingly the clan wasn’t doing as bad as I’d first assessed. Someone had been careful not to jeopardize the livelihood of it’s members, funneling just enough funds into several accounts to hold them over for at least one more winter. The main house and land had taken the largest hit, but I’d tracked down receipts of sales of everything worth more than a few dollars, scraps of paper hidden deep in the bottom of the filling cabinet and tucked into a plain folder, out of sight. Piecing together the paper chain had been hard, but I finally had the big picture.
I knew what he’d done.
“You played to win.”
Bastian had been half way inside the room and closing the door behind him when I’d spoken. He froze at the accusation in my voice. Shrugging, he pressed the heavy wood closed until it clicked, then strode across the room to where his brandy bottle rested. Seconds ticked by as he poured himself a large measure of the molten brown liquid, raising the heavy tumbler to his lips and sipping with all the air of a gentleman relaxing at home. “Don’t we all?” he finally replied, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.
Taking my glasses off, I tossed them onto the desk. “No. I mean you really played to win. You didn’t gamble anything you couldn’t afford, and you didn’t expect to lose.”
“Hmmm. I think you’ll find you’re wrong there.” Liquid sloshed in the glass as he rocked the crystal back and forth between loose fingers, while propping a shoulder against the huge slate plinth that ran the length of the open fireplace.
He might appear loose and relaxed to anyone else, but I’d been watching him for three days now—okay, a little closer than was probably healthy—and I knew his tells. The skin of his throat tightened as he ground his teeth together, along with the fact that he rubbed his thumb along his little finger every single goddamned time. No wonder he’d lost. “Here.” I jabbed a finger at the papers strewn in front of me. “And here, and here. Explain this then.”
“What exactly are you looking for me to say, sweetheart?” His thumb smoothed along his nail, back and forth.
“You took precautions, diverted money so it couldn’t be touched to funnel down to the clan members ensuring their business survived. You sold everything in the house, everything you had to pay the debt, and even when you had nothing more, you still didn’t empty the accounts. You tried to hide it, but you couldn’t. There’s always a paper trail, Bastian.”
He tilted his head, acknowledging my words, then shrugged them off. “And? I still gambled away the family fortune.”
“You’re not as reckless as you’d like to think.”
He took another sip of brandy, appearing to savor the liquid as he swallowed. “Are you sure about that?” It was a throaty murmur, accompanied by a raised eyebrow.
I sat back in my chair, dreams of him admitting everything and falling at my feet in groveling gratitude disappearing in a pop. “Completely. Are you ready to tell me the truth yet?”
“I already did.”
I cursed under my breath, earning a low chuckle. “No. You didn’t. The bullshit about rebuilding the clan … that’s what it was—complete bullshit!”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth.” His lips twitched, causing my temper to flare and blood pressure to sky rocket.
“Just tell me, already! I won’t put it in my report. I won’t expose your huge secret, but I need to know, Bastian!” I half shouted. Sliding off the chair, I strode over to him, determined that this time he was going to tell me the goddamned truth. Why the hell should he care what I think anyway? He hadn’t tried to jump me once in the last couple of days, not since that time in the basement. And his rejection stung more than I was willing to admit.
“Why, Faye? Can you not bring yourself to believe that I’m a worthless bastard? Someone who only thinks of himself? Yes, I care about the clan, but it still wasn’t enough, was it? I still lost all our money, dragged our name through the dirt, nearly ended up in debt to the Skyblade Clan, something I would have regretted every day of my goddamn life, if not for Astrid sweeping in and saving the day. She did that, not me. She found a way to buy time so I could figure this mess out, something I was doing until you knocked on my door three fucking days ago!”
Whoa. Information overload. Latching onto the comment that stung the most, I rounded on him, jabbing a finger into his chest and invading his air space. “You are not worthless, and if I ever hear you dismiss yourself like that again, I’ll…” I racked my brain for a suitable punishment, “I’ll pin you down and twist your balls until you say sorry.” Okay, not the most unique threat, but men were … attached to their crown jewels.
He stared at me, as if afraid to blink in case I made good on my threat. “Are you finished?”
“No,” I muttered, but the steam was evaporating as quickly as it had boiled over. I sucked at staying mad; I wasn’t naturally a volatile person.
“Good. You’re ferocious when you’re pissed, aren’t you?” Still eyeing me carefully, he offered me his glass.
Grabbing it, I downed the fiery liquid in one swallow, my eyes watering and throat burning through the splutter. Heat spread through my stomach, a languid warmth reaching out into my limbs and spreading a smile over my face. “Why aren’t you angry? I got all up in your face, poking you in the chest—” I broke off to give his chest a loving look, my next thought being that the alcohol had gone straight to my head, “—and threatening to hurt your balls, but you’re not mad at me.”
He bit back a chuckle, thinking better of it as I glared at him. “Sure, I’m angry—”
My stomach performed a summersault.
“—Fucking furious, but not with you, sweetheart.” His finger tilted my chin, lifting my head up to meet his gaze. “Never with you. I would rather die than hurt you in any way.” His lips clamped shut, biting off his words, but they were out there, swimming around in my alcohol fuzzed up brain, multiplying and expanding until they were almost shouting.
“Who are you angry with?” But what I really wanted to ask was: if you feel this way, then why push me away? But I didn’t, I wasn’t that far gone. I willed him to answer me, to cast aside all the half truths and take a chance.
“Myself.” He paused, looking like he would give anything to not continue, but he did, “my dragon.” Another pause, and this time it was his eyes that left mine. He took a deep breath, as though bracing himself. �
��He abandoned me after Astrid left.”
Chapter 6
Faye
Head spinning, I did what I did best—sorted the information out into relevant categories, assigning levels of priority while looking for connecting links. But I came up blank. “Your dragon abandoned you?”
A sharp nod.
“What does that even mean?” I spoke my thoughts out loud, not thinking about filtering them. This was too important to pussy foot around; he was opening up to me, something I’d been pestering him to do for days. Maybe I could help.
“You can’t fix me, sweetheart.”
“I wasn’t think—”
“Yes, you were. If we’re being honest with each other—brutal, I might add—then give me the courtesy of not lying to my face. You want to fix me. You can’t.” A shrug accompanied the words, a mask to hide his inner turmoil.
My anger bubbled up again. Something about this man just … riled me up, sparking emotions that were at odds with my usual calm outlook on life. Shoving my hands on my hips, I stared him down. “Don’t lie to me then. You’re acting like this doesn’t bother you one little bit. That’s crap—own it.”
“Touché, little spitfire. It eats me alive and spits me out a broken man. Fuck that, a ghost of a man.” Pulling away from the hearth, he straightened, towering over me, his eyes glinting with barely contained rage. “You couldn’t even begin to understand what it feels like to be a shifter that can’t shift.”
“So, you can’t shift.”
“Didn’t I just say that?” His voice came out on a hiss, as though by admitting his problem out loud, judgment would strike him down.
“You’re still the alpha of the Jewelcrest Clan, and still a powerful man.”
His laughter was low and hollow. “For how long? Once I’m found out then I would be challenged, the clan would come under new leadership, be absorbed into another, or be broken up into pieces. Either way, Jewelcrest would cease to exist as we know it.”
“Pretty much what was going to happen as the result of your gambling,” I pointed out.
“A misjudgment on my part.”
Clarity hit me. “You were trying to build the clan up, to make it invincible to attack.”
“Yes and no. I was trying to give myself a cushion to figure things out. Wealth solves a lot of problems.”
“But, Jewelcrest was already rich.”
“Not so, sweetheart. After my parents died and Astrid left, I discovered that things weren’t quite as comfortable as they had appeared. Astrid taking her inheritance with her had practically emptied the coffers. We were rich in land and valuable artifacts, but any money left was earmarked for clan business.”
“Like the village?”
Another nod. “Catch on fast, don’t you?”
This earned him a smack to the chest. “Try and control your urge to talk down to me, Bash.”
His grin spread, this time reaching his eyes. “Carry on like this and I’ll have to rethink my earlier assessment of you.”
I knew I shouldn’t ask. I knew that I was playing straight into his hands, but I couldn’t help it. “Which was?”
He leaned down, crowding me with his large, muscular body, his familiar scent tickling my nose and turning reasonable thought to mush. Reaching out, he fingered a stray curl, giving it a gentle tug. “That you were sweet and innocent.”
A strangled sound burst out of my mouth. “I don’t know what gave you that impression.” Unfortunately, my voice sounded all breathy and weak, not the sharp, snappy comeback I’d been aiming for.
“Don’t worry, you’ve educated me.”
What did he mean by that? “Astrid leaving really screwed you up, didn’t it?”
He flinched, his jaw grinding. “In more ways than one.”
“Does she know?”
His gaze lingered on me, then he strode over to the window. “No, and I would never burden her. This is my guilt, not hers.”
Giving him his space, I made my way over to the couch, settling down and tucking my feet up. “Because you didn’t stop her from leaving?”
His posture stiffened, and I wished that I could see his face. “Because I didn’t stand up for her when she needed me.”
“You were young—”
“I was the new Alpha; she was my sister. She ran—not only from the clan—but from me too. I failed her. There was no excuse,” he growled, his shoulders hunching and his hands hardening into fists.
He was hurting, but was too proud to ask for help. Or accept it. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
Minutes passed and I was starting to think he hadn’t heard me, then he rolled his shoulders back and made his way over to his usual chair. Gripping the tall back, he stroked a finger across the spotted fabric, tracing the raised bumps with a deliberate precision that hinted at his hidden turmoil. “Which box are you going to tick?”
Drawing my eyebrows together, I replied, “I don’t think that’s what we should be…” At the look on his face, my voice trailed off.
“You want to fix me, but you can’t. You can fix what’s wrong with my clan, though. Give me a chance to do right by them.”
And what about you? What will you do? The questions rested on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t give them life. “You were never an addict, were you?”
He tilted his head, looking past me and over my shoulder. “Probably not, it’s hard to tell. I enjoyed the buzz. The high. I’m the kind of man who enjoys things that make me feel good. Is that enough of an answer?”
“Why did you pretend to be?”
“What should I have told Astrid? The truth? It was easier this way.”
“But … she could read your mind!” I blurted out. It was there, in the file. Astrid was a Seer—a green dragon—gifted with the power to read minds and see the future.
“What I wanted her to read. We’re siblings, cut from the same DNA. My dragon might have been silver, but I’m an alpha and her brother.”
Might have been. He’d already given up.
“Faye, you should know, I will do anything to protect my clan, including lying if I have to.”
“Is that all?” I injected a good dose of sarcasm into my voice, but underneath it all, I could understand. He’d do anything for those he loved, what more could anyone ask?
“Pretty much.”
“What would you have done with the money if you’d have won?”
He paused, as if not sure whether to share, but then his low voice filled the room, “Among other things, the clan needs a school for our children. At the moment all our children either bus to a neighboring clan, or are homeschooled. If I could provide a means for a stable education, future generations would be better equipped to deal with this new world that we live in. Families would grow and the clan could expand. Businesses would prosper because the workforce would be plentiful and innovative. The circle of life, sweetheart.”
His quiet statement rocked me in it’s simplicity. He had been looking forward, contemplating a future in which the clan members weren’t as reliant on the Alpha family as in olden times. Social and economic growth. I now knew exactly what to do with the small surplus of Astrid’s money that I hadn’t managed to allocate.
I leaped to my feet, nearly stumbling in my haste. I pointed a finger at him. “Show me.”
His eyes widened, then narrowed as a smirk spread across his face. “Sweetheart, you only had to ask.” His hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans.
I threw my hands up, squeezing my eyes shut. Though I did peek a fraction—I was only human, after all, and if he wanted to get butt naked for my benefit… Concentrate, Faye! “No! Not that,” I blurted out, all the while wondering why the hell I was stopping him. And, actually, why the hell his mind always seemed to circle back to sex! Not that I was any better. Visions of him naked and pinning me down were never far from my mind, along with a whole lot of licking. And kissing. And nibbling. Maybe even some sucking. Hmmm.
“Faye?”
&nbs
p; “Yep?” I peeled an eye open. Damn, he was still dressed, one eyebrow hovering near his hairline. Yeah, I had a problem. A large, hunk of a problem.
That infuriating smirk still played on his lips, but underneath there was a certain … stillness. A predator awaiting his prey’s next move. “Did I misread…?” His hand gestured his groin area.
At least he didn’t stroke himself. I wasn’t sure I was that strong. “Yes.” Dammit! “Show me where you were planning to build the school.”
Bastian
Once again, she’d surprised me. Just when I thought I’d figured her out, she came out with something like this—demanding that I show her my vision.
Something I hadn’t shared with anyone else.
The evening clung to us as we walked down the lane toward the village, stars forming in the purple-black hue of dusk, the air cool and still as if awaiting our next move. Stones skittered and crunched under our feet, the odd chirp of a bird settling in for the night, an owl hooting in the surrounding forest filled the air. Tall trees reached up to the sky on either side of the lane, the branches forming a leafy arch in places and blotting out the civilized world.
We could have been anywhere, in any time period, had it not been for the fact that our legs were clad in denim rather than cloth, and the familiar weight of my cell phone in my back pocket.
Faye walked by my side, matching her steps to mine. Or had I matched mine to hers? Her breath puffed out, her cheeks tinted pink and curls bouncing back and forth.