by Rinelle Grey
Brad put a hand on her knee. “You didn’t fail,” he said softly. “You are doing a fantastic job. I bet it’s not easy, being a mother, a dragon, and a princess. But I also reckon no one could do a better job than you’re doing.”
Lyrian stared at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s kind of you to say it, Brad. And I know you mean it. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.”
“Nothing ever is,” Brad said softly. He certainly knew all about that feeling. He hesitated for a minute, he didn’t normally talk about his own failures. Even admitting to them was hard. But his need to help Lyrian was greater than his own fears. “You know I’m a surgeon, right?”
Lyrian stared at him, then nodded.
“Well, one of the realities of being a surgeon, a healer, is that sometimes, you fail.”
Brad’s voice choked a little. He hated thinking about the people he hadn’t been able to save, but that didn’t mean he ever forgot any of them. Not a single name. That was one of the downsides to having an excellent memory.
Lyrian put a hand on his knee, offering silent support.
She wasn’t the first one. Doctors did stick together. All of them knew the pain of losing someone in the operating theatre. But their sympathy had never helped him one little bit. Brad had always borne it with good grace, and thanked them, then retreated as quickly as he could, embarrassed.
It didn’t feel like that with Lyrian. He could almost feel the sympathy envelop him like a warm hug. She wasn’t just going through a motion, she truly cared.
“There are many people I couldn’t save,” Brad said, his voice low. “And after each one, you analyse the situation, think of all the things you could have done differently that might have changed the outcome. Sometimes, nothing you could have done would have made any difference. Those are easier to let go.”
His voice lowered again. This was the part he’d never admitted to anyone before. “And sometimes you wonder if you’d taken a different path, done something different, if you might have been able to save them.”
Lyrian’s hand on his knee squeezed a little, and the gentle encouragement helped Brad continue. “I can’t go back and change any of those times. I can’t go back and save those people. I know I did the best I could with the information I had available at the time, but it doesn’t help.”
“So why do you keep doing it, if it hurts so much?”
Brad looked up, his eyes meeting hers. “Because if I don’t, then people who I could have saved would die,” he said simply.
He’d intended the story to help Lyrian understand that sometimes, your best was all you could do. But she was staring at him with a different understanding in her eyes.
“That’s why you had to go back to America,” she said softly.
Brad hesitated, then nodded slowly. “It was,” he said.
Lyrian’s eyes were sad, a sadness that was echoed in Brad’s heart. “Your people need you as much as my people need me.”
Brad hesitated, but no matter how much of a big shot he thought he was, it wasn’t really the same. No matter which way he looked at it, it wasn’t on par with being a princess. Lyrian wasn’t just responsible for the life and death decisions of one person, she had a whole community, a whole clan to care for.
If something happened to her, he was pretty sure no one could replace her.
“Not quite. A surgeon is important, but I’m not the only one. If I leave, there are others who will take my place.”
Another thing he didn’t usually admit. Lyrian really was bringing out the best in him. Or maybe the worst. He wasn’t sure which.
“I bet they’re not as good as you.”
Her blind faith in his abilities both touched and surprised him. She’d never seen him operate. Knew nothing about what he did or how well he did it. But still, she believed he was the best.
The trouble was, it only rammed home to him that he wasn’t.
He’d always wanted to believe that he had something special, something that set him apart. But somehow, sitting beside Lyrian, a dragon princess, as she fed their baby daughter, he didn’t feel special at all.
He felt wholly inadequate.
He might be good at one, specific thing, but there were a whole host of things he wasn’t good at. And one of them, protecting her and their baby, was far more important than anything else he'd ever done.
And it was the one he was least qualified for.
Chapter 17
Lyrian was glad Brad was opening up to her and telling her a bit about himself. The trouble was, all it was doing was convincing her that any relationship between them was doomed to failure.
Oh sure, he’d said his people could manage without him, that someone would replace him if he left. And maybe that was true. If something happened to her, then her brothers and sisters would fill in any spaces. But that didn’t mean her people didn’t need her. It didn’t mean there weren’t things she could do better than her brothers and sisters.
That was part of the reason her mother had chosen different fathers for all her children, so that they would have a range of dragon abilities and be able to connect with each segment of the clan. The wind dragons looked to her to champion their cause specifically, just as the fire dragons looked to Taurian and the metal dragons looked to Warrian.
And the lightning dragons had looked to Sarian, until they’d followed Ultrima and left.
No good plan ever worked quite the way you expected.
Brad might plan to leave his job, he might even be convinced it was the right thing to do, the thing he wanted. But would it end up that way? Or would he resent having given up everything that had been important to him for her.
Because she’d had a baby.
Would he even be considering this if it weren’t for Anarian?
Lyrian bit back a sigh.
They weren’t just two people who met and had an amazing week together, followed by a beautiful baby. Neither of them could just put their lives aside because of their relationship.
They both had important roles to play in their own respective circles.
She could no more ask Brad to give up his job as a surgeon than she could ever give up being a princess. It wouldn’t be fair, to him or his people.
Or to hers.
She had a job to do, just as much as he did. She needed to grow up, and accept her responsibilities and her failures, just as he did.
Lyrian straightened her shoulders, disturbing Anarian at the breast. The baby gave a gulp and rooted for the nipple again.
Of course, Lyrian had two responsibilities now—her clan and her baby.
Then again, so did Brad.
How were they ever going to figure this out?
Did any of it matter right now? If she didn’t even have a clan, she wasn’t a princess.
That was the first step, to find her brother and hope they knew how to find her clan. Of course, since Verrian was apparently still with the humans, then it was possible he had no more idea about how to find her clan than she did.
Lyrian shook her head. She could make guesses all day, but none of it would help. What she needed was answers. Concrete answers.
Which meant they had to go back into the human town and get the map they had left at the pub. That was the only clue she had to Verrian’s whereabouts.
“What do we do now?” Lyrian asked, her voice quiet.
Brad must have been thinking the same thing, because he answered her with a sigh.
He was silent for a long moment, and Lyrian’s heart skipped a beat. She shouldn’t have started talking about his responsibilities. What would she do if he said he had to go back to them now? How would she manage any of this on her own? She didn’t know anything about maps, or finding a specific human in amongst all the others. Especially not now that the Trima dragons knew where she’d been hiding all this time?
Before Lyrian could do anything more than panic, Brad took a deep breath and looked up at her. “We can’t go back into town
tonight. They’ll be looking for us. Tomorrow morning, early, we’ll go into the pub and get the map. Then we can find Lisa. Until then, we’ll have to hide out here and hope that no dragons find us.”
It wasn’t an ideal plan. Lyrian would have preferred to have something she could do right now, she was tired of sitting around waiting. But it was better than no plan.
Lyrian usually wasn’t the planning type. She liked to be able to make things up as she went along—it made it easier to adapt when things changed. But today having a plan made her feel good. Prepared. Today it enabled her to settle back on the rock and feed her baby without stressing. “Can you get Anarian’s rug out of the car?” she asked Brad.
He brought the sheepskin over, and once the baby had finished feeding, Lyrian laid her down for a nap.
“I wish we had a sheepskin that big for us,” Brad said, frowning a little. “I’m sorry, Lyrian. It’s not going to be terribly comfortable out here.”
Lyrian stared at him, at his serious expression, and gave a laugh.
“What?” Brad demanded.
“You humans are so soft,” Lyrian teased. “Dragons are used to sleeping on the ground.”
She ignored the fact that she’d become used to sleeping on a mattress at Henry’s. That she'd actually quite liked it. Just because she’d become accustomed to comfort didn’t mean she couldn’t get by without it.
She could do something to make the ground a bit more comfortable though. “Come on, I’ll show you how dragons make beds.”
Brad looked unconvinced, but he did follow her. “I guess it’s kind of like camping,” he said. “I was never big on that either.”
Lyrian looked around for a bush she knew had soft, springy leaves, and began breaking off small branches. “Here, help me collect some of these.”
Brad’s expression was doubtful, but he helped anyway.
While she gathered the leaves, Lyrian considered her options. Usually she’d have a skin of some sort to put over the branches, to make it a little more comfortable. But she didn’t have that here. What could she use instead?
She wished she’d thought more before leaving Henry’s. There were so many more things she could have brought with them to make this more comfortable. It just hadn’t occurred to her that they’d be sleeping outdoors.
Once she’d laid down the branches in a pile though, Brad headed to the ute. He pulled out his bag, and took a few t-shirts, and laid them over the branches. “It’s not much,” he said apologetically. “But maybe it will help a little.”
It did. After she’d finished, Lyrian glanced over at Anarian, who still slept soundly on her sheepskin. Later, when they were planning to sleep, she’d move it onto the bed so that Anarian could be comfortable and close. But there was no point in disturbing her sleep now.
She lay down on the makeshift bed to test it out, and Brad lay next to her.
He put his hands behind his head, and stared up at the rocky outcropping. “It’s not too bad.” His cheerfulness was forced.
Lyrian wriggled a little, pushing down a few branches that poked into her skin, and tried to ignore the way Brad’s closeness made her stomach do flip flops. That wasn’t so easy to do.
Now she was regretting not putting the branches into two piles, with a gap between them.
In the hotel, they’d been pretending to be husband and wife, sharing a bed had been part of that deception. Out here, there was no one to see the fact that they weren’t sleeping together, not in any sense of the words.
She’d made one bed simply because it was more efficient use of the branches. She hadn’t stopped to think about the fact that she and Brad weren’t a couple.
It was dangerous to be this close to him. His presence was too tempting. She had to keep reminding herself that if they slept together again, they’d be mated for life. Lyrian tried to keep her breathing even. Tried not to think about reaching over to give Brad a hug.
On the surface, the gesture seemed so innocent. She could simply be saying thank you for all his help since he’d arrived.
But she knew that if she touched him, she’d lose any last bit of self control that she was hanging onto.
Brad seemed to have no such concerns, he reached out, his hand fumbling for hers, and when he found it, his fingers closed over hers.
Heat surged through Lyrian, and as Brad glanced over and his eyes darkened, she knew he felt it too. He rolled towards her, not touching, but close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, and stared into her eyes.
“What are we doing here, Lyrian?” he asked, his voice soft.
She could feel the breath from his words on her cheek.
It was so tempting. She could just roll over, let her body fall against his, and let nature take its course.
She wanted to.
She was pretty sure he did too.
But he didn’t know the risks.
It wasn’t that she didn’t care about Brad. Not even that she would be unhappy to be bonded to him for the rest of her life.
Maybe he even wanted that too.
But both of them had other lives. Other responsibilities. They couldn’t have this.
She heaved a big sigh.
Brad released her hand, and reached up to her face, turning it gently towards him. “What is it?” he asked. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
How could she even begin to explain? “We can’t do this,” she said softly.
Brad stared into her eyes, his gaze intense. “Why not? What’s stopping us? You want it as much as I do, don’t you? I can make sure, this time, that you don’t get pregnant again, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
That hadn’t even occurred to Lyrian, and it wasn’t her main concern. “We can’t, Brad. We can’t have this. Once we find my brothers, you’re going to go back to America, and I have a clan to rule. It’s just not possible.”
Brad was silent. His eyes shifted away from hers.
Lyrian’s heart fell a little. She’d half hoped, after all they’d been through the last few days, and with Anarian here, that he’d immediately offer to stay. That was selfish of her.
Then Brad looked into her eyes, his expression intense. “Look, maybe there’s some way we can make this work. Flights aren’t that expensive, and I’ll be visiting often to see Anarian anyway. I know it’s not the same as if I were here all the time, but…” His voice trailed off, and he paused to lick his lips. “I really feel something for you, Lyrian. Something I’ve never felt with any other woman, and I don’t want to just give this up without even trying.”
Lyrian’s heart skipped a beat. Oh how she wanted to say yes and throw herself into his arms.
It took all her willpower to shake her head. “I can’t, Brad. Yes, I want this too, but I know that if we do, you’re never going to want to leave. And I can’t be responsible for tearing you away from your commitments.”
Brad’s hand slipped down to her hip and pulled her towards him.
Lyrian didn’t even put up a token resistance. In reality, she ached to be closer to him. Her body almost sighed in happiness at resting up against his.
She was so tempted to throw caution to the wind, to let fate take its chances.
But she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair. To either of them.
“We can’t, Brad,” she protested, but her voice was weak. Uncertain.
“We could try.” Brad caressed her cheek, bringing her closer and closer to not caring.
She needed to tell him. Lyrian heaved a sigh. “It’s not that simple for dragons.”
Brad’s hand paused, and he stared into her eyes. “What do you mean?”
Lyrian took a deep breath. “Dragon mating is different to humans. When we mate, we mate for life. There’s no changing our mind later.”
A frown creased Brad’s brow. “No changing your mind? Everyone can change their mind.”
His hand didn’t start moving again. In fact, he pulled it back, staring at her in confusion.
Lyrian almost wished she could take back the words. To go back to the caressing and the closeness. She could have enjoyed it for a little bit longer, even if she knew they couldn’t go all the way.
But it was too late now. She needed to explain.
“If dragons sleep together three times, they form a mating bond,” she explained. “A permanent bond that ties them together, forever.”
Brad stared at her. “A mating bond?” he repeated. “What does that mean?”
Lyrian wasn’t quite sure how to explain. “It’s a magical connection of souls. Once it’s formed, dragons don’t change their mind. It never even occurs to them to look at anyone else. They have eyes only for each other.”
Brad sucked in his breath, but he wasn’t pulling away. In fact, he was staring at her, his eyes boring into her.
As though they were already mate bonded.
Lyrian could barely breathe. Was he going to choose her?
Could she possibly say no if he did?
Before she could decide, his expression changed. Fear crept into his eyes, darkening them. He rolled away, and sat up, his back to her, and Lyrian felt the loss keenly.
“I’m sorry, Lyrian. I want to. I really do. I’d love nothing more than for us to be a family, all three of us. But I can’t. I just…” He ran his hands through his hair, looking back over his shoulder towards her, his eyes haunted.
Lyrian tried to tell herself she was okay with that. Tried to tell herself that he was making the right decision. She knew. She understood. But in reality, her heart was breaking. She didn’t want it to be true. She wanted him to say he could find a way.
Brad kept talking. “I care about you, Lyrian. You know I do. But I can’t just walk away from my job without warning. It's just all happening too quickly.”
Despite how much it hurt, Lyrian knew he was right. This wasn’t about her, or their feelings for each other. It was about something bigger than that. For both of them. As a dragon princess, she had responsibilities too. She should be the one pulling back from this, not sitting here hoping he’d decide it was worth it anyway.
She sat up and put her hand on his back, the closeness of that action tinged with bittersweet sorrow. “I understand,” she said softly. “I can’t give up my clan either.”