by S. A. Ravel
"You were right.” He didn’t took look away from their daughter as he spoke.
Sanaa froze. Her brow furrowed. "About what?"
“I fucked up, too. I sent you away on pain of death, and then treated you like shit for doing what I told you to when circumstances changed.”
Her eyes drifted to the baby. Even as the Dragon spoke he never stopped interacting with her. He tickled her toes until she giggled. When she got tired of that, he offered his index finger to her, poking her nose gently. Sanaa didn’t want to soften, but it was hard to stay cold while watching them bond. “You said you had your reasons. I think I deserve to hear them.”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “How much do you know about dragon mating?”
“You mean other than first-hand knowledge?”
Ronin snorted. “I’m not talking about how we fuck. I mean how we form couples. Family units.”
“Not a damn thing,” she said.
“The first cycle hits dragon males in their twenties. We can bind ourselves to a woman, which comes with its own issues if you’re not careful, or we can be stubborn and fight through it.”
“You don’t look twenty to me, no offense.”
He laughed. “I’m a long way from my first heat and I’ve managed for longer than you would think on my own. The point is once a bond is forged that’s it. There is no breaking it while both partners live.”
Realization dawned on her. “You don’t have to worry about me trying to trap you. I didn’t even know any of this until you told me.”
“You work for a vet. Does it matter to any animal who’s under its cock when it’s time to breed?”
She speared another fried potato and shoved it into her mouth. “Fine, I’ll keep my pants on while I’m here, as long as you do the same.”
Ronin sighed and reached forward, catching her free hand in his. “I’m not accusing you of anything, Sanaa. I’m trying to explain why my…heart…isn’t mine to give.”
Fine. He could keep it for all she cared. Love and romance were for people who didn’t have blood demons attacking them every night. Not for strangers suddenly locked in one another’s lives because of the child they shared. “Can we just call it even and move on?”
He shook his head. “Tempting as that sounds, I need you to understand. Just because you and I aren’t bonded yet, doesn’t mean I’m not bonded to her.” He gestured toward their daughter, who was now trying to shove a strip of ribbon from the pillow into her mouth.
An emotion Sanaa couldn't identify swept over her, leaving her hands trembling and her eyes wet with tears. She set the fork down and cleared her throat. "Why are you telling me this?"
He reached across the table, hooking a finger under her chin and forcing her to meet his eyes. "Because, for our daughter's sake, I need you to stop seeing me as an enemy."
She shook her head. "I don’t.”
"Sanaa, I write traumatized women for a living. And I'm very good at what I do."
"Are you saying my emotions are predictable?"
Ronin grazed her cheek with his thumb. "Not at all. I'm saying the sentiment is justified, but it's also going to get our little girl killed."
He was right, of course. About everything. From the moment, he issued the order to the moment he unleashed his wrath before the Elders, Sanaa feared the dragon as much as the dark walker. Threats on her life had that affect. Two people couldn't be allies if they could barely be friends.
"What do you want?" she whispered.
"A little trust, if you can manage it. You in fighting condition," he pushed the plate toward her. "And a few answers."
"To what questions?”
"Why is the dark walker hunting our girl?"
Sanaa took a breath to steady herself. Ronin had admitted his fault, the least she could do was return the favor. "About two weeks ago I took the baby into the city. I didn't realize I was looking for my mother until I was standing in front of her house. I don't know what the hell I was thinking."
That was a lie. She knew exactly why she sought her mother that day, but she wasn't prepared to share that with the Dragon. Not yet.
If the dragon knew she wasn't telling the truth, nothing in his expression gave it away. "You think she's hunting her to punish you?"
Sanaa shook her head. "I know she isn't. Niabe's hunting the baby because she wants her imprint."
Ronin's brow furrowed. "I thought skinwalkers don't receive their imprint until they come of age."
"We don't, but she was born with hers. A gift from you, I suppose. If you want me to trust you, you are going to have to trust me. We can't do this without the Elders on our side."
Ronin rolled his eyes. "Woman, how many times are we going to go through this?”
"As many as it fucking takes for you to get it. Even if we manage to kill Niabe, our daughter’s future won’t be secure until–”
“She has a mother who screams lightening and a father who breathes fire. I think she’ll be fine without a bunch of bureaucrats telling her she shouldn’t exist.“
“Could you maybe for five minutes pretend you don't have complete contempt for my entire culture?"
"It's not your culture I have a problem with. It's the idea that our daughter needs their approval to exist. Or anyone else.”
Sanaa raked her fingers through her head. How many times had she told herself that she didn’t need the Bloodbones? At least a dozen times since she found out she was knocked up. Defiance came easy when stakes were low.
"It isn't about their approval. She’s the only dragon imprint skinwalker on the planet. If we do things right they have to accept her. The tribe is only as strong as each of us, and each of us is only as strong as the tribe."
"It's a nice slogan, Sanaa, but the reality is they threatened to eject her from their community the first time she became inconvenient."
"They didn't threaten," Sanaa said as she speared another potato. “Me admitting that she was fathered by a man outside the tribe immediately removed her from it."
The Dragon narrowed his eyes. "And these are the people whose help you are trying to convince me we need?"
Sanaa set her fork aside. "All right, what's your plan?"
A smirk came to his lips. Damn that man was sexy when he was mischievous. "You'll tell me where my darling mother-in-law lives, and I'll go have a chat with her."
"You mean you're going to roast her building? Subtle."
"As satisfying as that would be, no. There would be too much collateral damage. The dark walker will require a more delicate...personal touch."
His choice of words sent a shiver down Sanaa's spine, but she reminded herself that it was Niabe who had started the fight. "And if she kills you? What then?"
"Then our daughter will have you as her last champion." He said the words casually, as if he had no doubt that Sanaa would be up for the challenge, even though a group of guppies had kicked her ass during the first assault.
"And when I fail? What then? Who'll defend her then?"
Ronin opened his mouth to speak then grunted in frustration. Sanaa knew the emotion well. She felt it dozens of times a day, more since her mother's attacks began.
“Our daughter is the first dragon skinwalker ever born. That community is our daughter's birthright. If you won't honor it for me...I'm begging you...do it for her."
The words tasted bitter in Sanaa's mouth and she lowered her head to hide the burning shame that came to her cheeks. She'd begged for the dragon's favor too much in the last few days, gone too far into his debt. Even if he could forgive her for hiding his child from him, how could he respect a woman who owed him so much?
Sanaa heard his chair scrape against the tile floor, then Ronin's heavy footsteps as he walked over to her. He knelt beside her and turned her body, settling in between her thighs.
"You're no good to us wounded, Sanaa."
No good to their daughter. No good to him. "I know, but this is the only version I've got right now. Don’t t
hink I didn’t notice you never answered my question."
“Which question?” The Dragon’s body was so close. His eyes so earnest. As if nothing in the world was more important than giving her what she needed.
“Why did you banish me?”
"I had my reasons. One day I may share them...but not today." Despite his cool tone, Sanaa saw a flash of pain in Ronin's eyes. He climbed to his feet, pausing to press a kiss to her forehead. "Dry your eyes and finish your breakfast. I'll be back in a few hours. Probably."
"Where are you going?"
"To have a word with your old men."
6
Ronin rode into the skinwalker village on Bandit's back for the second time in as many days and with half as much enthusiasm. At least the first time he hadn't known the shit storm that was waiting inside those walls.
"Damn that woman and her nostalgic heart." Even as the words left his mouth, he knew there was more to Sanaa’s insistence they involve the Bloodbones.
The old farts sat in the same configuration they had the day before, two pairs playing chess, the leader reading at the great table. Well, as great as a plywood monstrosity with thin metal legs could be. Kane sat in the corner of the room, staring intently at the Elders. He nodded to Ronin as their eyes met.
Ronin glanced at Kane’s outstretched hand for a moment before he shook it. “This isn’t a coincidence, is it?”
Kane shrugged. “I mean, if that would make you feel better we can pretend it is.”
Perfect. Another skinwalker to watch me make an ass of myself to make my mate happy.
He grunted as he reminded himself—for the third time in twelve hours—that Sanaa was not his mate.
“Did Sanaa call you?”
“Like she would let me get involved. I figured if you were coming at all, you wouldn't waste time. They must have figured the same." The skinwalker jerked his head toward the Elders.
Each of them looked up and noted Ronin’s presence then went back to puffing their fragrant pipes and playing their games. As if they couldn’t hear the conversation happening ten feet away from them.
Ronin knew only two of them by name. Elena, the female warrior Elder begged the same favor of him every year. Each summer, she came to pay tribute, and ask the dragon to search the area for tribes that might pose a threat. The Chief, Ramon, came to Ronin twice a year with gifts of jerky and spices. Payment for another six months of Ronin's guardianship.
A growl of warning rumbled in Ronin's chest. “Do you people take everything as a chance to stand on ceremony?”
Kane opened his mouth to respond, but one of the Elders, the one without the glasses, with a scowl that made him look like a bulldog, answered instead. “We have our ways, Dragon. Keeping to them helps us feel connected.”
The Seer, a squat fat woman with hair dyed coppery red, looked up from her game. “That one won’t understand. He doesn’t have any traditions of his own.”
Ramon looked up from his book, over the rim of his glasses. Ronin knew him, too. Now the man barely spared him a thought. “Why are you here, Dragon?"
Only because my woman won't let it go. "Sanaa and the child are my responsibility. Their lives, their happiness, all of it."
“And you think you’re up to the challenge?” Ramon asked.
Ronin grit his teeth. Two days ago, the skinwalkers wouldn’t have dared speak to him that way. “Unfortunately, it seems her happiness depends on her continued membership in your tribe."
The Chief closed his book. “I asked you a question, Dragon. Why should I have faith that you can take care of her? Of both of them?”
A challenge. Ronin braced his hands against the plywood table and leaned forward into Ramon’s space. “It’s not a matter of faith, Old Man. They’re my family. I will protect them. I’m only here because it’s important to Sanaa.”
Ramon watched him for a moment, his lips tight. He snorted and flipped his book back open. “You have courage, Dragon, I’ll give you that. It’s your heart that concerns me.”
“Excuse me?”
Kane groaned behind Ronin. “That’s formal speak for ‘We don’t think you’re serious about courtship.’”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“You’re at war with yourself, Dragon,” the Seer said. “How can a man who isn’t at peace with himself be trusted to guide a family?
“I don’t remember asking to have my fortune told,” Ronin spat.
Elena snorted. “It doesn’t take a mystic to see you’re all kinds of mixed up. You talk about Sanaa as if she’s your woman, but you barely know her.”
“I know enough.” Sanaa was the mother of his child. She needed his help. What else did he need to know?
“Then why did she send you here? She isn’t one of us anymore, the child never was. Yet here you are, a mighty dragon, fighting to keep his bile in check while he prostrates to a bunch of skinwalkers. Oh, don’t bother to protest,” Ramon waved a hand as Ronin opened his mouth to do just that. “I’m not interested in how you feel about it.”
“Then what the hell is it you want from me?”
“I want you to prove you know a damn thing about my niece. Tell me why she sent you here.”
Ronin had a sudden urge to shatter the cheap plywood beneath his fingers. The Old Man was right, something didn’t smell right. Sanaa was relying on him for firepower in the fight. She could have secured his help just as easily by telling him the truth upfront. Instead she hid it until the last possible moment. When it seemed like she might lose both sides’ support if she didn’t come clean. Why was it so important that both he and the Elders back her cause?
“She doesn’t think she’ll survive this fight.”
Ramon’s grim expression confirmed Ronin’s suspicions. “You want me to trust her safety to you? Why should I when she doesn’t?”
“Sanaa doesn’t understand how far I’ll go for her. She’ll learn.”
“Prove it to me. Atone. Give Sanaa back her status before it’s too late.”
If Ronin didn't know better, he could swear the skinwalker was enjoying his humiliation. "Just tell me what you want me to do."
The Scholar finally looked up from the game of chess he was losing and climbed to his feet. "We were discussing it before Kane interrupted us. We hadn't come to an agreement."
"Our tribe has rules about who can couple," the female warrior said. "Only members who have come of age."
Ronin raised an eyebrow. "I can assure you, I'm no boy."
The male warrior snorted. "You may be grown by human laws, but we aren't human, are we?"
Ronin glared at the warrior, letting the dragon fire come to his eyes. He could level the entire town with only the powyr and the wyrd, but that would destroy Sanaa. "Just tell me what I have to do to get you off my back."
"Bloodbones take their place in the community when they receive their imprint. Adults are free to marry, hold council, and build homes of their own. Though most don't take the last part literally until they marry."
That explained why Sanaa lived in a trailer instead of the squat adobe structures that dotted the small town. He would build one for her himself if she insisted on maintaining a home in the village.
"Except I'm not a skinwalker. I was born with my animal.”
"Which is exactly why we can't agree on how to go forward," Ramon said. “I want Sanaa and her child settled, we all do. But we have the community to consider. If we excuse your transgression, what happens when one of our young men makes a similar mistake?"
Ronin bore his teeth at Ramon. “My daughter is not a mistake."
"Do you want to be right, or do you want to protect Sanaa and your baby?" Elena asked.
In a perfect would, Ronin would have had both, but the Elders were not going to give him that much. Sanaa needed the Elders’ support to feel secure. Ronin needed to get it.
"This coming of age ceremony...what does it involve?"
The Elders looked amongst themselves. The Warrior and the S
eer didn't look convinced that they should share the information with Ronin, but the Chief looked to the Scholar and nodded.
"A youth approaches the Elders with one parent of good standing acting as their representative. If we believe they are ready, they begin their quest in the desert."
Ronin rolled his eyes. "You must be joking."
"You have objections?" Ramon asked.
"Several. To begin with, my parents are dead–"
"I can act as your representative," Kane, rising to his feet. "If the Elders agree."
All eyes turned to the Scholar, who shrugged and adjusted his glasses over his beady eyes. "A parent of Sanaa's would be more proper."
Ronin glared at the weasel of a man. "But seeing as they are unavailable?"
The Scholar stroked his gray-flecked beard. "I can't think of a reason it wouldn't be allowed, given the circumstances.”
Ramon clapped his hands together. "Then it's decided."
"Nothing's decided," Ronin said through gritted teeth. The Male Warrior and the Seer, at least, seemed to share his annoyance, though probably not for the same reasons. "I'm not leaving my woman and child undefended to go on a spirt walk."
"Spirit quest," Elena corrected. "And no one is suggesting that. Omar and I can take over guardianship of Sanaa and her daughter until your quest has been successfully completed."
The plan was foolish, unnecessarily sentimental, and a pointless delay when they could least afford one. Every instinct he had told him to turn his ass around, ride back to his compound in the mountain, and tell Sanaa in no uncertain terms that pacifying the Elders could wait until her safety was secured.
But hadn't he sworn twice in the last twenty-four hours to attend to her emotional needs as much as her physical? The breakfast discussion–which was absolutely a fight–hammered one fact about Sanaa into Ronin's brain. That woman could not face life without her community.
And he sure as hell wasn't about to face life without her.
"When do we do this?"
A smile tugged at the corner of Ramon's lips, and for a moment, Ronin wondered if he was secretly pleased the dragon was taking responsibility for their wayward Thunderbird.