Dragon Secrets (Dragon Breeze Book 1)

by Rinelle Grey

  It had to be his. There was no other explanation.

  This was what she had been hiding from him. What his uncle had been hinting at when he’d said he’d promised not to tell.

  His hands clenched into fists.

  Had it occurred to neither of them that he deserved to know?

  Chapter 4

  Brad could guess that Anarian was his, Lyrian could see it in the way his eyes widened, then hardened.

  Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she put her hand up as though she could soothe it that way.

  It didn’t help that his proximity was causing her stomach to do flip flops over and over again. Why did he stand so close? She could feel the warmth from his skin, reminding her of how nice it felt to be right up against him. Her whole body ached with need, just from his presence.

  This was not good.

  He was never going to agree to leave now, or to let her leave. And the longer he hung around, the more tempting she’d find him.

  The trouble was, she was weak now. Being alone with a young baby left her with far fewer options for defending herself. Meaning she was more likely than ever to let him back in.

  Why hadn’t old Henry warned her he was coming? He knew she didn’t want him to know about Anarian.

  The old man never had agreed with her. He’d thought his nephew deserved to know about his child.

  He couldn’t possibly understand that Lyrian didn’t need the human distracting her from her goal, no matter how many times she’d told him. Human’s just didn’t see it the same.

  Or maybe he did. Maybe he’d been focused on what his family needed as much as she’d been focused on hers.

  But Lyrian wouldn’t let herself be distracted from her goal again. She’d done that once, and look where it had gotten her.

  She didn’t have time to worry about what the human family needed. Her own clan’s need was far more urgent. Her pregnancy had already kept her from finding her brothers for too long.

  She’d rushed to her clan’s lair as soon as Brad had left, but it had been too late. She’d known it wouldn’t have helped to get there any earlier, there had been no signs of occupation in the lair at all. It had been empty for a long time, possibly even centuries.

  Even so, the guilt had consumed her. Let her believe that she was the only one who’d survived. If she hadn’t found out, only hours later, about her pregnancy, she wasn’t sure how she would have pulled herself out of it.

  She’d let that distract her. Let it keep her from searching for her brothers for too long.

  It was only once Anarian had been born that she’d realised she couldn’t give up. That she couldn’t let her daughter grow up without a clan.

  But by the time she’d reached Taurian’s Mesmer chamber, a few days before Henry had died, it had been too late.

  Her brother’s sleeping place had been completely wiped away by the human’s huge, growling machines. This time, the damage hadn’t been centuries old, but only a few days. If she’d been a little earlier, she might have been able to save him.

  Her heart ached every time she thought of her youngest brother. But she couldn’t give up. Couldn’t let herself get distracted by grief or nostalgia. She had no idea if her brother had still been there when the damage had happened. There was a possibility that some human had found him, like old Henry had found her.

  She needed to get to Verrian’s chamber and check, before the humans found him too.

  She didn’t need Brad here, demanding explanations and distracting her.

  But not needing him wasn’t going to make him go away.

  He stared at her, his eyes hard and his fists clenched. He was angry at her.

  His daughter’s howls behind them only intensified the guilt that Lyrian was feeling.

  He had a right to be angry.

  But she couldn’t deal with his problems right now. She needed to stay strong, as she had managed to do when she’d told him to go. She’d let herself get carried away, sleeping with him twice before she’d come to her senses. She couldn’t let herself fall for him.

  Even if his angry brown eyes did have a little gold in them.

  “Is it mine?” he asked, his voice hard and tight.

  Lyrian felt the urge to deny it. Was there any chance he’d believe her?

  If he’d just go away, then she could get back to searching for her brothers and sisters.

  Except that wasn’t so easy now Henry was dead. She could hardly take Anarian with her on the hunt. She hadn’t encountered any opposition at Taurian’s chamber, but it had been destroyed.

  It was still too risky to take a baby into what could be a combat situation. She couldn’t fight with a baby in her arms, one blast could kill the infant.

  But what else could Lyrian do? She had no one else to trust.

  The crying eased. Anarian had probably found her thumb and was sucking on it. Hopefully she’d go back to sleep. Lyrian didn’t think letting Brad see her right now was a good idea.

  A little thought popped into Lyrian’s head, that Brad just might look after Anarian while she searched for her brothers, but she pushed it away.

  As soon as he found out, he’d be asking her to move to America with him. Apparently it hadn’t even occurred to him that maybe he could move here. And she suspected it wouldn’t now either.

  Henry had warned her that Brad was more inflexible than his twin brother. That he had a plan for his life, and he stuck to it.

  Lyrian was pretty sure a baby had no part in that plan.

  This baby would throw all his plans off. He’d probably be happier if he could believe that Anarian wasn’t his. He’d happily go away and forget they’d ever existed. Maybe he’d even let her stay here in the house.

  That was the sensible thing to tell him. What he wanted to hear even.

  Somehow though, that wasn’t what came out of her mouth.

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  It was hard to be alone. Sometimes the loneliness was so strong it hit her almost like a cyclone, twisting her into a mess of agony and despair. In those times, she’d pulled out the memories of her time with Brad, and let herself go over them. They’d helped her feel less alone.

  She’d grown up part of a family who she knew without a doubt loved her, and would do anything for her. She’d had no experience being alone.

  With a baby to care for, and such a big task ahead of her, of course finding someone she might be able to lean on was tempting. Letting Brad in, when she’d cared about him so much, would have been easy.

  But he didn’t care for her the way she did for him. If he did, he would never have asked her to move. He would have at least considered that he be the one to move.

  Maybe she was being too hard on him. After all, it wasn’t like she’d told him the truth. He’d told her about his job back in America as a healer. He’d said people needed him.

  She hadn’t countered that with anything.

  Lyrian hesitated, her resolve wavering. Henry was gone. Taurian was gone. Her clan was gone. Were any of her kind still alive?

  Was it better to cling to this human than to leave her daughter completely alone?

  What if something happened to her? Anarian had no one else.

  Did she have any other choice?

  No, they couldn’t all be gone. There had to be other dragons still out there. She refused to believe she was the only one left.

  Brad took the last remaining steps two at a time, and Lyrian stepped back as he came level with her. His face twisted and his hands balled into fists. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  How could she even begin to explain to him?

  The truth was, she couldn’t. “I’m sorry,” Lyrian said softly. It wasn’t enough, but it was all she had.

  “Did my uncle know?” he demanded. Then he answered his own question. “He must have.”

  He stared into her eyes, his searching gaze making her stomach flip flop.

  “Don’t blame Henry,” she said, fighting to
keep her voice calm. “He wanted to tell you, but I made him promise not to.”

  Obviously he hadn’t considered that promise binding after he was dead. He’d sent Brad here, leaving her to deal with the explanations and mess.

  Well, it was a mess she’d created.

  “Why?” he asked, his expression changing to bewildered, all the anger melting away. “Did I do something to you? Upset you somehow? I thought…” his voice broke off, then he took a deep breath and continued, “I thought we had something there. Right up until you suddenly went cold. What happened?”

  His face looked so earnest, like one of Luna’s puppies. Of course, the little balls of fur only looked like that when they wanted food, she reminded herself.

  She tried to harden her heart, to lock out the feelings that his nearness evoked.

  But the smell of him filled her nostrils, and the heat emanating from his skin warmed her own skin. She wanted to lean into him, to rest her head on his strong chest.

  But she couldn’t.

  “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I have to find my brothers. I can’t be distracted by you again. If I hadn’t let myself be last time, then none of this would have happened.”

  If she hadn’t been pregnant, she would have gone searching for Taurian earlier. She would have found him before his Mesmer chamber had been destroyed.

  If she hadn’t been pregnant, she might have given up after finding her clan’s lair empty. It had pulled her out of the despair she’d started to sink into.

  Without her, Lyrian would be close to giving up by now.

  And she couldn’t guarantee that Taurian would have been there, even if she had arrived earlier.

  Her baby daughter was still the thing that drove her, every day, to try to find the rest of her family. If she hadn’t had her to keep going for, she might have given up by now.

  But for all that her baby might have a human father, she wasn’t human. Dragon genes were always dominant. Her baby would grow up a dragon. And Lyrian didn’t want her to be the only one of her kind.

  “You’ve been hiding my child from me all this time, and you’re worried about me distracting you?” he demanded, his voice rough.

  For a moment, Lyrian wavered. She’d never felt right about not telling him. If he were a dragon, it never would have occurred to her to hide her pregnancy.

  Then again, if he were a dragon, he would have understood.

  She drew herself up and glared at him. “And what would you have done if I had told you?” she demanded. “Told me I had to come to America with you? Well, I don’t want to. I’m quite happy here. This is my home.”

  “You didn’t tell me about my baby because you thought I’d ask you to come to America with me?” Brad demanded, his brow furrowed.

  “Yes.”

  He stared at her, his face a picture of confusion for a few moments. “Then say that,” he said earnestly. “Don’t just shut me out like you did last time. And don’t hide my child from me, please.”

  Lyrian stared at him, feeling the walls she’d built up crumbling down, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

  She wanted to tell him. To tell him all of it. To admit who she really was, and what she needed.

  If she did, surely he would understand.

  Surely he would realise he had to be the one to stay here with her?

  But she was no more sure of that than she had been when she’d told him to leave.

  While he hadn’t known about Anarian, she’d told herself it was better that way. That it would stop her daughter feeling this pull between humans and dragons the way she had. That it would make it easier on everyone.

  Now that he knew, she knew there was no way she could keep his daughter from him.

  He’d have to have some presence in his daughter’s life. She had no right to keep him from that.

  She just needed to keep her own needs and goals from being swallowed up by his.

  Chapter 5

  Brad could see the slight change in Lyrian’s expression, when she gave in. She exhaled slightly, and a look of defeat came over her face.

  For a moment, he felt sad about that. He didn’t want her to feel bad about this.

  But now that he knew he had a child, there was no way he was going to walk away.

  He had no idea what he was going to do, since it seemed coming to America with him was a big part of her problem, but walking away wasn’t in any part of it.

  He’d figure something out. Even if he had no idea what.

  Right now, his focus was a little distracted.

  “Can I see… is it a girl or a boy? What’s their name?” His questions tumbled over each other as badly as the thoughts in his head did.

  Usually his thoughts were perfectly in control. He was known for his cool head in an emergency. His patients relied on that.

  Lucky they couldn’t see him now.

  Lyrian hesitated.

  Brad held his breath. The urge to demand answers swelled up in him, and he swallowed it down. He’d seen how well that worked last time. When he’d pushed her about coming home with him, she’d closed up and refused to let him in. He didn’t want that happening again.

  Even if it was hard to deal with the curiosity consuming him.

  Did the child look like her, or him?

  Did he have a son or a daughter?

  He watched Lyrian’s internal struggle play across her face, holding his breath.

  It was the strangest feeling, reminding him a little of Christmas morning as a child.

  Back then he hadn’t been in control of everything. He’d trusted that his parents were, and they’d never failed him.

  “Her name is Anarian,” Lyrian said finally. “And yes, you can see her. But be quiet. I’m hoping she went back to sleep.”

  Brad just nodded, afraid that if he said anything, she’d hear his voice shake.

  He followed her into the house, blinking to help his eyes adjust to the cool darkness inside. Lyrian led him into her bedroom, to where the tiny infant, wearing nothing other than a diaper, lay on a sheepskin rug on a mattress on the floor. She was, indeed, sleeping, her tiny thumb in her mouth.

  His baby daughter’s slight fuzz of hair had a definite blue tint. Just like her mother’s. Brad blinked in surprise.

  But how was that possible? Babies weren’t born with blue hair, no matter how much their mother’s hair had been dyed.

  He opened his mouth to say something, to ask what was going on, but he saw Lyrian’s worried eyes on him, and he forced himself to shut it again.

  Don’t ask too many questions, Henry had said. Lyrian was skittish.

  Brad had seen that first hand. Instead of discussing her concerns with him, she’d run at the slightest hint of difficulty.

  If he wanted to make this work, to have a part in his daughter’s life, he needed to reassure her. He needed to persuade her to talk to him instead of running. Convince her she wouldn’t regret sharing this with him.

  He needed to let her be in control. For a while at least.

  She’d let him into his baby’s room. He didn’t want to blow it now.

  “She’s beautiful,” he said instead, his voice choking a little.

  And she was. The blue hair gave her character and the same translucent quality to her skin as her mother had made her seem a little fragile. She didn’t look like any other baby he’d ever seen.

  Brad couldn’t help like feeling he’d stepped into the middle of some fantasy world.

  His uncle’s other words came back to him.

  She’s not of this world.

  Had his uncle known more secrets than he’d let on?

  Just what was Lyrian’s story?

  A strong curiosity consumed him. Brad wanted to ask her a thousand questions. To demand the answers.

  But he knew, without being told, that that wasn’t going to work. Lyrian reminded him of a deer in the woods. He had to go slowly, to avoid startling her.

  If he could get her to trust him,
then surely she’d tell him her secrets?

  Lyrian headed back to the doorway, motioning for him to follow her.

  Brad took one last look at the sleeping baby, then followed her out, tiptoeing as quietly as he could.

  Once Lyrian had closed the door behind them, she looked lost.

  Brad took her hand, and lead her out into the kitchen.

  Neither of them said anything, sitting down at the kitchen table and staring at each other. Brad didn’t break the silence. Lyrian looked like she might just fly away if he breathed too loudly. Let her be the one to speak first.

  It took a while. Lyrian stared at the table, tracing her finger across the many scars it held.

  Then she looked up, her eyes dark and haunted. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  Perfect opening line. She admitted that he was the one wronged. That gave him the advantage.

  He didn’t use it.

  Instead he said, “What can I do to help? Obviously you can stay here as long as you want. Forever even. The house is yours. Do you need money? A new car? Baby clothes?”

  The heat could easily explain Anarian’s lack of clothes, but it didn’t explain the lack of a crib, toys, or any of the other things he knew babies needed.

  Lyrian shook her head immediately. “We’re fine. We have everything we need.” She hesitated then, her eyes on him, evaluating him.

  There was something she wanted. Maybe even something she needed.

  Brad held his breath, hoping she’d trust him enough to ask.

  “If… if you could… look after her for a few hours. I… need to go and see my brothers.”

  Her brothers again.

  She’d said something earlier about him distracting her from finding them, but now she was talking about visiting them as if she knew exactly where they were.

  Brad wasn’t convinced they weren’t a figment of her imagination.

  If they really did exist, he wasn’t sure he wanted to meet them. Perhaps her comments that they’d disapprove of him hadn’t been a joke after all.

  What if she was going to get them to help her throw him out?

  He made himself take a deep breath. He was letting his imagination run away with him. For all he knew, they’d take his side, and tell her a child deserved to know its father.