by Donna Grant
Because it has been a while since I’ve been in a relationship, I felt as if I were trying to walk on a frozen lake where the ice was breaking up all around me. I couldn’t find my way, and I had no idea which direction to turn.
I realized that the only one who could help me was him. It was up to me to ask him what exactly we were to each other … together. Were we just having a little fling? Or was it more?
I like to think I can face any problem head-on. That I don’t shy away from embarrassing or uneasy situations. But I had a hard time getting the words out. It was because I really like this guy.
I mean REALLY like him.
As in, I think he just might be … The One.
There. I said it.
My heart is racing just typing the words. I have written and deleted them a hundred times because, in the back of my mind, I wonder if I’ve doomed this budding relationship and myself by writing what’s in my head.
Yet I’m going to leave the words.
I’ve always laid it all out for everyone reading this blog. Why should this time be any different?
Each of you has seen my struggles with dating, of being alone, of being rejected, and me learning how to navigate the online dating landscape. It’s been far from easy, but I hope the mistakes I’ve made have helped some of you take a different path.
I’ve actually learned from you. Yes, you! The private messages and the posts on the blog have taught me a thing or two, as well. I love the exchange of information. I love how we—men and women—have banded together to help each other out.
Let me give you an example. A couple of months ago, a woman replied to my post with an issue about a guy who was hot and cold. She didn’t know what to do. Fortunately, one of the male readers jumped in and gave her some sound advice, which enabled her to end it with the indecisive guy. Many of you read the dozen or so exchanges by these two below my post.
What few know is that they took their conversation off the internet and discovered that they lived in the same city. They decided to meet up for coffee to discuss their various dating disasters and found they got along well. So well, in fact, that they went on their first date a week later.
I’m happy to report that both have contacted me independently. They have been inseparable since. I sincerely wish them the best. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll get a wedding out of it!
CHAPTER FORTY
For the third night, V stared up at the stars from the Dragonwood. Each day that Usaeil didn’t go to Con and no Fae showed up at Dreagan, the more apprehensive he became.
He’d been so sure of what Usaeil planned. It had seemed so simple in its complexity—and exactly something Usaeil would do. Why then had no action been taken?
No matter how many times the Kings urged Con to call an end to his attempt and return to Dreagan, he remained in Venice. He’d chosen the city, hoping that being away from Scotland would tempt Usaeil.
“Something isna right,” Darius said as he came up beside V.
“I’ve said that for days now.”
Darius looked around them. “We all agree with you.”
“Con really needs to return.”
“Ulrik is trying to talk him into that now. I’m glad that Ulrik went to Venice, too, because if anyone can convince Con of something, it’s the King of Silvers.”
V lowered his gaze and looked at Darius. “What is Con waiting for? Obviously, Usaeil knew this was a trap. That means she realized we figured out her trap, as well.”
Darius hesitated a moment. “Con thinks if he waits a little longer, he can make her think that it isna a trap, and she’ll come.”
“She willna. She’s going another route.”
“Neither Rhys nor Ulrik can get Rhi to answer them. They’ve even contacted Phelan for help.”
V knew it wasn’t a good sign when they had to turn to the Warrior for help. Luckily, Phelan was like a brother to Rhi, so she should answer him. “How long has it been since Phelan called to her?”
“Eight hours.”
“She’s no’ going to go to him then,” V stated. “She knows we would go to Phelan.”
Darius shifted and leaned his back against a tree. “With neither Usaeil’s or Rhi’s whereabouts known, our plans are for shite.”
“Maybe,” V said, nodding slowly as he gazed into the night. “Or maybe no’.”
“Meaning?”
“From what both Con and Rhi told us, Usaeil is furious with Con for no’ going along with her plans for them to be together.”
Darius shrugged. “So?”
V shot him a flat look. “I might have been asleep for several millennia, but even I know a woman like Usaeil will retaliate when scorned. And instead of going after Con himself—”
“She’ll come at what he cares about most,” Darius said as he pushed away from the tree.
V nodded in agreement. “Dreagan, and us.”
“She’ll never win against us. It would be sheer folly.”
“Usaeil knows she can no’ kill us, but she can hurt us and Con in other ways. She either wants Con angry, or she wants him to turn to her for help.”
Darius ran a hand down his face and sighed loudly. “Shite. She could go either way.”
“I’ve been thinking of that dream or whatever you want to call it that Dorian had when he was in New York. He said he saw the Kings and mates dead, scattered all around Dreagan. And that it was Usaeil who had done it, though she told him her name was Rhi.”
“Usaeil can no’ kill us,” Darius replied.
V raised a brow. “But you’re no’ thinking of just what the Others can do. I felt it. I lived it. I broke through their magic. It’s strong, Darius. Verra strong.”
“Fuck,” Darius mumbled and turned away.
V understood Darius’s anger. The Others didn’t outright attack. They set traps and scenarios where they somehow knew exactly when and where the Kings would be. On top of that, the Others’ magic was unknown.
For all the Kings knew, they had finally met their magical match. It was a distinct possibility that the Others could kill them.
Dmitri, Rhys, Kiril, and Con were the only other Kings besides V and Roman to feel the strength of the Others. The rest of the Kings had no idea what awaited them.
Because V knew the Others were far from done with them.
Both V and Darius turned their heads at the sound of someone approaching. Roman walked from the trees, an uneasy look on his face.
“I’ve got a bad feeling,” he told them.
Darius grunted. “We all do.”
“It’s worse for Dorian.”
V spun to the manor. “Does he think this is like his dream?”
Roman shrugged and shook his head. “Dorian is adamant that the mates leave Dreagan.”
“That’s the last thing that needs to happen,” Darius stated.
“None of us saw what Dorian dreamed, what he believes to be real,” Roman replied.
V looked between the two of them. “We shouldna discount Dorian’s vision. It was magic used by the Others when Dorian touched that black dagger, a weapon that was given to the mortal by none other than Usaeil.”
“Con needs to get back now,” Darius said worriedly. “I’m telling Ulrik.”
Though V felt better that Ulrik would tell Con their worries and that it might get Con and the other Kings back to Dreagan, his worry still wouldn’t lessen.
As one, the three of them headed back to the manor. Those on patrol were so high up in the sky that no one would be able to spot them—not even the Fae. V had already taken his shift, but he knew he’d be back up there later.
V headed straight to find Claire. She was in the kitchen with Denae and Grace, washing dishes. She turned her head to him without him even saying her name. They hadn’t had any time alone since the library, but each time he saw Claire, she gave him a bright smile.
Now was no exception. V wanted to go to her, hold her, but he knew if he did, he wouldn’t want to let go. And there was
work to be done.
She nodded to him and mouthed, “I’m good.”
He fisted his hands, needing to feel her warmth, her soft curves. V winked at her before turning on his heel and making his way into the mountain.
When he reached the cavern, he spotted Ulrik. His excitement that his brethren were back dimmed when he saw Ulrik pacing. V glanced at the map on the wall. Henry talked to Ryder via an earpiece, while Ryder worked up in his computer room. Together, the mortal and Ryder were tracking any mention of Rhi or Usaeil. Rhi’s pins were bright pink, while Usaeil’s were green.
What stuck out the most to V was that not a single pin was actually on the map. Anywhere. It was as if both Fae had disappeared from existence.
“Where’s Con?” V asked, looking around for the King of Kings.
Ulrik looked up, his face a mask of anger and unease. He halted in his pacing. “He used that damn watch Death gave him. I saw him. He was on his way here.”
Henry whirled around at the news. “Was?”
V frowned, hoping he hadn’t heard Ulrik correctly. “Are you telling me that Con isna here?”
Ulrik pivoted and slammed his fist into the wall of rock. The punch sent his hand deep into the stone as more of the slab crumbled and fell to the floor.
“Bloody hell,” Henry murmured.
V pointed at Henry. “Tell Ryder. Every King needs to search for Con right now.”
Ulrik pulled his hand free of the wall and dropped his chin to his chest. “We willna find him. I’m no’ sure how, but Usaeil has Con.”
“Con wanted to trap her, but Usaeil set a trap for him,” Henry said.
V shook his head. “Con would have expected that. There’s no way he would be taken so easily.”
Henry wrinkled his nose. “Unless Usaeil was patient enough to wait until everyone returned to Dreagan.”
A muscle twitched in Ulrik’s jaw. “I made three trips with Kings. Con was there each time I returned. He reached for his pocket watch to come back to Dreagan the same time I brought the last Kings.”
“He wouldna go somewhere without telling you or any of us,” V said.
Ulrik tugged up the sleeve of his shirt to touch the silver cuff he wore. V grabbed his arm before he could teleport.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
A muscle ticked in Ulrik’s jaw. “Balladyn.”
“He hates Con. Do you really believe he’ll help us find him?”
Ulrik jerked his arm free. “I’m not going to just sit around waiting and speculating.”
“I think you’re going to come up with a plan. It’s what you do best. You know Con, Rhi, and Usaeil.”
Henry folded his arms over his chest. “And you, V, know the Others.”
Ulrik glanced at Henry and nodded. “I need everyone who has had any contact with the magic of the Others down here. I might know Rhi, but there are others who know her better. Get Phelan here. And Rhys.”
“Everyone else?” V asked.
Ulrik looked up, his gold eyes steady, his expression even. “Everyone else needs to be on patrol.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The joyful, cheery atmosphere of the house was gone. Snuffed out as easily and clearly as a candle flame. Claire noticed it bit by bit as the days passed into a week, and then a week and a half.
No matter where the Kings looked, no matter how skilled Ryder was with electronics and accessing data, there had been no sign of Con anywhere.
The same with Rhi and Usaeil.
Claire and Sophie kept their hours at the clinic, but they were never alone. Darius, V, and at least one more King was with them at all times.
For his part, V tried to keep his worries in check. But when Claire woke last night to find him staring out the window, she had gone to him and wrapped her arms around him. It had taken some convincing, but she finally talked him into sharing with her all that he felt.
He wasn’t the only one. The other Kings were all tightly wound. Every last one of them.
Ulrik had essentially stepped into Con’s role, but he wasn’t alone. Kellan stood with him. There were many Kings that Claire hadn’t met personally, but she was surprised to learn that the Kings had a Keeper of History.
It was Kellan’s job to record all that happened with each Dragon King. He didn’t remember it all. Just saw what occurred and wrote it down, removing it from his memory.
Even with his ability, Kellan didn’t have specifics to where Con was. However, he had seen that the moment Con grabbed the pocket watch, Usaeil appeared behind him. In the next instant, both were gone.
Claire hated not being in the know. She got parts of information from Sophie and the other mates, and then a little more with V. Yet she felt left out.
She didn’t blame anyone. She wasn’t really a part of Dreagan. She wasn’t a mate, and it wasn’t as if V had professed his love for her or she for him. The only reason she was there was that she shared V’s bed.
Not that Claire was upset by it. She was content to be a part of Dreagan in any way she could. Her problem was that she wanted to do more. But how could she? It wasn’t as if she could stand against the Fae or even a Druid.
She walked down the stairs and heard voices. When her gaze landed on Eilish, Esther, Shara, and Darcy talking low as if planning something, she was reminded again that she had nothing to offer anyone at the estate.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?”
Claire’s head whipped around at the sound of an American accent. She found Jane watching the foursome as they walked away.
“Yeah,” Claire replied.
Jane tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear as her amber eyes slid to Claire. “I sometimes lie in Banan’s arms and dream about having magic so I can fight alongside him. Then I remember that even a Fae and Druid can’t last long beside a Dragon King.”
“I feel so helpless.”
“Each of us who doesn’t have magic feels that way. It’s our burden to bear. Our mates,” she paused and smiled, “or the King we’re with, carry the weight of keeping their world and all of us at Dreagan safe.”
Claire walked past Jane to the double glass doors that led to the manicured area at the side of the house. “Because the Kings’ enemies know they can’t kill them. But they can hurt them through us.”
“Exactly. It’s been done time and again. The mates with magic feel the responsibility just like the Kings, so they do what they can.”
“While we sit and wait. Powerless and vulnerable.”
Jane came to stand beside her. She cut her eyes to Claire. “Powerless maybe. Vulnerable? Never.”
Claire shifted to give her a troubled look. “And how do you propose to fight against a Fae or anyone with magic?”
“With my wits and whatever else I have at my disposal. I’m not alone. And neither are you. We have each other. The Kings who stayed behind might be preoccupied, but we stand together. Always.”
Claire grinned at Jane. “Thanks for the reminder. It’s easy to wallow in self-doubt.”
“I have to give myself that talk often, so don’t feel bad. I saw you watching Eilish and the others and realized that you might very well feel the worries each of us gets from time to time. You’ve just kept a smile on your face, which has fooled most of us.”
“I don’t want V to worry.”
“He does. And he will. Just as you will. Be there for him. Even if he doesn’t talk.”
Jane gave Claire another smile before she walked off. Claire returned her gaze to the window. V was out there somewhere. No matter how many times she tried, she had yet to see him in his true form.
Frantic voices came from upstairs. Claire turned and looked, waiting to see who it was.
“How in the world did we run out? Between all of us?” a Scottish brogue asked.
Claire recognized the voice as Iona’s.
Then came a British accent. “As if I have the answer.”
A moment later, both Iona and Devon appeared. They spotted Clai
re at the same time and rushed to her when they reached the bottom.
“Claire,” Devon said. “We’re asking everyone if they have any pads, tampons, and the like.”
Iona rolled her eyes. “Can you believe with all of us, we’re still running low?”
“Sophie and I can grab some when we come back from the clinic tomorrow,” Claire offered.
Devon wrinkled her nose. “I heard Anson say that might not happen.”
“Oh.” Once again, Claire felt left out. She shrugged. “I think I have a few with me.”
Iona smiled gratefully. “That’s great. When do you think you’ll need them?”
“I should start on the fifteenth. I’m very regular,” Claire told the women.
Devon frowned and shared a glance with Iona. “Today is the eighteenth.”
Claire’s mind went blank.
“What’s going on?” Eilish asked as she came toward them.
Iona said, “We’re running out of feminine products.”
The Druid grinned and clicked the silver finger rings on her hand together. Boxes of products appeared behind Devon and Iona. The two quickly grabbed up armfuls and went to dispense them.
It took Claire a minute to realize that Eilish was still there. Claire looked at the Irish beauty with her dark hair and green-gold eyes.
“You look troubled,” Eilish commented.
Claire tried to shrug, but suddenly, the room was spinning, and her knees grew weak. Eilish was by her side immediately, holding her up.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. Let’s sit you down.”
Claire didn’t know where the chair had come from, and she didn’t care. She knew she was close to hyperventilating. “Wh-what day is it?”
“The eighteenth.”
From the date of her first period, Claire had been as regular as clockwork. She always started on the fifteenth. Not once had she even been a day late.
“Claire? Look at me,” Eilish called as she squatted before her. “Tell me what’s going on. I can help.”
“I think … I think I need a pregnancy test,” she finally managed to get out.
Eilish grasped her hand. In the next breath, she and the Druid stood in V’s bedroom.