by Olivia Ash
Before I can speak, Drew nudges my shoulder and nods to the floor.
A vent.
I kneel, peering through. From this vantage near the ground, I can see Harper sitting in a chair against the far wall. She's frowning, rubbing her temples with her eyes closed. A man walks past the vent, his legs casting shadows across my face, and he sighs.
Jace.
“Is he coming or not?” Jace barks.
“Just be patient,” Harper chides.
“Patient?” Jace snaps back. “You're the ones that ushered me into this emergency meeting when I was in the middle of—” He cuts himself off with a groan, and I suspect he doesn’t even know what he and I do out in the woods anymore.
Tease each other, mostly.
And bicker.
“Why isn't he here yet?” the dojo master demands.
“He's coming,” Harper promises.
“I don't even see why he has to be here,” Jace snaps, his voice tense and irritated. “I don't even know why we have a priest, Harper.”
She chuckles. “It's ceremonial, Jace. You may not care about ceremony, but most dragons do.”
Drew leans his back against the wall beside me, his eyes shifting out of focus as he listens.
The creak of a door opening catches my attention, though I can't see the door from this angle. Moments later, footsteps thud across the floor, and Harper turns to look as someone enters.
“So glad you could join us,” Jace says sarcastically, his voice dripping with annoyance.
“Apologies,” says a man I don't recognize. “Your hallways are a little confusing. I got lost.”
“Now that we're all here and accounted for,” Harper says, “there's an important matter we need to discuss.”
“Don't do this, Harper,” Jace says quietly, his tone almost pleading.
She sighs, eyes closing as her shoulders droop. “I have to, Jace.”
He groans, and I can imagine him rubbing his jawline like he often does when he’s frustrated.
Harper leans back in her chair. “We've been putting this off, but we can't anymore. This is important.”
“I'm afraid so,” the priest interjects. “The master of the dojo can have no conflicts of interest. The mate-bond you have with the dragon vessel puts you and everything here at risk.”
“I know the law!” Jace snaps.
Harper stands, her attention focused a little ways off to my left, and I figure that's where Jace must be standing. “You have to choose, Jace. Rory, or your dojo.”
For a moment, no one speaks. No one moves. It almost seems as if no one even breathes.
I know I don’t—because I can’t believe what I just heard.
My heart twists in agony at the impossible choice Harper just demanded of him. An ache thuds through my chest. My palms begin to sweat, and for a moment, my dragon writhes in panic.
“I can’t deny the mate-bond,” Jace says, breaking the silence. “You’re not giving me a choice, Harper. You’re asking me to step down.”
“I’m not,” Harper insists with a quick shake of her head. “That’s the real reason you and I aren’t having this conversation solo.”
“If I may interject?” The priest’s voice is apprehensive and a little shaky, which I assume means he’s more than a little afraid of Jace. “There are ways to break the bond. It leaves a void in both parties, but it does work. As long as the two of you haven't mated—”
Jace scoffs contemptuously, cutting the man off, and I can practically feel his jealousy seeping through the wall.
I know he hates it—the fact that I've slept with Drew, Tucker, and Levi, but not with him. That must burn him clear to the bone, but he knows why it hasn't happened.
The only reason it hasn’t happened.
He and I want each other. Badly. But just one night of passion means he and I are bound for life.
For me and Jace, it's not just sex. It's eternity.
Before I can give in to him, I have to know without a doubt that we're not going to destroy each other in the end. To give each other that much power over the other—it could be catastrophic.
“I need more time,” Jace says, ignoring the priest’s offer.
“I can't give it to you,” Harper admits quietly.
“Even just one month, Harper,” Jace says. “Please.”
“With everyone hunting her, I can't let you wait,” Harper says. “You have a week, and that's the best I can do.”
“A week?” Jace asks incredulously. “Harper—”
“I'm sorry,” she interrupts, walking toward him. There's a rustle of clothing, and I wonder if she set her hand on his arm to comfort him.
I wish I could do the same.
Jace groans. “This is an impossible decision, Harper.”
“I’m making you choose between the two things you love most,” she says, her tone gentle and understanding. “I know.”
“I'll think about it,” Jace begrudgingly concedes.
“You already know what you want to do,” Harper says. “You just don't want to admit it to yourself, to me, or to her.”
There's a tense and eerie silence, and I wonder what the expression on his face must be. I have a feeling it's probably one of disgust, or disappointment, or even an incredulous disbelief that she would dare say such a thing.
Or maybe those are just the expressions on my face. At this point, I'm not entirely sure.
“If that's all?” Jace asks tensely, and I know him well enough by now that he probably nodded toward the door for emphasis.
“That's all,” Harper replies softly, almost wounded.
Without another word, she walks past the vent, and I hear the creak of a door opening. More footsteps follow, and it sounds like the priest has also left the room, leaving only Jace behind. He sighs deeply, hesitating for a moment before he too walks past the vent and into the hallway.
When the room is empty, I still don't move. My shoulders are tense, and I can feel pain radiating down my spine. I can barely breathe, and my mind is astonishingly blank.
It’s almost as though I can't let myself feel for fear of what might come up if I seriously debate the choice Jace is going to have to make.
Silently, Drew sets a strong hand on the back of my neck. It's huge and warm—and, I confess, soothing. With him near, I can breathe a little bit better, and his fiery touch slowly melts my frozen muscles.
It lets me think.
My chest aches. It's a hollow kind of hurt, the sort of emptiness that comes with losing something you'll never get back. Even though Jace has been an ass half the time I've known him, my dragon chose him for a reason.
Jace Goodwin soothes my magic in ways no one else can. He sparks a life deep within me that makes me feel full. Content. Happy. He pushes me to my limits, breaks them, and builds me into something more. He has a connection to my power and my dragon that not even I have.
After all this time in his dojo, he’s finally coming around. The two of us, we’re—well, I don't know. I'm not sure what we are, not really. But it's changing. It's growing. It's becoming something. Becoming better.
The question is, will it happen in time?
I don't know what's best for us. I don't know what the correct choice is.
Jace was right about one thing—this is an impossible decision. Either way, he loses something dear to him, and I wonder where I could possibly rank compared to the dojo that has given him purpose and drive for so much of his life.
His role as the general of the Fairfax Army has been a part of his identity. It has been a lifelong goal for him, one he accomplished at an almost impossibly young age. He will be immortalized in Fairfax history—he’s a living legend to them, all because of what he’s done while he’s ruled here.
Finding a mate was never even on his top ten list. He’s never wanted that life—not even once. How could he, when he had everything else he could ever dream of?
I sit back on my heels, staring at the dark floor as I lose myse
lf in thought. As impossible as this decision is, I have to confess that I selfishly know which choice I want him to make.
I just doubt he will make it.
Chapter Six
Harper and I need to talk.
I don't bother to mask my movements as I stalk through the hallways on my way to her room.
I may have snuck around just a little bit to get information on where she was staying. I probably could have just asked, but I don't want her to know I'm coming. I don't want to give her time to come up with answers or prepare for the questions I have to ask her.
I want honesty. I want the truth.
When I reach the door to Harper's room, I impulsively kneel to pick the lock. My hands hesitate over the doorknob, and I pause.
For a moment, I simply sit there, debating what I want to do.
On the plus side, picking the lock and kicking open the door is one hell of a dramatic entrance, and in the past, the right entrance alone has won me valuable intel without me ever having to break a single nose. It would show Harper that I mean business, and the old me would have done it in a heartbeat.
It’s a power move that lets others know exactly what I’m capable of—and exactly why they shouldn’t lie to me.
But Harper and I have been through enough at this point that I should at least grant her the decency to knock.
Despite my training screaming for me to do otherwise, I stand and rap my knuckles against the wood.
For a brief moment, nothing happens. There's a rustle of clothing inside, and a few footsteps heading toward the door. The doorknob rattles, and seconds later, the door opens to a rather surprised Boss of the Fairfax family—the one person in this world to hold some amount of control and sway over Jace’s life.
As our eyes meet, her eyebrows shoot up, and she briefly scans my face. “Rory. What a surprise!”
“Do you have a second?” I ask.
She nods and steps aside, gesturing for me to come in.
How surreal. Me, a former Spectre, being invited into a dragon Boss’s room.
I indulge her, stepping into the parlor and giving the suite a quick scan. No cameras on the elegant, ornate walls and very little in the way of effects across the massive marble fireplace and mantle. A cup of coffee steams on an end table beside an overstuffed chair, and a book about political theory lays open on the armrest.
I narrow my eyes skeptically.
Interesting reading material, Harper.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I say, more out of courtesy than anything else. My shoulders are tense with everything I'm about to ask her, and part of me wishes I was somewhere else.
I really hate this feelings stuff, but I know in my bones that I need to do this. I need to clear the air.
Knocking on a dragon Boss’s door, only to be invited in. I never once thought I would see the day when this was my life.
But my life has changed, and this is my world now—as uncomfortable as it sometimes can be.
“To what do I owe the honor?” Harper asks as she shuts the door behind me.
“Which choice do you want Jace to make?” I ask, not bothering with pretense now that we’re alone and no one can overhear us. I train my gaze on her and stand a little taller, more for emphasis than anything else.
I want her to know I'm serious. That this is a question she must absolutely answer before I leave this room.
Harper lets out a slow breath, her eyes drifting to the floor as her shoulders droop slightly. “Jace told you.”
“No,” I say simply. “He didn't.”
At that, Harper laughs. Her eyes dart toward me as her smile lingers. Clearly impressed I found this out, she crosses her arms as she studies my face.
Without answering, she begins to circle me slowly, taking her time with each step as she inquisitively tilts her head. “I've always wondered what training you had,” Harper admits, the smirk still on her face. “The way you move. The things you know. You're not just a normal girl. You never were, were you?”
The deceptively powerful thunderbird pauses and lets the silence settle in the room, clearly expecting me to answer. I figure at this point, she assumes she's gained my trust. She must figure I'll just jump into a conversation about this and not question the change in topic.
I don't answer.
The silence stretches on to the point where it's clear this is a tactic we're both using against each other.
Many people are afraid of silence. They ache to fill it even if they share things that aren't in their best interest to share. It’s a technique salespeople use to get their prey talking—in the quiet, most people will do anything at all to keep the conversation rolling. It’s like wringing a towel, only answers pour out instead of water.
But Harper and I both know the tricks, and they don't work on us anymore.
The Fairfax Boss absently rubs the back of her head and walks toward a mini bar in the corner. She lifts one of the crystal decanters and pours brown liquid into an equally ornate glass. When the cup is half full, she raises it toward me, gesturing for me to take it.
I shake my head.
Harper shrugs, setting down the decanter and sitting on the plush sofa nearby as she takes a sip.
“I don't know where to start, Rory,” she admits, finally breaking the silence.
Good.
I won.
“How about you begin with an explanation?” I say tensely, not bothering to mask the accusation dripping from every word. “How about you tell me how you could possibly force Jace to make a choice like that?”
With the glass inches from her lips, Harper pauses, staring at me with a tortured expression. “It's out of my control. I don't want to do this anymore than he wants to make the choice, but facts are facts. The master of the dojo can have only one love.”
With that, Harper takes a sip of her whiskey, all the while watching me with a knowing look on her face.
Love.
The word makes me uncomfortable, and I impulsively shake out my shoulders to loosen up the tension building in my back. I briefly look away from her, not quite able to stand the intensity of her gaze.
Like she knows what neither Jace nor I will admit.
“You asked what choice I want him to make,” Harper says. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
“Before I tell you, answer me this. Why does it matter?” Harper counters. There’s a genuine curiosity in her voice. It’s not accusation, not resentment. There isn’t a hint of defensiveness or irritation—nothing but quiet and calm interest.
“He listens to you,” I admit. “You're his Boss, so he has to. If you give him an order, he has to obey it.”
“Have I ever given him an order?” she asks, though it’s clearly rhetorical.
I tilt my head in annoyance at the bait she just dangled in front of me, wishing she would just get to the damn point already.
“This is not a choice I get to make,” Harper continues, leaving the previous question hanging in the air. “This isn't something I can choose for him, Rory, not even if I wanted to.”
“I suppose,” I admit. “But he will still listen to what you have to say.”
“Maybe,” she says with a smirk, taking another sip of her whiskey. “Most of the time, he just talks over me.”
I chuckle, but the laughter quickly dies in my throat. I set my hands on my hips, staring off down the hallway of her suite toward the rooms farther down. “Just tell me, Harper,” I say quietly. “I need to know.”
Harper pauses. I can tell she's struggling with this, probably debating whether or not she even wants to confess it at all. If there's any reason or point to all this. After all, this isn't a decision either of us gets to make.
I hate that—not having control. To have something so powerfully affect me, and yet to not have any say.
Maybe that's why I'm restless.
Harper sets her whiskey on the coffee table and tucks her legs beneath her. “As his
Boss, I want my general. I know how he operates. I trust him. It's going to be a nearly impossible task to find a replacement for him, and even then, I’ll have to spend another decade getting to know and trust the person who comes next. Ideally, he would have a second in command we could simply promote, but, well…”
Right. Guy Durand.
I grimace in disgust at the memory of a traitor I would rather just forget.
Harper shrugs. “No second has officially been named for the dojo since Guy was banished, as that’s a long and tedious process. We do have a top contender, so there’s that at least. Russell—I believe you remember him?”
I nod. He was a chauffeur who got us out of the neutral zone back when we had to meet with all the Bosses. He's good at what he does, but I don't know him well enough to predict whether or not he would be a good general.
The fact is I hate her answer. It's the one I was expecting, but not the one I wanted.
My shoulders are so tense they ache. They hurt so badly that they almost burn with the strain of all these unknowns. I can feel the pain radiating up my neck into my head, where the dull throb of a headache is beginning to brew.
This must be what denial feels like.
“However,” Harper continues, her voice softening, “as his cousin, I feel differently. As his family and his friend, I want him to be happy.” She pauses, looking briefly at the rug beneath the coffee table. “I want him to get his head out of his ass and marry you already.”
I sputter and cough involuntarily. I can't help it because I wasn't expecting that answer at all. “Let's take baby steps there, Harper.”
“A baby is good, too.” Harper laughs. “And no, absolutely not—there are no small steps with thunderbirds. That's not how our kind operate, Rory. That's not how mate-bonds work. The only two things holding him back from throwing you over his shoulder and making you his—the only things stopping him from fulfilling this mate-bond you two share—are his jealousy and his need to control everything around him.”
“Thunderbirds don’t share.” I recite Jace’s words, my jaw tensing in irritation.
“He’s full of shit,” Harper says curtly, rolling her eyes.