by Juniper Hart
“So how did you two end up back together?” Yvette asked, her eyes brightening with curiosity.
Olive and Asher exchanged glances. What were they going to say, exactly? That they had reunited less than twenty-four hours ago?
“Well, we never stopped caring about one another, and communication between us never fully ceased,” Olive began. She was getting to the truth by telling a lie, but it was for Asher’s benefit. That way, her parents wouldn’t think he had abandoned her and his unborn child, even if she had been the one to leave. After just one sentence, though, Olive was stuck. In hindsight, they should have thought about this before. They had been so worn out and nervous, all they had done was begrudgingly get out of bed, go buy a few outfits, and come straight here.
Asher took the lead. “I was on a business trip near the coast. After the long day, I couldn’t seem to wind down. I started driving with nowhere in mind, following whatever my heart told me to do. At a certain point, I felt like I was headed for something but didn’t know what. I ended up in a town an hour away. The place only had three stoplights and two gas stations. It was the middle of the night, so the entire place was empty, except for a twenty-four-hour diner. I figured I might as well go in and get a bite to eat before heading back. Couldn’t have driven all that way for nothing.”
Olive was smiling brilliantly, her anxiety tamed for the time being. “That same night, I was staying in a crappy little motel with Esme, just stopping on our way back from the beach. I couldn’t sleep at all, just tossed and turned for hours. I decided to go for a walk and actually ended up at that same diner.”
“She was already sitting down, plates cleared from the table when I walked in. She called over to me, I came and sat down, and, well, the rest is history,” Asher concluded the story with the classic cop-out line.
Yvette didn’t seem to mind, one hand placed over her heart as the other reached for her husband. “Oh, is that not the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard, Donnie?”
“Sure. You’ve made me watch The Notebook at least five times,” Don joked, earning a playful hit from Yvette. He chuckled and then addressed the couple. “Well, I’m glad you two are back together. You seem to suit each other rather well.”
“We think so, too,” Olive shyly agreed, gripping Asher’s hand.
“I think it’s meant to be, I really do,” Yvette nodded. “The universe is pushing you two together! You never know, Asher, one day you could be our son-in-law.”
Asher didn’t have to glance in Olive’s direction to know that she was twenty different shades of red and her mouth was hanging open. He passively wondered if Olive had taken a liking to Esme, a bold and sarcastic character, because she vaguely reminded Olive of her mother. Yvette certainly was a pistol. “If that were to happen, I couldn’t be more honored.”
“What are you talking about? Taking my little girl’s hand in marriage is the greatest honor on Earth,” Don ribbed. Before Asher had a chance to smooth his comment over, Olive spoke.
“Don’t you think fathering my children would be an even greater honor?”
Oh, there it was. They were diving into the deep end. Asher was proud of her for working up the courage to say something about it.
“Oli, I don’t wanna think about that,” Don remarked with a disgusted grimace.
“Oh, hush, she’s an adult. I’ve been telling you for over a decade, she wasn’t going to be a child forever,” Yvette scolded him before turning back to Olive. “You would make a lovely mother, sweetheart. Maybe after grad school you can make us grandparents!” she giggled, wiggling her brow. Olive was squirming. No longer was she flushed; now she was drained of all color. “Honey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to faint!”
“I… I…”
Then she bolted from the couch, with Asher right on her heels. She rushed into the kitchen and doubled over the trashcan.
“Oh, babe,” Asher frowned, rubbing her back in slow, circular motions. Her nerves were getting the best of her. Once she was done, she turned and leaned into his chest. “Don’t cry,” Asher whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”
“What’s going on?” her parents asked in unison as they entered the kitchen. Asher didn’t want Olive getting any more upset than she already was. While he was holding her close, he ripped off the band-aid.
“Olive’s pregnant, and she’s almost seven months along. Before you lose your cool or berate her in any fashion, keep in mind what I just said. She’s pregnant and under enough stress as it is. So, if you could please handle your reactions in private, I would appreciate it. Otherwise, we will just leave now.” His tone was harsher than he had intended it to be, as well as louder and firmer. While Asher didn’t blame them for Olive being upset, he was still protective of her.
Don and Yvette were stunned, but followed his orders and retreated into the den. Asher rubbed Olive’s back and showered the top of her head in kisses, assuring her that the worst part was over. He guided her back to the living room and sat with her on the couch until she had calmed completely. Olive continued to lean into his side. She had taken off her cardigan after getting sick, and her hand now rested on her stomach.
It was a while later before Don and Yvette reappeared. Asher had anticipated flustered faces and an immediate interrogation. Instead, they just sat down and studied their daughter.
“You feelin’ okay, princess?” Don asked, to which Olive replied with a nod. “Good. Now, I just want both of you to know that while yes, we’re in shock, we’re very, very happy for you. How could we not be when we’re about to receive a little Olive clone?” He grinned. A smile appeared and disappeared from Olive’s lips. “If anything, we’re just upset you didn’t tell us sooner.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Olive meekly replied.
“Well, why didn’t you?” Yvette asked. The hurt in her voice was evident. At least they weren’t converting their hurt into anger, like most people seemed to do.
“I was scared,” she admitted.
“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Don soothed. “We’re not mad, just upset, and that too will pass. I have to say I’m a little curious. Why today, of all days, did you decide to come clean about this?”
“I’ve wanted to tell you guys for a while… but the longer I put it off, the more anxious I became, and the less I wanted to tell you. It’s now come to the point where I had to.” All eyes were on Olive then. “The doctor recommended I get information on my biological parents so that they know of any health conditions that might affect the baby and myself during late pregnancy.” That lie did come with ease, since she and Asher had rehearsed that portion.
“I see,” Don murmured. “Alright, tell ya what. You two spend the night, and first thing in the morning, Asher and I will go up to the attic and get the information we have.”
Asher wanted to protest, wanting to get the records now so they could keep on their search. Both Asher and Olive had their phones turned off, and it wouldn’t be long until someone came looking for them. However, it was a reasonable request, and he supposed that some time with her parents would do Olive some good. She would probably be an emotional wreck if they left so soon after slapping them with such startling news.
“That sounds like a fine plan.”
13
The evening went surprisingly well. Yvette’s shock had worn off faster than anyone’s, and she excitedly picked through her yarn collection to get started on a baby blanket as soon as they finished their dinner. With the women busy, Don had suggested that he and Asher head up to the attic to get those records, just to get it out of the way. Asher had to contain his excitement. During the search, Don had given Asher the classic girlfriend’s father talk: that if Asher ever hurt Olive, he would have a group of guys come after him, and that Olive and the baby were to be his top priority for the rest of his natural life. It all ended with a firm clasp on the shoulder and a chuckle as Don pulled a folder out of a cabinet drawer, right next to the entry of the attic.
Asher had spent the remainder of the evening impatiently waiting for Olive’s parents to retire for the night, guessing they would find it inappropriate for an estranged boyfriend to read copies of their daughter’s records. When they finally did, Olive and Asher followed them up and into Olive’s bedroom. It had been redone since the first time he had seen it, changed to suit an adult rather than keep the high school-era shine that had existed in there before. Much to Asher’s delight, they had kept her desk. It was understood that Olive did not want to read the file, having talked about it on the ride into town. The idea of reading about her biological parents made her uncomfortable, and she felt it was disrespectful to her parents to read about her life before they had adopted her.
Asher agreed that was for the best, not wanting her to find anything that could cause her stress. The longer he was around Olive and got used to the fact that she was pregnant, the more protective he became. He wanted her to avoid as much stress as she could. Olive lay down in the bed, falling asleep in record-breaking time. Asher scoured each page, looking for anything that was remotely out of the norm.
The most painful part was reading the reports from Olive’s childhood in foster care. She had opened up about it, but she hadn’t mentioned some of the things he read. Asher wondered if she had blocked them out. House after house she was sent to, Olive endured physical and verbal abuse, and she had been deemed severely malnourished when the state finally took her back into custody.
Asher glanced over his shoulder to the bed. Olive was sprawled out, one leg sticking out of the covers, her hair wild from sleep. That woman was so much stronger than she gave herself credit for.
It took hours to read through each of the papers. It wasn’t until after midnight that Asher found the page he had been looking for: a sheet with information about her biological parents that had been filled out at the hospital when her mother gave birth. It was incomplete, and a note scribbled at the top of the page said that the mother refused to give most of the information.
Mariella Edevane, seventeen years of age. Brown hair, blue eyes, only a partial social security number. George MacQuoid, twenty-five years of age. Asher couldn’t read further without pausing to cringe. While he understood Mariella was at the age of consent, there had always been something predatory about men who lusted after girls not even fully developed into women yet, even back in times where it had been widespread and considered “normal” to wed girls even younger than Mariella was.
Asher stared at the sheet, rereading it several times. The only thing of note were their last names. “Edevane” stood out to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint why. Moving the sheet to the side, Asher went on to the next page. There was a report from the doctor who had overseen Mariella’s care that had been submitted to the court.
Patient and spouse were brought in from a car crash, her labor becoming stress-induced. Upon waking, Edevane demanded to go home and screamed at hospital personnel. However, when informed that she was in labor prematurely, Edevane still insisted on going home, claiming she wanted an at-home birth. I explained that it was too late for that and she needed to give us consent to treat her. She reluctantly agreed but remained hostile toward staff. Once Baby Girl Edevane was taken to NICU, Mariella Edevane was left to rest. Just an hour later, when nurses went to check on her, both Edeveane and MacQuoid were gone.
Was her mother insane? Why had she been so angry to be in a hospital? Asher had no idea, but he found himself glad that Olive’s parents had abandoned her, despite how cruel that may have sounded. Asher couldn’t imagine what would have happened to her under their care.
Everything happens for a reason, he thought. In the instance of Olive, she had ended up in the care of Don and Yvette. Every little decision made in Olive’s life, whether in or out of her control, had led her to him, which had resulted in their son. The thought was still new and strange, but it still managed to warm his heart. The dragon-shifters had always been an open-minded people when it came to faith and superstition, but at that moment, Asher found himself believing in predetermined fate. This was supposed to happen for a reason.
In an hour, Asher finished reviewing the file in its entirety, and he sat with the two statements about her parents in front of him. “Edevane” continued to grate his nerves, knowing he had heard that name before but had been buried in centuries of memories. Despite Asher’s lack of a full night’s rest, he was absolutely wired. He was itching to get to the bottom of it. Once he finally gave up prodding his own mind, Asher knew there was only one other person he could turn to in confidence to help him reach a breakthrough: Sebastian.
Strategically pacing the floor, trying not to cause the old wooden floors to creak, Asher reached for his duffle bag and dug out his phone. His finger hovered over the power button. Was it safe to call his brother? Asher had always been wary of technology, especially considering his father’s insatiable appetite for information. He wouldn’t put it past him to have some sort of tap on his children’s phones. Considering Asher had been MIA, there was a good possibility that his calls would be monitored.
Avoiding the estate had been Olive’s one request, and Asher was going to uphold that. However, it didn’t mean he couldn’t go by himself. By no means would it be suspicious for him to be there, and nothing would give away that he had contacted Olive again. Asher’s main concern was Olive’s safety, and, admittedly, the fear that she would run away again. Debating the thought, he decided he would make the trip as quickly as possible and get back by sunrise. Olive was safe here.
Asher didn’t need any more convincing. Stopping briefly at the bed, he kissed the top of Olive’s head, lightly touching her stomach as he did so, and exited the room. It took him no time to move through the house stealthily. Entering the backyard, Asher gave a glance toward the windows of the house, making sure all curtains were drawn. Then he leaped into the air. His clothes ripped from his body and fell into the meticulously kept yard. He cursed to himself, noting that he would have to get them before Don or Yvette woke up.
In a horrific blur, Asher was in his dragon form, embracing the familiar relief that came with it. The night air did nothing to calm his racing mind, however. Olive, the baby, Edevane… It all played on a miserable loop. Guilt from leaving without saying anything to Olive also pricked at his conscience, but she had been sleeping peacefully, and he didn’t want her to worry. It would be fine, he would be in and out, going straight to Sebastian’s room, talking to him, and flying back.
Olive’s parents were only an hour and a half drive away from the family estate, roughly a forty-five-minute flight, typically. Asher had made it in thirty by flying even higher in the sky than usual. The air was a bit thinner, making him lightheaded by the end of the journey, but it had been worth it. The quicker he could get back to Olive, the better.
The house was illuminated by soft orange lights on the decks and balconies. The sight had always brought Asher peace. The sand-colored stone with cream-colored trims and shutters having that faint hue of orange made the grand estate appear warm and welcoming.
He slowly glided down onto the roof of the west wing, his talons hardly making a sound as they touched the shingles. His body collapsed into itself, drawing back his bones and scales to be left a pale and naked man standing on a rooftop.
If Olive could see me now, Asher thought humorously. Just as he had done many times before, he moved to the very edge before jumping down onto his own balcony. His fingertips traced the crevices of the stone exterior next to the door, finding his hidden key before unlocking the door and putting the key back in its place.
Asher was only in his room long enough to pull on a white linen button-down and a pair of black slacks before moving into the hallway. He knew Sebastian was bound to be home at that point. They would have been called back after Asher had gone missing; at least, he hoped so. If Sebastian wasn’t there, then it would have been a wasted trip.
Slipping into the hallway, Asher headed downstairs toward his brother’s room.
His eyes scanned the darkened hallways, hoping to stay out of sight as much as possible. That dream was short-lived.
As he hurried down the hallway, a gruff voice called, “Asher. Get in here.”
Asher mumbled a stream of profanities under his breath. It was his father, calling from his study. He didn’t have a choice in the matter—he had to go talk with Carlyle. If he dared to ignore his father’s beckoning… To say the least, he wouldn’t make it back to Olive by morning. Reluctantly turning on his heel, Asher turned into his father’s office. The door was open only by a crack.
A fire was burning inside, illuminating the room and casting long, ominous shadows from all the antique furniture. Carlyle was slumped in an armchair near the fireplace, his eyes fixated on the flames with a glass in his hand. How much had he drunk?
“Sit,” his father commanded, his voice low but harsh. Like an obedient child, Asher perched on the end of a chair adjacent to his father. Carlyle’s lazy, drunken gaze was on him only for a moment before rolling to the small table next to his own chair. Sitting up straighter, his father reached for the glass canister containing an amber liquid, pouring himself another stiff drink. “Why on Earth would you leave the search party, hm? Do you simply enjoy pissing me off?”
“That wasn’t my intention,” Asher murmured, his own eyes falling to the flames. Anywhere was better to look at than Carlyle Tallant’s face when he was angry.
“Then what precisely was your intention?” Carlyle had a false sweetness to his voice, as if he were genuinely intrigued.
Asher’s hands nervously rubbed together. “I didn’t really have one… I hadn’t been sleeping well, and I guess blew a fuse. Went riding around, searching on my own, before finally passing out and sleeping in the back of the rental.”