by Kayla Wolf
And then there was a knocking at her door. She bit her tongue on the urge to call ‘come in,’ remembering that it wasn’t just her father and her in the house any more. So she just stared at the door, knowing someone was on the other side of it, hoping it was Charles and not Caleb… then her heart sunk as she heard the coyote shifter’s voice murmur her name. She stayed still, not daring to move or breathe, not wanting him to know she was even there—before remembering the light was on, probably shining out under the door. That was what had alerted him to her presence, to her still being awake. Well. Hopefully, he’d get the hint if she stayed quiet.
He knocked again, and she heard him repeat her name. Then, bracing herself, she reached over and turned the light off. There was a long pause—then she heard his footsteps, retreating down the hall to the spare bedroom he’d been installed in. Quinn breathed a deep, slightly shaky sigh of relief, torn between exasperation and fear. What had he been trying to do? Why visit her in the middle of the night like that? Unless he thought—a blush rose to her cheeks. If he thought she was that kind of girl, he had another thing coming. Still, worry gnawed at her insides. Did he think they had some kind of connection? Was he going to pursue her like this—or would this interaction be the end of it? Her bedroom door wasn’t locked—if he’d really wanted to press the issue, he could have just barged in on her. She’d have been furious, of course, and he’d have risked being kicked out… Quinn ground her teeth, turning over in bed, the book forgotten. How frustrating. Had she given him any sign at all that she was interested? Definitely not.
It had been a long, rather restless night. She’d fallen asleep eventually, but it wasn’t a good sleep, and she was awake again before dawn, disturbed by dreams of yellow-eyed shadows pursuing her. So she’d gotten up, bright and early before the sun had even peeked over the horizon. There were always chores to be done, after all—the chickens to be fed, the garden to be checked on, the never-ending task that was weeding.
But to her vexation, by the time she was up and dressed, so was Caleb. He was wearing a set of clothes her father had lent him, insisting that the ones he’d been wearing were in need of a wash, and he looked bright and cheerful.
”Good morning,” he said softly, those yellow eyes fixed on her. She was acutely aware they were alone—her father usually slept a little past dawn—and she resisted the urge to grind her teeth, irritated by the way he was looking at her. But before she could reply, he spoke again. “Sorry if I disturbed you last night.”
”I didn’t hear you,” she said levelly. “If you’ll excuse me—work to do—”
”Let me help,” he said quickly, following her through the doors onto the patio of the house. “As thanks for your hospitality.” She heaved a sigh—but she couldn’t exactly turn down a spare pair of hands, could she?
”Fine,” she said, trying to gather herself as she grabbed a couple of buckets and handed one to the coyote. It wasn’t Caleb’s fault that she’d been in such a bad mood for so long—it was her father’s. There was no sense punishing the coyote for a bunch of stuff that wasn’t his fault. “I’m going to the lake to get some water for the orchard. Reckon you can handle that?”
”Sure,” he said with an easy-going smile. “Whatever you need.”
As they walked, she explained that they’d been meaning to put an easier irrigation system in for years. A semi-automated system that would take water from the lake and spread it around the garden without her or her father having to do it by hand. As it was, they relied on buckets—not exactly the most efficient or glamorous way of doing things. Her father seemed to like it, though. He felt it kept him more connected to the plants, doing the work by hand.
”I can respect that,” Caleb said. “My family are traditionalists, too. We keep the land the way it’s always been kept.” Something strange in his voice, there. She glanced sideways at him, curious despite herself about his story. “Less water, for a start.”
She laughed a little uncomfortably at that. Her father hadn’t explained the source of their little lake to the coyote, either, though she could tell he was fiercely curious about it. But before she could say anything, she felt something catch at her foot, and she stumbled. The lace of her boot was untied.
”The shore’s just through the trees there,” she said, gesturing to the stand of trees they’d planted around the lake as a windbreak. “I’ll catch you up in a second.”
She tied her laces firmly, taking the opportunity to settle her nerves a little. Her distrust of Caleb seemed a little silly in the light of day. He was just a nice guy who wanted to help, that was all—with a bit of natural curiosity about the strange place he’d found himself in. Who could blame him? Who could blame him, too, for being a little interested in her—if he even was? It wasn’t a crime to find someone attractive, she thought, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks at the thought. Strange—she’d been out here with nobody but her father for so long that she’d almost forgotten it was possible for people to look at her and see someone… attractive.
There were voices through the trees. That was strange, Quinn thought, rising to her feet and following in Caleb’s footsteps, calling his name as she went. Had her father beaten them here somehow? It wasn’t at all like him to get up so early. But to her surprise, as she stepped out towards the lake, it wasn’t her father who was standing there. It was a stranger. Another stranger.
A tall man, a few inches taller again than Caleb, with long blonde hair pulled back behind his head. A handsome man, she couldn’t help but notice as he turned his face towards her—a well-defined jaw, and a pair of brilliant green eyes that fell on her and seemed to freeze there as though something about her had arrested him completely. She stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out why he looked so strangely familiar.
”Hi,” she said finally when the silence had stretched too long. The strange man was still gazing at her, those bright green eyes unreadable. “What’re you doing here?”
”I—” The stranger cleared his throat. Caleb was still standing between them, and she could see even from the back of his head how tense he was, how ready to fight this newcomer. Quinn supposed she should have been grateful for that—after all, this stranger could have been anyone—but for some reason, she just couldn’t bring herself to see him as a threat. It was something about the look on his face, the simplicity of his body language. “My name’s David. I’m here from—“
”He’s a dragon,” Caleb almost snarled. “He flew here. Landed without permission.”
”I’m sorry about that,” David said quickly, taking a few steps towards her as though in supplication. Caleb moved to intercept, and she made an irritated sound in her throat, stepping around him.
“I can look after myself, Caleb, thanks,” she said, trying to keep her voice as level as possible. “Why did you say you’re here?”
”I—“ The green-eyed man hesitated, looking from her to Caleb. “I was sent. By an Oracle to the east. They said you were in danger. That you’d need me.”
”Don’t be stupid,” Caleb scoffed—and Quinn narrowed her eyes.
”Caleb, you’re a guest here. Don’t presume to speak for me. David, was it?” The man nodded, looking at her with a little bit of hope in those green eyes. God, he was gorgeous, she reflected, the thought surprising even her. “You’ll need to speak to my father about all of this.”
She led the men back through the trees towards the house, drawing herself up as much as she could to strike an imposing figure. Was this some kind of cosmic punishment for her quiet complaints about loneliness, she wondered? Yesterday she’d been sick to death of being stuck alone with her father—now here she was with not just one, but two completely unfamiliar visitors. Male visitors, a tiny, treacherous part of her mind couldn’t help but point out. Handsome, young, rather eligible male visitors who were here alone, without mates in tow or any indication that they were spoken for… she shut that line of thought down as firmly as she could.
Th
e green-eyed stranger was walking behind her, a safe distance back, very polite—but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, pressing into the back of her neck. She could feel Caleb staring, too, but his energy was more focused on David—there was something aggressive about it, something a little frightening, and she shifted her head to exclude him from her peripheral vision. She hoped, very much, that there wasn’t some kind of competitive urge coming out in the coyote. The idea of him feeling possessive over her made her stomach turn. He had no claim on her at all—and if he thought he did, well, he’d have to be put straight in a heartbeat.
For some reason, though, the green-eyed stranger’s close scrutiny of her didn’t seem to engender the same resentful feelings. She found herself checking her posture, standing up a little straighter as if to show him the best possible view of her… then shook herself mentally.
”David, was it?” she said, wanting to break the tense silence they’d found themselves mired in. “My name’s Quinn.”
”Quinn,” he repeated, almost reverently. She found herself quite liking the sound of her name in that low, resonant voice he had. “Good to meet you. And sorry—to drop in on you, like this. I know it’s strange.”
”It’s pretty strange,” she agreed with a grin. Somehow, him pointing out the strangeness of it made it feel better. “But not unprecedented. Caleb here turned up at the gates yesterday himself. Got separated from his family,” she added when it became clear that the coyote wasn’t interested in sharing anything about himself with the newcomer.
“Is that so?” David asked, and she didn’t dare turn around to see what kind of glance was being exchanged between the two. She wondered idly if they’d have fought if she hadn’t come upon them on the shore of the little lake. She wondered who would have won. Caleb seemed more volatile, more ready to pick a fight… but something about David suggested that he was the kind of guy who ended fights, rather than starting them. “That’s quite a coincidence.”
Caleb didn’t respond. She wondered if he was going to remain silent for the rest of his stay with them. That would be quite a feat.
When they returned to the homestead, Charles was standing on the porch, his eyes fixed on the orchard—but he quickly turned his attention to the newest guest, surprise on his face.
”Our guests are multiplying!” was all he’d say, charging forward to inspect David. The newcomer seemed a little taken aback by Charles’s good-natured interrogation—there was a tension in him that intrigued Quinn. When they shook hands, Charles peered up into David’s face for a few seconds longer than felt strictly necessary—but they broke away soon enough and Quinn was left wondering if she’d imagined it.
Charles ushered all four of them inside, clearly thrilled to pieces to have the company. Quinn watched him bustle about in the kitchen getting breakfast ready for them all—he’d been to see the chickens already, she could tell by the basket of eggs that was sitting on the kitchen counter, and it wasn’t long before the smell of frying eggs had filled the little room. Caleb still hadn’t spoken—his yellow eyes were fixed on David, shifting only occasionally to scrutinize Quinn as well. What was his problem, she wondered, trying to avoid looking at him.
”David’s a dragon too,” the coyote finally said, breaking his long silence.
”Excellent!” Charles said immediately, not looking up from the eggs he was flipping. Quinn squinted at her father, wondering whether he honestly hadn’t noticed the feeling between their two guests. Was he just being polite, trying to overcome it by sheer force of friendliness? Or had it been so long since he’d spent time around anyone but his daughter that he honestly wasn’t detecting the tension between David and Caleb? The latter just seemed ridiculous... but then again, so did the prospect of staying here forever when there was a chance of reclaiming their homeland, and Charles was certainly set on that particular plan of action. Quinn tried to calm the flare of anger in her chest. There’d be plenty of time to deal with that later.
”Where did you say you were from again, David?” she asked, trying to be polite. He gestured vaguely north-west.
”Up in the mountains with my family, originally, though I lived somewhere else for a long time. And you, Caleb?” he added, glancing over to the coyote, who stared back at him with that impenetrable yellow-eyed stare.
”I’m from around here. My family and I have no fixed home anymore.”
Quinn tilted her head to the side. That wasn’t an element of the story Caleb had mentioned before—had something happened to their home, she wondered? Or was she just projecting based on her own experiences? At any rate, the subject was abruptly changed by the appearance of her father, holding four steaming hot plates of scrambled eggs and freshly-baked bread, toasted and slathered with lashings of butter. Even Quinn, who hadn’t been thinking much about food since Caleb’s mysterious arrival the day before, felt her stomach growling enthusiastically at the sight of the food. She hid a grin at the way David tore into his food, visibly holding himself back from eating even faster.
”You must be hungry,” Charles laughed, setting about his own meal with only a little bit more delicacy. Caleb ate slowly, his yellow eyes still fixed on David. It was beginning to get on her nerves a little, and she cleared her throat, determined to change the subject.
”David said he was sent by some kind of—Oracle, was that right?”
”Mmf,” David attempted, hastily chewing and swallowing his mouthful of food. “Yeah, that’s right. An oracle to the east—I met with her after noticing something strange in the stars.”
Quinn took a sharp breath. David’s green eyes settled on her, curious, and she feigned a cough, masking her surprise. Hadn’t she seen something strange in the stars, herself? Hadn’t she felt that odd pull in her chest, that bizarre feeling that something was coming to her from the night sky?
”The Oracle said I was needed here,” he explained, reaching into the leather satchel he’d been wearing over his shoulder and pulling out something small and silver. “She showed me this strange map… and she gave me this. It led me across the country, maybe two days’ journey.” He opened his hand, and Quinn leaned forward, intrigued despite herself. He was sitting on the same couch as her, and as she moved closer to see what he was holding, she could feel the warmth of his body. Unexpectedly, she felt her skin tingle. What did that mean?
It was a compass, the thing sitting in his hand—made out of silver or something like it, it looked reassuringly solid and weighty in his hand. The surface was marked with the cardinal directions, north, south, east, and west, but there was something odd about the needle. Usually, she knew, the needle on a compass would point true north—but this one didn’t seem to be pointing that way. It was pointing through her, towards the window, and she frowned over her shoulder, trying to figure out what it could be pointing at. Was that the way the lake lay? It was, more or less. Was whatever mission he’d been sent on to do with the magic artefact, the stone that had created the lake—and by extension, their beautiful garden? Was their livelihood threatened, out here?
”I’ve never heard of an Oracle,” Caleb said flatly, his eyes dark.
”Neither had I,” David said smoothly, with the practiced air of someone who was used to diffusing tensions. Quinn looked at him closely, impressed by how quickly he’d moved there. “But once I met her… well, it’s hard to explain, but she seemed like the real deal. Anyway, I guess I’m here now. I’m not sure what it was she thinks I was meant to help protect you all from, but—here I am, I guess.” He shrugged, a rather attractive smile spreading across his face. “Just in time for breakfast, too.”
”Well, you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you like,” Charles declared happily over his own plate of eggs. Quinn glanced up, surprised by the offer. She’d been expecting her father to have a few more questions about the dragon who’d turned up unannounced and been discovered sitting on the shore of their sacred lake—especially with how suspicious and resentful Caleb seemed to be of th
e guy. “Perhaps this Oracle was telling the truth about us needing your protection, perhaps not… at any rate, any excuse to make new friends is alright by me.”
That didn’t seem to sit well with Caleb—but what could he do? After all, it wasn’t his house. She watched him subside into a restless quiet, his eyes flicking between his food and David as he ate. She had to admit—he wasn’t entirely wrong to be suspicious. David seemed like a sincere, genuine kind of guy—but at the same time, it felt a little like there were some parts of his story he wasn’t sharing. Something in the way he looked at her—something guarded in his eyes, as though he was resisting the urge to say a lot more than he’d already said. And he’d put the compass away so hastily once he’d caught her looking at it. Was it possible he was here with ulterior motives? And wasn’t that the feeling she’d gotten from Caleb, too?
Quinn glanced between the two visitors, frowning a little to herself. To think that a day ago, the biggest complication in her life was convincing her father to reclaim their family home. Now she had all of this to contend with.
Still—a part of her was secretly thrilled by the trouble. It wasn’t every day that handsome green-eyed dragons fell out of the sky and onto her doorstep, after all.
Chapter 7 – David
After breakfast, Caleb and Charles disappeared off into the garden, Charles nattering on about some kind of crossover strain of fruit tree he’d been experimenting with for the better part of a decade. That was the good thing about a dragon’s long life span—there was plenty of time for hobbies like that. William had often told David about an old friend of his who’d been single-handedly responsible for breeding a hypoallergenic strain of cat, starting in the 15th century when a human associate had been unable to tolerate the presence of her beloved pet. The human was long dead before the work was finished, of course, but that was the nature of humans. Their lives were so brief. David watched Caleb thoughtfully as the coyote readied himself to follow Charles into the garden. How long-lived were coyotes, he wondered? If they were anything like their cousins, the wolves, they had lifespans comparable to humans. The idea that Caleb might be as young as twenty-five was strange to him, somehow. He had such a strong sense of… of maturity, of groundedness. A sense of purpose, he supposed. He wished the guy didn’t clearly hate him so much.