Page 7 of Bound to the Dragon
Launching myself with my hind paws, I was airborne with just a few beats of my wings. Soaring through the skies for the first time in twenty-six very long years. My dragon instincts ruled me for long minutes as I soared and spun, and then I caught the scent of deer in the woods behind the farmhouse. They did not expect a threat from above when I silently dove upon the herd. With my claws full of fresh food, I spent several even longer minutes devouring what I could, replenishing my reserves and finally fully healing my body.
Then it was time for business, and I winged my way to the spot it was all about, the secret that Zachary and I had been tasked withprotecting. I inhaled deeply when I landed in the small clearing, filtering through the data rapidly and hissing when I discovered the scents of a vampire and a werewolf. The townspeople knew not to come here, so who were these trespassers? They did not smell the same as the ones Zachary and I had defeated twenty-six years ago.
I leaped for the sky to wing toward the town for further inspection. In the dark, with many clouds obscuring the stars and the moon, I knew nobody would see me, and I kept my flight low enough so as not to trip any radars. But I made a mental note to ask my Rosy about the air protocols nowadays. I had been out of the loop her entire life; it was possible technology had advanced even more.
The town was shockingly the same as I remembered, just more dusty and empty than I remembered. There was no sign of the luscious flowers and plants that had made the place quaint and idyllic. Half the shops were closed and boarded up, and the town hall’s once-white exterior was now a grimy brown. When I inhaled deeply and searched for familiar scents, I felt a pang of grief for each person I could not locate.
Then Grandma Lizzie stepped onto the back porch of her small cottage and raised her nose into the sky. As a werewolf, she’d run this town as the mayor and the leader of the small pack that resided here for a long time. Though Zachary and I had been here even longer and at first we’d had to adapt hard to a pack of werewolves settling so close to the secrets we protected.
She raised a hand over her eyes, squinting at the clouds above her like she sensed I was there. I wasn’t ready to land and shift, my dragon still riding me hard to remain the conqueror ofthe skies. But I lowered my altitude for a pass over her home, close enough that her porch light could catch on my golden scales. Close enough that I could make out the intensely relieved expression that spread over her face. Then she waved wildly with her arms, beaming at me, and eagerly jumping up and down.
I was feeling much better when I beat my wings to climb for the return flight to the farmhouse and my mate. Only small niggles of worry tickling the back of my brain. Who was that vampire? And was the werewolf I smelled one of Lizzie’s? I needed to get Rosy ready for her sacred duty quickly; we couldn’t afford to be caught unprepared.
First, I had to take care of some other tasks.
Chapter 9
Rosemary
I woke slowly, sunlight filtering in through the large picture window and brushing across my face. I wiggled my nose when pleasant scents teased my senses. Plants, petrichor, rich earth, and was that coffee? I bolted upright. Oh shit, the stranger.
My bedroom looked undisturbed. As the cleanest room of the house, next to the en suite bathroom, there was no dust on the floor I could check for prints. Still, I was pretty sure nobody had entered while I slept. I’d left several boxes and luggage in a haphazard obstacle course between the bed and the door, and nothing had been shifted or moved.
I rose and quickly washed myself with the fresh but cold water. Once I was clean and dressed, my curls tamed with my favorite hair products and a scarf, I was ready to discover if there really was a sexy stranger brewing coffee downstairs. I held my breath as I crossed the hallway, scared to discover that I’d dreamed it. I wanted to find out more about Chardum, and I wanted to discover what he knew of my father. More than anything, I wanted him to be real.
At the top of the stairs, I paused to stare at the transformation below. There was still a piece of string across the stairs, with a bell dangling from it, seemingly completely undisturbed. But light bathed the entryway, coming in from the window above the door and from both doorways flanking the hallway. Someone had uncovered and washed the windows in the kitchen and the living room.
When I untied the string, the bell jingled happily, and it drew Chardum from the kitchen, his head popping around the corner. “Good morning, my love,” he said, his golden eyes gazing at me with something very close to adoration, heat simmering in their depths when they skirted along my curves.
He was no longer completely naked, which was a bit of a letdown, but he was here, and he was very real. I found myself smiling back at him as I took in his new outfit, although from the looks of it, it wasn’tthatnew. More like vintage. Jeans that looked worn but fit him well, topped with some kind of corduroy shirt that looked dated in style but was still shockingly good on him. He’d braided his long black hair in a single long rope that dangled over one shoulder, and his feet were encased in a pair of well-worn work boots.
“Morning, Chardum,” I said. “Where did you get the clothes?” I bundled the string in one hand and then rose on tip-toe to hang the little bell back in place on the wall. There had been a ton of boxes of things from my father packed together in a back room down here. Had he snooped through those?
“Turns out,” he responded with a shrug, “That Zachary packed my things but didn’t throw them out. They were all right there.” He pointed down the hallway next to the stairs, which led to several more rooms on the ground floor, including the room where all those boxes had been.
“Those were yours?” I stared at the shirt that clung lovingly to his wide shoulders and bulging biceps, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, a sight I always found extremely sexy. That didn’t seem likely. If they were his, those boxes couldn’t havebeen packed up by my father. Nobody had been inside this place for as long as I lived.
He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head as he appraised me, “Yeah, but I’ll explain after you’ve had breakfast, yes?” He ducked back into the kitchen without another word and, drawn by the enticing scent of fresh coffee, I followed him. The floor here had been swept and mopped, but the ancient linoleum was still in an abysmal state that simple cleaning couldn’t fix. The table, however, was polished to a sheen and so clean I could see my own reflection in the dark mahogany surface.
With light streaming in through the now clean windows, without the boards covering them up, this place didn’t look nearly so bad. There was still no coffee maker or working fridge, but Zachary had lit the stove and apparently managed to brew amazing-smelling beans with some kind of tall metal pot with a thin spout. If I didn’t know any better, that was one of those types of coffee makers that only used freshly ground beans. Had that been in one of the cabinets here? That sure as hell beat the instant stuff I’d been stirring into my cup so far.
There were plates set out on the table too, with a fresh loaf of bread and a bowl of rich, fresh butter. My stomach rumbled at the sight, so I didn’t question any of it while I sat down to eat and sip from perfect coffee with rich cream. Only after I’d drank the last drop and eaten the last crumb did I ask, “Where did you get all this?”
Chardum had been sitting next to me, calmly eating his own slice and sipping from his own cup. He hadn’t eaten in a frenzy like last night, devouring enough food to feed a dozen people in tenminutes. It was kind of comfy and cozy to share breakfast with him.
He quirked an eyebrow when I asked the question, his mouth tilting into a smirk. “Lizzie dropped it off this morning.” My eyebrows shot up, Lizzie? Did he mean Mayor Peck? Who had asked me to call her Grandma Liz? How did he know her? Or had they only met this morning, and I’d missed it all? Oh boy, what would that woman think when she realized I was already shacking up with some guy?
“Lizzie and I go way back,” Chardum said casually while he rose and started clearing our plates and washing them up in the sink. It was obvious from how he moved around the room that he was very at home in this place, and when he pulled open a cabinet and drew out a box of soap, I realized he’d known exactly where it would be. That box was ancient, but the soap still worked, so I didn’t comment while I watched him use water heated on the stove for the dishes.
“And you and my dad?” I asked. I was starting to think that there was more to this than I could understand without facing some strange truths. Like the age of the handsome stranger in my kitchen, or the mystery that surrounded my father, this place, and his death.
Chardum’s head dropped, his back turned to me where he stood at the old kitchen sink. I couldn’t read his expression like that, but I could still tell that he was suddenly struggling with some powerful emotions. His voice was a little rough when he spoke. “Your father and I were best friends, we shared a sacred duty together that kept us bound to this land for so long… When Ibecame trapped twenty-six years ago, I thought he would free me, but I could no longer sense our bond.”
He turned his head and glanced over his shoulder at me, his expression unreadable. “Instead, my bond shifted to you… I thought he was dead, but that wasn’t true, was it? Did he raise you well? Did he at least teach you how to use your gifts? Zachary always wanted children…” His words evoked a hollow pain in my chest and I rose stiffly while I shook my head.
As a little girl, I’d wished so hard for my father to show up so that I could have a normal family. Not that my mother had ever made me feel like I was missing out, but I still dreamed of having a dad. My mom had never even talked of Zachary as anything other than with loving praise, telling me fantastical stories of how he was a protector of the earth, a guardian, and a hero. How he couldn’t be with us because his duties were to everyone, not just us. Fantastical stories she told me to make me feel better.
To hear someone say that Zachary had wanted kids, to wonder if he’d been a good dad to me? That felt like ripping off a bandaid on a wound that had never properly scabbed over. It brought to the surface all the feelings of anger and resentment I felt over his abandonment of my mom and me. Even anger at my mom for continuing to love and pine for him when he was out there, but didn’t even so much as write or call. Not even a birthday card.