Dragon's Heart (The DragonFate Novels Book 3) Read online

  “I don’t see what there is to talk about.”

  Rhys exhaled. “Explain to me what it means for you to choose, please.”

  “It’s the way of our kind. We’re immortal and fertile, but we choose when to conceive. Some selkies have lots of offspring. Others have none. Some permit themselves to conceive when they fall in love. Others made dynastic decisions or strategic ones.” Lila shrugged as if indifferent, but she was watching him intently.

  Warily.

  As if he was the unpredictable one, which would have been funny if he’d been in a better mood.

  She was immortal. He hadn’t been sure. Was that the issue?

  “Tell me the truth: did you change your mind, or did you mislead me?” Rhys asked, keeping his tone as neutral as he could. He glanced Lila’s way, suspecting that his reaction showed.

  “Which do you think?”

  “I’d prefer to think that you changed your mind, because otherwise, I don’t understand you at all.”

  “Plus that means that maybe you can persuade me to change it again, especially if you understand me.” She smiled. “Although that will mean satisfying the firestorm again, which isn’t such a bad idea.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Lila’s gaze clung to his. “It was great,” she said with soft heat and Rhys felt the firestorm’s insistence all over again.

  “It was,” he agreed, unwilling to look away.

  “But that’s not it.” She put down her mug with purpose. “I reconsidered when I could think straight again. You said you went through the portal to Fae and the firestorm sparked, then you followed it to me.”

  “Yes.”

  “But I didn’t think I was in Fae, so that means...”

  “Either I left Fae or you entered it,” Rhys guessed.

  “Which means that one of us owes a debt to the Dark Queen, because we aren’t in Fae anymore and no one who enters can leave without paying a price.”

  Rhys glanced at his feet.

  “You paid one toll, not two. Both feet count as one price.”

  He nodded grimly in understanding.

  “It also means there’s a portal near my home, one I didn’t know about, and that’s not good news.” Lila frowned with impatience. “I can’t conceive a child with those uncertainties,” she said, her gaze filled with appeal. “I won’t bring a child into the world, just to have him hunted down by the Dark Queen.”

  Rhys could understand that and felt reassured by her concerns. “You’re not saying never.”

  “I’m saying we have work to do first.” Lila smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And maybe it’ll improve the second time. Better answer?”

  “Much better.” Rhys filled up her tea, then handed her the list he’d written out.

  “What’s this?” She scanned it then met his gaze again.

  “A list of the Pyr who are my best friends. When you choose to conceive, you can call any of them for help.”

  She was clearly puzzled. “I’d call you first.”

  “But if I’m not around.” Rhys didn’t like talking about the possibility of his own demise, but it seemed a lot more likely these days. Was Lila right that he owed a second toll to Maeve? He didn’t want to think about that, but knew he had to. Either way, the Pyr were being hunted and anything could happen. “We Pyr take care of each other.”

  Lila folded the list and slipped it away. It disappeared and Rhys wasn’t sure where it went. “Selkies don’t,” she said easily. “We take care of ourselves and often spend a lot of time alone.” She smiled at him. “People talk about the challenges of herding cats, but that’s only because they’ve never tried to build consensus amongst selkies.”

  “Dragons don’t agree that readily either.” Rhys presented her with eggs benedict with smoked salmon, garnished with fresh fruit.

  “Oh,” Lila said and her smile lit her eyes this time. “If you’re trying to win me over with food, you’re totally acing it.” She took a bite and visibly savored it, closing her eyes as she chewed. “I thought you said the Pyr didn’t have magickal powers,” she said softly. “This sauce is pure wizardry.”

  “Butter fat,” Rhys said, serving his own plate. “It hides a multitude of sins.”

  Lila laughed, an infectious sound that prompted his own smile, and Rhys sat down beside her to eat. The firestorm crackled and burned, the tingle of it making him aware of every physical sensation. He could smell the sweet musk of Lila’s skin and taste the contrast of the smoked salmon and the silky béchamel sauce. The sparks danced along his skin and his breathing matched hers, giving him that dizzy sensation that was so addictive. When she reached to kiss his cheek, he thought the surge of pleasure might take him into orbit.

  “What are you feeling?” she whispered and he opened his eyes to find her face close to his, her gaze filled with curiosity.

  “Because you’re my mate, the firestorm compels my heart to match the pace of yours, and my breathing to synchronize with yours.” Rhys shook his head in wonder. “It creates a feeling of union that’s almost overwhelming.”

  “Like coming simultaneously,” she said.

  “Yes, but better. More intense.” Rhys turned to her and was snared by her smile and the light in her eyes. How many times would she choose not to conceive? How many times would they satisfy the firestorm? Even the chance to do it twice blew his mind.

  He forced himself to look down at his breakfast and take another bite. They had to figure this out to eliminate her concerns. Rhys agreed with her, and wanted to do his part. “Tell me about the children of your kind,” he invited.

  “What about them?”

  “What powers do they have?”

  “It depends,” Lila said. “Only a mating with another selkie will create a selkie child. They’re indistinguishable from seal pups until they learn to shift, which happens when they’re about two years old. They swim with the herd of grey seals until then.” She frowned. “Actually, it’s humans who can’t distinguish our children from seal pups. The seals know.”

  “How can you tell? Can you communicate with the seals?”

  “As children, yes. Some of us maintain that later while others forget. But even so, they treat us and our children differently. We’re allowed in the herd, but on the perimeter. It’s important that we defer to their leaders to keep the peace, and they vigorously defend the boundaries between us in mating season.” She met his gaze. “We don’t mate with seals. Ever.”

  “But you research them.”

  She nodded. “Seems like a natural fit for a job for me. I understand them a bit better than most researchers and they trust me a bit more because of my nature. They come to North Rona to deliver their pups on the beach and I help.”

  “That would increase their trust.”

  “Yes.” She finished her breakfast and gave him another stunning smile. “That was delicious. I was really hungry and it was perfect.” Once again, Rhys was struck by her sincerity and honesty.

  He liked her.

  He wanted to be mates in every possible way, and not just because he believed in the firestorm’s promise. That meant he needed to find out why Lila was so set against relationships.

  Maybe the healer needed to be healed herself.

  Rhys got up to refill her tea, thinking furiously. “What happens when you mate with those who aren’t selkies?”

  Lila sobered. “With men, our children are human. They’re mortal. They can’t shift shape.” She spread her fingers. “They might have webbing between their fingers and some have psychic gifts. Some say they’re particularly beautiful or that they’re instinctively good swimmers. I’m not sure that’s true.” She met his gaze. “You said the Pyr children are always boys and that they come into their powers at puberty.”

  Rhys nodded. “They are also always, as far as I know, the offspring of one Pyr and one human woman. They’re mortal, but have the powers of their fathers. We don’t mate with other kinds.”

  “Or with your own
kind.”

  Rhys blinked. “There’s only one female at a time, the Wyvern, and it’s taboo to be with her.”

  “Anyone ever done it?”

  “They both died, sacrificing themselves,” he admitted softly.

  Lila’s brows rose. “So, if we had a son, he would likely be Pyr.”

  “But would he?” Rhys had to ask. “Or would he be another new kind?”

  “A dragon shifter after puberty, with webbed fingers and a gift of foresight from birth,” Lila suggested. Her eyes twinkled. “I expected you to say there’s one good way to find out.”

  “But your concerns are valid. If he’s his own kind, he’d be the only one.”

  Lila frowned. “She’d want to strike him off her list.”

  “Exactly.” Rhys forced himself to say the words. “And it would be pretty easy for fifteen or twenty years. Once he comes into his inherited gifts, he’ll have to train to learn how to use them best. Until then, he’d have only you to defend him, or only me, if you surrendered him to me.”

  “And your fellow Pyr.”

  “I hope so, even though he’d be different.”

  Lila considered him. “Are you seriously arguing for a permanent connection again, even before I’ve decided to choose to bear your son?”

  Rhys smiled. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. I think we’re good together.”

  “I work alone. I live alone. I am alone.”

  “Me, too, a lot of the time, but I miss having a family.” He pointed out the obvious. “If he’s not Pyr, how am I going to defend a seal pup that I can’t distinguish from the others?”

  “Do you really think you wouldn’t know?”

  Rhys shrugged. “I might. We have keen senses. But the fact is that I’m a lousy swimmer and that could be a problem.”

  Lila smiled. “Maybe I should just teach you to swim.”

  They smiled at each other and their gazes locked. The firestorm seemed to glow with greater intensity and Rhys found himself thinking of heading back to the bedroom again. But no—when they satisfied the firestorm again, he wanted to know that she would choose to have his son. He started on the dishes. “Is it that you don’t have family or you don’t want one on principle?”

  “Both.” Lila came into the kitchen and poured herself more tea. “What happened to your family?”

  “Well, the usual thing that happens to mortals. I had a brother, a twin, and I miss him every day.”

  “Now, there’s twins in your bloodline,” Lila said with a shake of her head. “Two boys! You should come with a warning label, Rhys Lewis.” Her tone was teasing, though, and Rhys didn’t take offense. “What happened to him?”

  “He died. There was a battle between Pyr and Slayers, good dragon shifters vs. bad dragon shifters is the easiest explanation. We both went to fight.”

  “What’s bad about Slayers?”

  “They refused to defend the treasures of the earth, of which humans are one, and were concerned with their own goals instead of the greater good. Some of them advocated eliminating humans completely. They’re gone now.”

  “The Dark Queen?”

  “No, we fought against them ourselves. The final battle was long foretold and ended recently: the Pyr won. But that fight in the nineteenth century cost many of our best, including my brother.” Rhys took a deep breath, the pain of loss as sharp as when it had been new. “He was my constant companion, blood of my heart, breath of my lungs. We learned to manage our abilities together, fought together to hone our skills, shared our hoards and were so close as to be each other’s mirror. For two hundred and sixty-two years, he was always there, and then suddenly, he was gone. I still look for him.”

  “When was that battle?”

  “1807.”

  “More than two hundred years ago,” Lila mused and she put a hand on his shoulder. “Most would think that an eternity, but I know it can pass in the blink of an eye.”

  Rhys nodded and put his hand over hers, appreciating her sympathy. “I was a bit of a mess for a while,” he admitted roughly. “Didn’t you ever lose anyone?”

  She averted her gaze, avoiding his question. “What was your brother’s name?”

  “Llewelyn.”

  “Are you Welsh dragons?”

  Rhys shook his head. “No. Our father fought as a mercenary across the Mediterranean. He was from Macedonia. He met our mother in Malta, when she took a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. She never made it there, thanks to the firestorm, but I’m not sure she regretted it. She loved the heat and the sun: they settled in Malta and we were raised there. It was only after their deaths that Llewelyn and I went to Wales together. We were two hundred years old before we saw the land our mother remembered to her dying day.”

  “Did you stay there?”

  He laughed a little. “No. We went south, back to Malta, then ultimately west.”

  “Your mother’s sons,” she said with a smile.

  “That sunshine gets in your blood.” He watched the flicker of the firestorm and thought it would be just as hard to forget.

  “And you went to war.”

  He nodded. “I met my friend Kristofer after the battle against the Slayers. His brother also flew to war, and the three of us had fought together. Storme spoke of Kristofer often, and when he and Llewelyn died, I slaughtered the Slayer responsible then took the news to Kristofer. I was injured myself, as well as heartsick, and Kristofer welcomed me. I stayed with him for a long time, apprenticing to him, and we became good friends. He put up with me when I was a lot of trouble and I appreciate that.” Rhys felt Lila watching him but didn’t want to review his past sins.

  “Does Kristofer live here?”

  “Vermont. He was the one who followed the spark of his firestorm into Fae at Bones. The firestorm was a spell, but he and Bree had a real one after their battle with Embron.”

  Lila moved away at the mention of Embron and her tone became crisper. “I understand that you miss having family, but I can’t give you that, Rhys. If we can ensure that he won’t be hunted, I’ll give you a son, but that’s it.”

  “If you’ve never had family, how can you be so sure you won’t like it?”

  “I know,” she said with force. “I won’t have children...”

  “How can you be sure until you try?”

  She stared at him for a long moment, her heart in her eyes, and he knew the instant she decided to confide in him. “But I did try,” she admitted quietly, her gaze softening. She swallowed, her throat working, then her words fell in a rush. “I had a son and a daughter. I was snared and thought that conceiving them would gain my freedom. He lied to me.” Her tone turned bitter. “He kept my skin and he hid it from me. He compelled me to remain in human form and denied me my birthright and called it love. And when I finally found my skin, I left without a backward glance. Family is not for me.”

  It was that story, the old story, and Rhys hated that it had happened to Lila. That it had also explained a lot of her reservations.

  He had to fix this or his firestorm had no chance of a future.

  He had to win her trust, no matter what price.

  Eight

  Rhys looked down at his cold coffee. He knew his question wouldn’t be welcome, but he had to know. “What happened to the children?” he asked softly.

  “I don’t know!” Lila said, turning away from him. “They were mortal. I’m sure they died eventually. I’m sure they forgot me.”

  Rhys shook his head. “They would never forget their mother. They would never forget you, Lila.” He was trying to reassure her, but saw immediately that he’d failed.

  She stood up and looked as if she might run. “What difference does it make?”

  “Maybe you already have family and you’ve just lost track of them,” he suggested.

  Lila was visibly shocked and retreated a step. “No! No one depends on me except the seals, and even they would continue to bear their pups without me. I make no connections. I have no obligations.” Her voice
turned fierce. “I don’t owe anything to anyone!”

  That wasn’t how Rhys thought of family.

  “Maybe we should find out for sure,” he suggested. “When did this happen and where were they born? What were their names?”

  “No!” Lila said, her eyes flashing. She hurried into the bedroom and returned more quickly than Rhys would have thought possible. She was dressed, and at the door, pulling on her boots.

  “You can’t leave!” he said and saw her shiver at his words. He pushed a hand through his hair. “I mean, you can leave. Of course.” She didn’t even glance his way. “I’d just rather you didn’t. We’re destined mates. I’ve waited for this, Lila, for the chance to have a family again...”

  She spun to face him, bracing her hands on her hips. “Don’t you think what I want matters, too?”

  “Well, of course. But it’s not safe with Embron and the Dark Queen out there...”

  “I’ve taken care of myself for as long as I can remember,” Lila said, her tone harder than it had been. “I’ll be just fine, even without a dragon at my back.”

  “But where will you go?”

  “Back to my island. I’m going to find that portal and lock it forever.” She looked resolute.

  “I can help,” Rhys suggested.

  “No.” She held out a hand and the sparks flared between them. “This will only make it easy for Embron to find us again, and I’m not going to be an easy target.”

  “I’d defend you,” he said but she ignored him, turning her back on him.

  “I lost my coat,” she said, opening the closet. “I’ll borrow one and send it back.” She chose one of his jackets, tugged it on then spun to face him. “Don’t follow me, Rhys. If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.” Then she opened the door and flung herself out of his apartment, moving as if she couldn’t put distance between them quickly enough.

  “The firestorm isn’t supposed to go like this!” Rhys shouted in his kitchen, but there was no one there to hear.