Hoarded by the Dragon (Monstrous Matches, #4)(75)

Moon appears to be a man in his forties, but his long white ponytail and curling beard ages him. He doesn’t respond to my presence immediately, almost as if he’s fortifying himself.

Finally, he raises his gaze to mine and arches a silver brow in acknowledgment. “Kalos. It’s been some years.”

Decades. A discomfort bleeds into the confidence that I project. We were friends once.

“Councilor Moon,” I nod. My lips twitch even with the heavy feelings plaguing my chest, and Moon rolls his eyes at the address. “The beard is new.”

The look he shoots me is withering even as he strokes a hand over it. “It gives me an air of gravitas, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” I say. Offending a Council member by saying he looks like the archetype for Merlin won’t do me any favors. I glance around but see nothing familiar in the room. There was a time when at least a few of the items he kept on his shelves were from me.

It’s jarring to realize that I hardly know the man in front of me anymore. The lines of caution and weariness on his face. The plain look covering the tinge of sadness in his eyes.

I have been absent physically as well as emotionally, and now, whether it’s from Rose’s digging into my soul or Rina’s presence in my life… I am awake.

Sorrow threatens to close my airway, the emotion as poignant as if I’m reliving all the ignored invitations over the years, but this time I’m not numb to the consequential loss. Robert Moon had been a casualty of my determination to keep free from all attachments.

I clear my throat. “I came here for an audience, but I should start with an apology.”

Moon’s brows rise in surprise. “An apology from a dragon? I thought I’d never see the day. And what, pray tell, are you apologizing for?”

“For being a terrible friend.”

Flashes of emotion cross Moon’s once familiar face. Surprise, anger, and exasperation—perhaps I should not have begun with this. Finally, when I think he’s going to snarl at me, his shoulders drop. Grief flavors the air. He sighs.

He gestures to two chairs before the picture window in the back of the room. “Let us sit. We have time to speak before you implore me in an official capacity.”

I move toward the seats with trepidation. Everything feels raw around me, and I didn’t anticipate a heart-to-heart when I made this appointment.

Moon starts speaking once we are seated. “When Ava died, you pulled away from everything that had been a part of your life. You seemed to bury your emotions, and I understood.”

It’s a marvel that I don’t flinch at the sound of her name in his smooth voice.

“I thought my presence may survive, but that proved inaccurate.” Moon shrugs. “I do not blame you for your grief. I’ve only mourned your absence.”

“Then you are a better friend than I could ever strive to be.” My avoidance of him wasn’t intentional… but it was effective.

There’s a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Quite right.”

I huff a laugh, but Moon continues switching to a serious manner. “If you truly mean what you say, and this isn’t you buttering me up for a favor… all is forgotten.”

I scoff. “I don’t need to butter you up for a favor.”

“Of course not. Why would the mighty Kalos need anything from anybody? We should all count ourselves lucky to exist on the same plane as his excellence.” His smile is teasing.

I scowl to hide my own humor. “I am not that insufferable.”

Moon raises his brows and shrugs, the motion exaggerated. “If you say so.”

We lock eyes and share a soft smile. There’s a harmony in our bickering that I wasn’t aware I missed.

Moon clears his throat. “Now what did you need this audience for?”

I lean back in the chair, momentarily mourning the lost moment and anticipating his reaction to my words. “I wish to have the permission of the Council to strike against the Leonids.”

Moon’s guffaw is instant. “And you think you don’t need to butter me up for that?”

“They are a threat to me and mine,” I cut into his chuckle.

“They are an opposing territory leader, of course they will be a threat. The purpose of keeping territory leaders around is so that they challenge each other.” And keep others in line.

I tap my talons against the wood part of the armrest. “And because the Council does not wish to deal with the caretaking of the people in our territories. We provide a solution for you, but the Leonids have repeatedly tested their luck and my patience. Sabotaging materials and businesses, releasing troublemakers within my borders—”

“No claws on the furniture,” Moon cuts in, glaring at my hand. “Without them taking violent action against you, the Council will not condone you to be the first to strike.” He makes a thoughtful sound. “It’s hard to imagine that they’d make such rash moves without some sort of backing. Do they have an ally that rivals you in strength?”

I thin my lips. We’ve considered the possibility, but other than espionage, which takes time, there’s no way to know for sure. “We’re unsure. They want a fae gate. If they do have an ally, it could be anyone.”

Moon nods, gravely serious. “That is alarming. The fae realm is going through its own upset. The courts are lobbying to outlaw the consumption of fellow magical beings.”