Moon’s eyes widen. “You have a new mate?”
I nod. No matter how much pain or sessions with the soul witch it takes to complete the bond, Katarina is my mate.
“And young on the way.” Somehow this is easier to expose to my old friend than the accidental mating that I intend to complete.
The joy lighting Moon’s features soothes the discomfort of revealing my vulnerabilities.
“Truly? A new dragon will be born? Congratulations!” he says. Moon’s eyes transitioning from shock to wonder with an underbelly of sorrow.
It’s a peculiar thing for creatures as old as we are to anticipate the birth of a member of our species. It’s a new beginning, even as we continually try and solve the issue of fitting into the advancing society developing around us.
It’s a hope for the future. That what we are will extend past what we expect. That we will exist.
Moon shakes his head to bring his thoughts back to the details of this meeting. “If it were up to me, I’d give you the allowance to do with the Leonids what you see fit. I can approach the Council on your behalf, but, Kalos, you will not get the votes. I am only one voice, and the majority will be against you either by allegiance or strategy. And the Leonids will be informed of the attempt.”
I hiss in frustration and shake my head. I would not have the Leonids informed prior to my plans.
Moon nods in silent agreement. He arches his brows. “You’ll need to figure out a different way to destroy them. A way where the Council cannot find you at fault.”
“Very well,” I say.
“Cheer up, my friend,” Moon says. “You have so much to be happy about. A new dragon. Fate truly smiles on you.”
My lips pull into a reluctant smile. I haven’t let myself dwell much about our child. It’s hard with my beast closer to the surface and reactive to all the possible dangers. I rub my chest in thought. I will keep both of them safe.
“Perhaps there will be more unicorns in time,” I murmur. “Our world is ever changing.”
Moon’s smile turns sad, and he drops his gazes out the picture window instead of meeting my eyes. “Unlikely. Our last female decided a long time ago that she will not risk trying to birth more children only to lose them.”
Shock has me blinking. Things start to become clearer. Moon’s continued dedication to the Council though he is almost always outnumbered. The lack of his mate to greet me.
“Moon—” I start, but he cuts in with a shake of his head.
“We live separate lives.”
It isn’t rare for immortal mates to have fights and separations from time to time… but it’s not something I ever thought Moon would struggle with.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be. I only wish her happiness.” Guilt and sorrow hint that there is more to the story than that, but we’ve only just reconnected. If I had accepted any one of his invitations over the years, I would have been able to be here for him as he was for me when I lost Ava and Luke.
Moon sighs and changes the subject. “You do have another plan to strike against the Leonids? One that won’t cause me to work day and night to pull your ass out of the fire after the fact?”
I intertwine my fingers in front of me. “If I told you, that would make you complicit.”
My friend’s glare is many things, but there isn’t an ounce of surprise. After a moment of silent lecturing, he must come to the conclusion that he’s imparted a sufficient amount of wariness to me and he nods.
“I wish you luck.”
We may need it.
“WHERE IS KATARINA?” I ask. I’ve already checked her room, and now I’m in the kitchen expecting to find her making a nighttime snack, but the only occupants are Maggie and Jensen sipping tea. I arch a brow at the shifter but he only sips from his mug happily.
Maggie shrugs. “I’ve been taking her meals to the new studio. She’s been working nonstop since this morning.”
I bite back a smile. When I gave her a studio, I hadn’t expected her to dive into her passions so completely, but I can’t help the bloom of happiness at the result. It’s a bright spot after hearing that the Council will only hinder us rather than help.
“Why? Why do this for me?” she’d asked. As if she has no idea the depth of my feelings for her. Perhaps she doesn’t. It’s been precarious to balance my emotions and the things I want to promise to her.
What would I not do for you?
When I get to the studio, the worries nipping at my heels ease at the sight of my little thief with her head resting on her folded arms on the tabletop, asleep. The room is dark except for a single light set up over the current painting she is working on.
She’s why the dragon part of me has been practically clawing his way out all day no matter how far we traveled from her, but she’s worth it.
I nudge her elbow gently.
“Rina.”
“I only closed my eyes for a minute,” she says sleepily.
“It’s time you came to bed.” I slide my arms around her and lift her from her chair.
She peers at the dark room and sighs. “It may have been for more than a minute.” She curls into my chest and waves a hand. “Make sure to turn off the lamp.”
I huff a laugh at the order from my little queen and get closer to the canvas, tilting her in my arms to reach the lamp.
I freeze. Prickles of awareness and foreboding run over my skin. The colors on the canvas are ethereal, blues, oranges, purples, and reds, the shapes only just starting to blend together organically.
“Rina.” My voice is strained. My chest tight at the familiar sight.
“Hmm?” she says sleepily.
“Was this from a dream?” I ask, hoping that I’m wrong. There are only so many reasons for my thief to be having prophetic dreams involving what’s on the canvas.
“Mmhmm.” She nods.
The fear and worry roar through my senses, but I try to keep myself calm.
Katarina has been painting dragon fire.
33
KATARINA
“THERE’S no telling what it means. It doesn’t have to mean anything!” My sleepiness is long gone, and I sit on Kalos’s bed. I’d rather be doing other things in this bed than discussing my dreams that have meaning, but aren’t helpful, but my dragon paces instead.
He stops in his tracks. “What if he hurts you?”
“Who?” I ask, but the fear and self-recrimination in his eyes communicates who he means.
I force my shoulders to relax and to keep my tone even. “Your dragon isn’t going to hurt his mate.”
“But what if he does?”
The air is tinged with smoke, and I have an irreverent realization that there are no smoke detectors in this entire mansion just for this reason.
“You need to trust him, Kalos. You need to trust that he wants what is best for the both of you.” And worrying that he’s going to hurt me isn’t going to help him be more “aligned” with his dragon. Which means that I don’t get to be Kalos’s mate, but I don’t voice that selfish part.
Are the dragon fire dreams worrisome? Yes, but—
“I have yet to have a dream that has been a helpful message or warning, and I don’t think it’s going to start now,” I say, and the words come out as a beg. I want the worry stringing Kalos tight to ease. I want his wicked smile and even his smug arrogance, but those things have been as absent as his presence.