Fire of Stars and Dragons (29 page)

I scowl. “Would you
please
tell me what that means?” I’m far less pleasant in my tone than he has been during this entire conversation.

“Will you not call me ‘Snobby Dragon’?”

He’s not so different from Snowflake and Smiley, all like children wanting to be their mother’s favorite. It’s ridiculous. “Maybe.”

“You are the one we were told would come, our North Star. Lady Hayden, you are meant to lead us in a new direction, into a new era of evolution as dragons.” Oliver’s quiet statement knocks me breathless, with such a deep meaningfulness to his tone.

“All of you?”

Shaking his head, he smiles, something I don’t see him do often. “No. Only the Goddess Houses of the Dracopraesi, those representing our sanctified principles. Pendragon upholds morality, Graywyne furthers knowledge, and Faerwyng encompasses compassion.”

Chapter 19

*Theo*

“Cait?” She does not answer, and I reach to her side of the bed, finding it is empty, cold. My heart aches, knowing she never returned as I open my eyes, moonlight casting the only light into the room.

Tracing the edges of the site I vividly remember as a former hole in my side, I experimentally stretch, feeling strong and healthy once more, then sit up. Her pillows are just as perfect and neat as they were. Cait’s side of the comforter is untouched, nothing amiss. Tapping the screen of the Sylvr Sky on the wall, I see the time.
1:06 a.m.
Clearly, she has no intention of sleeping here with me, and I trudge off to the bathroom, wanting to appear more presentable before seeking out Cait, picking a wet towel up from the floor as I enter.

I toss it into the laundry hamper, realizing I fell asleep without discarding the towel she warned me about. It is disheartening to think she did not come back in at all, not even to wake me and argue over something unimportant. I would rather bicker with Cait about the color of the sky than have her refuse to speak with me in any way.

A knock at the door just after I start brushing my teeth retrieves me from my thoughts, though they were certainly not going in directions I wished to proceed. “Come in.” My words are rather unclear with a mouthful of toothpaste. Only Oliver would care.

The bedroom door opens and closes again without a sound, definitely not Cait, though I do not believe she would knock on her own door. If she is so furious as to not join me in bed, I am quite fortunate she does not storm in the room and viciously club me over the head, declaring me a ‘crazy dragon,’ or worse.

“How are you feeling? I heard you up and about finally.” He crosses through the room and comes to stand in the doorway. “You look far better.”

Rinsing and washing my face first, I nod. “Physically I am healed; however, I believe I would feel far better otherwise if Cait were in the room when I awoke. She is angry still?”

Dante watches me, choosing his response with careful consideration, worrying me in what state of mind I have left Cait. “Theo, I do not think anger is what Caitriona suffers from in this situation. Although I make no claim to be an expert on the subject, an observational assessment would lend to the conclusion she is quite emotionally pained by your actions. You have hurt her… again.”

I walk past him, finding my shorts exactly where she threw them on the bed earlier, then pull them on and return the towel to the bathroom. “Yes. I know. I told her…”

“I heard everything,” he interrupts as I reenter the bedroom. “I did not tell her I could hear the conversation from the hallway, but I heard it nonetheless. Caitriona needed someone to listen, and I did not feel revealing I already knew the problem would allow the same sense of release for her.”

Moving toward Dante, causing him back up a step in my approach, I glare down at him, a low growl escaping. “Convenient. I fail her. You save her. I tell her you
should
love her. You hear it.… Then what, Dante? She ran out of here infuriated with me and straight into your arms, where you consoled her, assured her you would not make the same mistake, declared you could love her better?” I question through clenched teeth, trying to maintain some measure of calm.

Quirking a brow, he seems amused by my anger. “I have no doubt I can love her better in some ways. I would not make the same mistakes, as I would assuredly make my own. I did console her in the only manner I know how, but I did not take her into my arms, merely held her hands in a gesture of sympathy for her pain.” With a sharp laugh, Dante shakes his head. “Do not think I misunderstand my place, Theo. I am in your shadow, exactly where Caitriona put
all
other men from the moment she connected with you. For some brief time, she may have chosen me, believing you did not want her, and indeed, she does love me, but I always remained overshadowed. Anything she feels for me is mere nothingness in comparison to her love for you.”

Turning away, I allow myself a small smile at the thought that he believes that, despite what I have said and done. “Yet she is not here, Dante.” I swipe her hairbrush from the dresser, letting the lavender scent hanging on it so strongly rush over my senses before raking it through my own hair. “Did you come to tell me you so kindly lent her your bed, too?”

“No. She fell asleep on the sofa.” He sounds quite annoyed by this fact. “Everyone offered their beds, even Corrin when he overheard she was trying to sleep in the living room, and yet she refused us all.”

“His head still remains attached?” That’s a shocking revelation given the circumstances.

“He remains under guard as our prisoner, per Caitriona’s orders. You are a fortunate man, Theo. Your wife is everything a man could want: strong, intelligent, beautiful. I cannot begin to do her justice in praising Caitriona’s leadership skills with no guidance. She took matters in hand with absolute confidence.”

I cannot help but sigh in disappointment–disappointment in myself. “She is not my wife, Dante.”

My friend waves off the remark with a slight gesture of his hand and an expression insinuating I’m being ridiculous. “Yes. Yes. Lest you forget, I have studied linguistics and semantics extensively, Theo. However, the specific meaning of the word does not account for spiritual interpretations of marriage. Caitriona chose you. You chose her. You have already consummated the relationship; therefore, for all intents and purposes, Caitriona is quite indeed your wife. If I felt the matter negotiable, perhaps I would continue pursuing her.”

“But Cait leads with her heart. That is what makes her our North Star.… My North Star. And her heart is what I have broken, as you so eloquently pointed out,
again
. She might not see the concept of marriage quite the same way, and may want more than a simple declaration to feel the matter is settled.” I fear I have undone all I desired to accomplish with Cait. “One may think her utterly mad to accept mere words from me, choosing to forgive the pain I have caused her.”

“As much as you wish to spend time wallowing in your own self-doubt, Theo, it truly serves no purpose aside from aggravating Caitriona and giving me pause to reconsider why I do not find it far more reasonable to take action in favor of my own interests.” His harsh stare punctuates the annoyance with both himself and me etched in his features. “Simply because you have not previously experienced the emotions you feel for her now does not make them any less valid or you any less worthy of them. You would not lie in this path if Mother did not find you suitable as Caitriona’s husband, and quite honestly, there are aspects of her you understand far better than I.”

I laugh at his blatant, incorrect assumption. “It is not a matter of understanding her better. I merely find Cait’s confounding behaviors and reactions exciting, invigorating. You find her intriguing, whereas I find her provocative and enthralling.”

His puzzled expression is amusing, but I say nothing, and I leave the matter be.

“Oliver told her she is akin to catnip for dragons. He told her a good deal more as well.” The stern expression on his face tells me I may not care to hear this.

“My brother never breaks the rules. He does not even bend them in the slightest. What would possess him to do such a thing?” I do not know why I ask though, sure Cait drove him to it, whatever the cause.

“I was not in the room at the time, but I am told she outright stated she did not trust him, and ordered that he was to remain in custody with Corrin for so long as he is unable to commit his allegiance alongside his kindred brothers. Caitriona will not abide by his insistence to attempt to appease both sides,” Dante states matter-of-factly, and I have no doubt she did not hesitate to remove Oliver from his self-appointed pedestal. “I believe the so-called ‘icing on the cake’ was her calling him Snobby Dragon. He found his nickname less than pleasing.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” Snorting in laughter, I’m disappointed to have missed it.

“Caitriona never calls me by anything other than my name.” His comment is quiet, full of his own disappointment.

There are many ways I could respond: anger or jealousy while he continues holding onto his feelings for her, wistfully desiring Cait to see him differently, but I cannot begrudge him the very emotions I suffered watching Dante with her. “Dragons will always mean something to her others will not, even though she does not realize what quite yet. Her response to us is unique. Cait has held no fear of the Dracopraesi from the moment we met, so unlike any others.”

“No. She does not fear any of us. I should have known immediately there was far more than appearances told. A human woman, even one as equivalently fair-born as Caitriona, would never react to any of us the way she has from the beginning, with no fear, no awe, no tendency toward submissiveness, as Corrin’s reign has ingrained as proper. Knowing how and when to play the suitable role is part of her high-society upbringing, but it is most definitely not in her nature.” He purses his lips thoughtfully. “I suppose if I had given it more consideration, I might have taken a DNA sample. A relatively simple test could have revealed if the mitochondrial mutation had reached the anticipated maturation stage in Caitriona.”

“And I am quite certain she would have appreciated the scientific analysis of her state of being just as much as she must have loved being told she is dragon catnip, Dante.” I shake my head, unsure whose approach to Cait’s destiny is worse, though I am not particularly doing a stellar job myself. “I am going to find Cait.”

***

“Do not get too comfortable. She is not for you.” Entering the living room to the sight of Cait asleep on the sofa, head in Jai’s lap, legs draped across Claaron’s, they both appear quite pleased with themselves, in the height of their glory, basking in her attention, though she is unconscious.

“Yes, and clearly she is for you, Theo. She stepped one foot into the room, saw you had not done something she told you to, and came storming back in here too furious to be near you,” Claaron remarks with a grin. “Right now, I do believe she likes us far better.”

Jai smiles innocently. “Cait loves me.”

I find it difficult not to growl. “I do not doubt she does, Jai.”

“Cait loves her dragons.” His voice is soft, yet sure of his words.

“Yes. Perhaps many dragons will love her.” This is something I had not expected, did not foresee. “But I love Cait quite uniquely.”

He nods with his impish grin. “Our North Star is your mate.”

I want to take his words and hold them, keep them somewhere safe, trust they will never die, will remain true as only that which Jai sees can so surely be. “Then you will not mind if I take her from you.”

“After we suffered through painting Cait’s nails, the least you could do is let us keep her one night.” Claaron can’t resist teasing me.

“No.” I’m in no mood for teasing and quite adamant in my expectations. “I will not.” Without further discussion of the matter, I scoop Cait into my arms, holding her close, pleased to find she curls against me, sleepily wrapping her arms around my neck.

She opens her eyes for a moment as I walk toward the hall to her bedroom, our bedroom. “Theo.” Cait half smiles and buries her face in my bare skin, and I feel her breath on me, the way she inhales my scent. “You remind me of the fireplace at the lodge in Aspen where Uncle Thomas took me skiing.”

Cait comparing me to a fireplace leaves me at a loss for a response. “Do you wish to go directly to bed?” I want to talk with her, and do not want to allow her to remain angry, but I will not push her if she is too tired.

“If my nail polish dried, I’d like a bath.” She yawns as I reenter the room, and I realize she has no idea how late it is.

“It will be fine.” I continue to the bathroom, knowing if I lay her on the bed, she will fall back asleep then become furious in the morning I did not let her take the bath she wanted… if she remembers she wanted one. As human males used to say, I am already in the doghouse. I do not wish to stay there. She might banish me to sleep in my office.

She sits on the edge of the extravagant garden tub as I run the water, adding jasmine scented bath oils I find in a cabinet while gathering everything I believe she will need. Cait stands suddenly, and I turn, expecting she may fall, not awake enough to be safe, but she begins removing her clothes, eyes wider and brighter than I anticipated. I cannot take my own eyes off her, though I am unsure if she feels I am in any position to have such a right, watching her undress.

Bared to me, Cait shows no hint of embarrassment. She is the embodiment of the Goddess, everything a woman should be: soft curves, slopes and valleys to explore, a delight for the hands to traverse. Her silken, mahogany hair cascades down, curtaining over the fullness of her breasts; my eyes are drawn to the feminine curvature of her hips—womanly, beautiful.

“Do you want me to be with Dante?”

The question pulls me to her unrelenting gaze. “No.” I cannot explain my actions, the foolish words I speak, but I do not wish to lose her.