Chapter 1
“He is not meant for me, Noah. Not yet. Not in this lifetime.”
“Are you certain about that, Emrys?” Noah stood by the fire, his hand on the wood mantle, sipping a cup of ale. “I know you love him, and it is quite obvious Trystan feels the same for you.”
“Trystan does not know who I really am, nor does he know the truth of his past.”
“He will if you tell him.”
Emrys ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t meant to bond with Trystan in this lifetime, but in recent months, Emrys’ emotional connection with Trystan had grown stronger, latching on to his heart and bringing deeper feelings of love to the surface. Feelings not meant to be unlocked for hundreds of years still. He didn’t understand why, but he knew he needed to control it. If he didn’t, the results could be disastrous.
“Trystan will know about his origins soon enough, but he must find another to love and with whom to bond.” Emrys schooled his features, hoping to hide the depth of his pain and the chaotic emotions churning inside. He stared into the dancing flames, his gaze vacant.
Noah studied his old friend. “It tears you up inside to say that, doesn’t it?”
“I have no choice, Noah.” His voice came out hoarse, resigned.
“I know, my friend.” Noah shifted his gaze toward his bedroom door. Darkness loomed beyond the doorway, a solemn reminder of the lonely bed awaiting him. His heart ached for the one he loved. His mate. His husband.
Emrys caught his forlorn gaze and frowned. “I still regret I was not there to save him.”
“‘Twas not your fault, Emrys. The blade pierced his heart. No one could save him.” Noah paused and turned away from the empty room. “I am the one who should have been there to protect him from that thug.”
Silence hung in the air between them.
“We mustn’t blame ourselves.”
“I always blame myself, Noah. You should know that by now.”
“And you should know that I see beyond your surface, Emrys. Something has changed. The prophecy, perchance?”
“No, it isn’t that, but you are correct. Something has changed, only I do not know what or why.”
“Perchance you and Trystan are meant to be after all.”
Emrys sighed, his eyes filled with longing. His heart ached with the need to hold Trystan. To love him as he was meant to be loved. For centuries he’d waited for the one in his dream, a carefully constructed wall sealing the deepest, rawest of emotions away as a guardian should. As he’d been trained. “‘Tis cruel of fate to do this when the future of this kingdom is at stake. When Trystan’s very life could be at stake.”
“I imagine so, but then, perchance fate has a purpose after all.”
***
“I thought I might find you here.”
Trystan grinned at the familiar voice drifting over him as he lay in the soft grass beneath the old oak. He opened his eyes and found the smiling, upside-down face flanked by dark brown hair. The face of the man who’d always had a knack for lifting his spirits, even with just his presence alone.
“You know me too well, Emrys,” Trystan smirked. Sitting up, he pushed himself back to lean against the rough, withered bark of the tree. With his feet wide apart, he drew his knees up, letting them rest comfortably, and brushed away a loose piece of grass tickling his forehead.
Emrys came around and stood in front of Trystan, his arms crossed over his chest. He took a cleansing breath, glancing around the meadow. The crisp, clean air held the scent of rain. Gray clouds blanketed the sky above, but the western horizon was clear.
“Your father sold another one of the dragons you made to a little girl and her father.”
Emrys recalled the girl’s name—Isabelle—and the shift behind her bright green eyes when she’d cast a glance his way, as if she’d recognized him. He’d sensed something, an energy disturbance of sorts, but she’d left before he could make out what it was. He had a feeling their paths would cross again.
Trystan glanced up at his best friend with a bittersweet smile, remembering the hours his father had spent with him, teaching him how to make the wooden dragons. It was something he still did in his spare time as a way to honor his father Owaine. And he did love dragons. “That’s good, I suppose.”
“I know you miss him, Trystan. If there is anything I can do, you only need ask.”
“I know.” The memories of his last moments with his father tore at his heart. “But it isn’t only that, Emrys…” Trystan’s voice trailed off.
