“What were we talking about?” I asked.
“The meeting,” Crimson said, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. “Would you like to know what we discussed, or are you content living in blissful ignorance?”
Thystle rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Crimson, we obviously have to tell him.”
“Tell me what?” I asked.
Crimson did an exaggerated bow. “You, my dearest older brother, are the next bachelor of the Dragonfate Games.”
I stared at him blankly. “I am?”
Thystle nodded. “That’s what we all decided.”
I didn’t understand. Most of my younger brothers had yet to have their turn in the spotlight. It made no sense for me to skip the line.
“Why me?” I questioned.
“Whynotyou?” Thystle countered. “You deserve a mate, just like the rest of us.”
I furrowed my brow. That was true, but I didn’t need my younger brother to worry about my love life. That was my job.
Since I took too long to formulate a decent argument, they took my silence as acceptance.
“Great! You’re on for season three,” Crimson announced. “I’m excited to see how this shakes out. Oh,pleaselet me pick an outfit for you. You cannot go on television wearing a T-shirt and jeans.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Thystle grumbled.
Crimson shuddered. “Everything.”
I closed my mouth, my half-baked argument dying on my lips. The decision was already made for me. I was going to be the next bachelor of the Dragonfate Games. Omegas would flock to the island to meet me—and if I was lucky, one of them would be my fated mate.
Without thinking, I lifted my head to the night sky. The dog-shaped cloud was still floating above the moon, almost playful in its lazy speed.
I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
Three
Muzo
“Zavala!”
I winced. The way Bobby barked my last name made him feel more like a drill sergeant than a manager at a fast food restaurant.
“One sec,” I called back.
Grilling burgers was serious work. They had to be flipped at a precise time for the perfect char, all whilenotsplashing myself with hot oil. It took my full focus. I didn’t want a customer to get a sub-par burger because Bobby needed to chat.
“No, not one second, now!” Bobby snarled.
I bit my lip. I counted down the cooking time in my head, but Bobby’s yelling ruined my concentration. I lost track of the seconds.
“Uh,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. Bobby stood at the end of the kitchen with his arms crossed. He tapped his foot impatiently in a ‘get over here now’ gesture.
But the burger needed me. I looked back down to the grill, my trusty spatula at the ready. Was it ten seconds left, or thirty? Damn it. I wished he’d just come to my station to talk instead of pulling me away from my work.
In the end, I chose the burger. I didn’t want to disappoint the customer. Sneaking the edge of the spatula under the burger, I checked the char situation. It was done, but a couple more seconds would’ve been perfect...
“Muzo Zavala,” Bobby roared over the kitchen’s chaos. “If you don’t get your butt over here right now, you’re fired!”
