His eyes rounded as he swiveled to face me. “No, I know. I’m sorry…” He rubbed his arm anxiously. It was a familiar gesture, even after all this time apart. “It’s just…”
He went silent for a few beats, staring at his balled-up fists on his knees. Then it all spilled out in an anguished wail.
“Please don’t kill Saffron! Or any of them! Please, Rorik, I’m begging you!”
His outburst stunned me. I’d never heard him speak his mind so openly, or even raise his voice.
“I didn’t kill Saffron,” I reassured him. “He’s fine. He left five minutes ago because—”
Because of an inane argument? Because I couldn’t figure out my own feelings? I didn’t know how to finish that statement.
Poppy sniffled, holding back tears. “Oh, that’s good. He’s okay…” Then he sniffled again, pausing. He deliberately scented the air. “Um. This is rude of me, I’m sorry. But the room smells like…” He blushed. “Sex.”
There was no hiding from his sensitive wolf’s nose.
“Yes, we had sex,” I said bluntly.
Poppy’s eyes suddenly brimmed with hope. He broke into a huge smile. “Rorik! You and Saffron? Really?”
“Yes,” I mumbled, my cheeks flushing. “Keep it down.”
Poppy gasped, too ecstatic to hold back. “Does that mean he’s your fated mate?”
I grimaced at the phrase. It was overly sentimental, too saccharine.
“Fated mates are not real, and you know that,” I said firmly.
Poppy met my gaze evenly. The hope on his face twisted into fierce resolve. “Yes, they are.”
I was taken aback. Poppy? Standing up for himself? I couldn’t believe it.
“That’s nonsense,” I said, not unkindly. “We know fated mates are a fable. The only duty an omega has is to—”
A random ghostly pain pricked my skull. Shaken, I grabbed the side of my head.
I imagined Saffron’s pissed-off expression. I couldn’tnotimagine it. It was like he’d teleported into my mind to scold me for what I was about to say.
His voice echoed:Don’t let me hear you say that ever again. I won’t have you reduced to a womb.
In the real world, Poppy frowned. He looked angry. I’d never seen that expression on his face before.
“You’re wrong, Rorik,” Poppy said. “What the tundra clan alphas drilled into us… it’s not true.”
I grunted, still clutching my head. “It is.”
It was becoming difficult to get the words out.
“I’ve seen it happen, Rorik,” Poppy insisted, his voice rigid. “Not once, not twice, but five times. Two of my closest friends found their fated dragon mates on this island.”
I dropped my hand. Poppy found new friends? That was a relief.
“You seem to be doing well for yourself in your new life,” I remarked.
Poppy shuffled in his seat, uncomfortable that he was the topic of conversation again. “This isn’t about me. Please believe me, Rorik. Fated matesarereal.”
He said it so fervently that it was almost impossible not to believe him. The naive part of me wanted to.
But I was a warrior. If Poppy was a gentle idealist, I was a stark realist. The idea of a true love so potent it could conquer anything was unreasonable.
