Wasn’t it?
“You’re forgetting one vital thing, Poppy,” I said gravely. “Even if I accept that fated mates are real, nobody could be fated to a dragon. They’re innately evil. You’ve watched your friends fall in love? Fine. But we’ve seen the destruction with our own eyes. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten it, either.”
Poppy’s eyes flashed with pain. He bit his lip and dropped his gaze to the floor. His frame trembled as if he was about to cry. He must’ve remembered the chaos and violence from that horrible incident.
Poor Poppy. I reached for his shoulder.
But to my shock, he slapped it away.
“No!” Poppy snapped, bristling as he leapt off the bed. “You don’t know what happened that day! That dragon, he—”
Poppy gasped, cut off by a shaking fit. He quaked like someone was physically shaking him. He couldn’t speak.
Worried, I rose to help him. I hated watching him suffer. But he shook his head and hugged his arms to his chest.
“I’m okay,” he wheezed. His voice was weaker than summer ice. “Really, I’m fine.”
My brows furrowed in concern. Yet I was also frustrated that Poppy wouldn’t tell me the full truth. Why was he hiding it from me? I was his clan mate, and his friend. All I wanted to do was support him.
“Poppy.” When his wet brown eyes met my gaze, I asked, “Don’t you trust me?”
He hesitated. I had to admit, that stung.
After a moment, he leaned over and put his small hands on top of my large ones. “I trust you, Rorik. But I’m scared of what you might do. The dragons and their mates… they’re like a family to me.”
That stung, too.
“What about our clan?” I asked defensively.
A shadow fell over his face. “They’re a part of my past I want to forget.”
I winced. I couldn’t listen to this anymore. Hearing Poppy dismiss us so casually crossed a line.
“What about your brother, Sorrel?” I demanded. “He thinks you’re dead. We all did! Wemournedyou, yet here you are, living it up in enemy territory!”
Poppy flinched, but to my surprise, he didn’t back down. His wolf’s eyes gleamed with pride as he shot back, “Then I’m sorry you wasted your grief on me.”
His lip trembled as he hurried out of the room. As he left, the door slammed shut behind him.
A second later, I heard his muffled voice call out, “I didn’t mean to slam the door. But I’m still leaving.”
When it was clear Poppy was gone, I groaned in frustration. Exhausted, I fell back onto the bed. I’d never felt such a raging whirlwind of emotions in a single day. I was supposed to be a calm, stoic bear. I didn’t know who, or what I was anymore.
I rolled over, staring through the window at the distant sea. Even in darkness, moonlight reflected off its waves. Then I remembered the foul heat, and felt homesick for the cold grip of winter and the crackle of ice.
But Poppy’s comments bombarded me relentlessly. Fated mates? Falling in love with dragons? Not wanting to return home? None of it made sense. At first, I’d assumed the dragons brainwashed him, but his eyes were clear. He was the same Poppy I’d known, but with a fresh layer of confidence.
His insistence that the dragons were good and trustworthy threw another wrench in my beliefs. Even after the hell we went through on that horrible day, Poppy put his faith in dragons. I felt like I was losing my mind.
I shut my eyes. In the blackness, a certain sunny face popped into my thoughts: Saffron.
I could’ve opened my eyes and made him vanish, but I didn’t. I let him linger. After my argument with Poppy, the imaginary Saffron was the only person I could turn to.
I took a deep breath. The bed still smelled like him. His aggravatingly addictive scent infiltrated my nose with every inhale—and I liked it.
My chest clenched. I was torn.
Was Saffron truly a dragon?
