Which meant,ifI had left them out, then Goldiemighthave come across the recipe honestly.
But, based on her quick redirection of the conversation, probably not.
“That sounds more like it.” He reached over, our arms brushing, and lifted the plug from the sink. “Fayne has taught her the value of recon.” He watched as the grime swirled away, or maybe he was admiring the chills his touches left in their wake. “She wouldn’t have put in the effort unless she felt certain she could stage the scene in a way that resulted in the desired outcome.”
“You make her sound like a diabolical mastermind bent on world domination.”
Though now he had me asking myself if I would have snatched up those berries so fast if I hadn’t already had them on my mind. Even their mushy condition urged me to act. Without first asking her permission. Which created a debt. And…I was starting to see his point.
“I love my sister, but I can’t afford to spoil her rotten like Liam and Fayne. She’s my responsibility, and it falls to me to ensure that the world can sleep at night without fear of waking to Marigold Walsh as their new overlord.”
Magnus he may be, but caring for a clan was different than raising a young girl. Part of him must hate that he couldn’t be the one sneaking her treats but instead must ensure she ate her vegetables. Liam catered to her every whim, but as Goldie’sfather figure, Rían didn’t have that luxury. “Has she always been so goal-oriented?”
“Goal-oriented.” He laughed softly, his breath warm on my ear. “I’ll have to remember that one.” He cut the abandoned notebook a glance. “She fixated on amassing wealth after our parents…” He dropped his forehead to my shoulder as if his head was too heavy to for him to support alone. I barely breathed for fear of spooking him before he finished telling me. “I took her to therapists, four or five of them, but they all told me variations on the same theme.”
Selfish of me, I know, but I tilted my head to lean against his, just a little. “What did they say?”
“She lost everything. Her home. Her parents. Her friends at school as they pulled away from her grief.” A few seconds slipped by while he revisited a past that had gutted him too. “The doctors believe it’s part genetic makeup—dragons do love their gold—and part trauma response.”
“Money is security,” I murmured, heartbroken a child her age had grasped that simple truth.
“Yes, that’s true, but it’s also…” His nose brushed my neck, and he breathed in. “Our dad had a thing for numbers. He loved playing the stock market, and Goldie caught the bug too. She was in a gifted school.” He exhaled slowly. “She’s a math prodigy. I don’t think I told you that. She soaked up a lot more of Dad’s advice than a child her age should have comprehended, but numbers speak to her, and strategy is in her blood.”
“So, it’s a comfort thing too.” I wasn’t surprised to learn she was gifted, far from it, but I did worry public school in such a small town wouldn’t have resources to devote to a mind like hers. Without academic challenges, boredom would set in, and then God help us all. “It reminds her of spending time with her dad.”
“Yeah.” His lips tickled my skin as he spoke. “I just worry.”
“That’s because you’re a good brother.” I lifted a tentative hand, hesitated, then ran my fingers through his hair. “I haven’t known any of you for long, but even I can tell she’s a happy and well-adjusted kid. She has a mercenary streak, but I admire it.” I surrendered to impulse and scratched my nails along his scalp. “You’ve given her the security to spread her wings, uh, metaphorically, so she’s not afraid of falling. She knows you’ll catch her.” A low vibration moved from him into me, almost a purr. “Plus, you’ll never have to worry about ending up in some sketchy old folks’ home. She can afford in-house nurses for you.”
Nose tracing a line across my jaw, he spoke against my pulse. “What about you?”
Had I remembered to turn off the stove? Left the oven door cracked? It washotin here. “W-what about me?”
Thud. Thump. Thwack.
“Oops.” Sloane’s muffled voice rang through the living room. “I smacked the door too hard with my hip.”
With averydignified squeak, I dropped low, ducking underneath Rían’s arms, and popped up beside him as she came into view carrying a stack of VHS tapes piled on top of a chunky VCR.
“You finally did it.” I gawked at her. “Traveled back in time and knocked over a Blockbuster.”
How else could she have sourced such ancient technology in bulk?
Warmth radiated against my side as Rían brushed against me. “You two remember Blockbuster?”
“Vaguely?” Sloane set the rest on the table. “When our local store closed, my parents bought out the kids’ section to create a video library for pack children. I got to play librarian, which was a lot of fun, minus enforcing the infamous ‘be kind, please rewind’ rule. That’s why the name stuck in my head.”
Nostalgia bloomed in her expression, and I tugged the end of her hair. “Your parents were awesome.”
“I thought so anyway.”
As was his habit, Rían spun the conversation around on me. “And you?”
“I have zero memories of Blockbuster, but I do remember their logo from many VHS tapes Mercerforgotto return. He was convinced DVDs were a fad, so he refused to swap over until like…five years ago.” I got a lump in my throat I refused to inspect too closely. “Anyway.” I lifted a dusty tape. “What are these?”
“Home movies,” Rían answered for her, his voice raspy. “I recognize the handwriting. It’s Mom’s. I don’t think she ever left home without her camcorder.” His pale eyes grew darker. “Fayne sent these?”
“For Ana,” Sloane confirmed, rubbing her nape. “There’s, ah, footage of her parents on there.”
