Tonight.
I’ve been in this town long enough. Sure, it’s been fun being around my family. I’ve definitely missed seeing them every day, but this isn’t my life. Not anymore.
“You seem deep in thought.” I’m jerked out of my thoughts at the sound of my grandfather’s voice.
Blinking, I look up from my computer screen. “Sorry, Baba.” I smile, calling him the name I’ve called him since I could speak. Even Cason had switched to calling our granddad Baba because of me. Just as I’ve called our grandma, Bamba. When I wasyounger, I couldn’t get the G sound out well enough. So, they became Bamba and Baba. “I’m just working on some research for the next article I’ll be doing.”
“Where’s this one going to be about?” Baba asks, taking a seat at the table across from me.
“Shiverborn,” I answer.
“I’ve heard of it.” He nods. “Roughly five hours, five and a half tops. Supposedly, it’s a great place to be in the winter.”
“Yeah, some say it’s like a Hallmark scene there, but we’ll see.” I shrug and bite my lip.
“When do you leave?”
I meet Baba’s eyes and give him a small smile. “Should probably head out tonight.”
“You know, time’s changed around here. You don’t have to keep running from your roots.”
“I’m not running from anything.” Okay, that’s not a total lie.
Baba leans forward, eyes intense. “You can’t hide from what fate chooses for you.”
“Fate is what I make it.” I no longer trust in the fates of any origin to see me through anything in this life. “I command my own destiny, Baba. I might have a mark that claims I’m a dragon’s mate, but that doesn’t mean that’s what I want,” I tell him as my phone rings.
I pick it up and sigh at the unknown number. This is the tenth time in the past week since coming home that I’ve gotten these calls. Usually, it’s only one or two a week. This is getting out of hand. I want to answer and scream at them to leave me the hell alone, but my grandfather, sitting across from me, keeps me from doing just that. I don’t need or want him to know about the calls.
Sending the call to voicemail, I return my attention to Baba, waiting for him to say something. Instead, he watches me intently.
Finally, he speaks, voice gruff, “You have your mother’s passion and father’s stubbornness. You’re going to have to learn that you can’t fight everything in life. Not even when it comes to the dragons in your life.”
“I’m not fighting you or Cason,” I mutter, straightening in my seat and closing my laptop. “I just don’t see why a mark on my wrist seals my fate in anything in life.”
“You used to be honored to carry the mark you do,” he reminds me, jerking his chin toward my wrist. The very wrist I now have a tattoo covering said mark.
Well, it’s more or less blended into the tattoo of a dragon breathing fire. The mark blends in with thefire while the dragon curls around my arm, its wings spanned out, and its tail curls around my elbow. It’s a pretty sick piece and not the only tattoo on my body. I have one on my shoulder of a rose encased in fire, burning. Another on my hip, opposite the arm that has the mark. It’s a dragon, its head facing my pelvis. My artist was damn precise in making the dragon match the two together.
I don’t know why I had to have the dragon, but I figured since I refuse to be the mate to a dragon, this is my way of honoring the mark that I refuse to acknowledge any longer.
“Baba, I know you want only what’s best for me, but you have to understand what it was like for me here. I left for a reason.”
“I do want what’s best for you, beautiful girl, and that’s why we’ve all left you to do as you please. We won’t stop you, but one day you’re going to wonder why you keep running away when you should stand strong and fight. You might not be a dragon, but you carry the heart of one as well as the blood.”
Doesn’t change the fact that I’m not one and never will be.
“How about we go for a ride?” Baba suggests, standing to his feet.
I grin at his question, knowing it’s not a questionor a suggestion. He wants to fly but doesn’t want to leave me alone.
“If you insist.” I get to my feet and follow him outside. I haven’t ridden on Baba’s back in more than a decade. I think the last time was when I was seventeen, and now, I’m nearly twenty-eight. “What about Bamba?”
“She’s off doing her book club and errands,” Baba remarks and strips his plaid flannel off. If he weren’t my grandfather, I might ogle him because, for his age, a lot of women would think he’s sinful. “Come on,” he says just before shifting, becoming the remarkable beast I’ve always known him to be.
My grandfather’s dragon form is a beautiful blue and black hue of colors, shimmering with the sun beaming on his scales. It’s absolutely beautiful to see. Staring at him now, I think about all the times when I was younger, and he’d take me up whenever I would be upset. Flying always made me happy.
“Climb on,” Baba commands in my head. If we didn’t share blood, I wouldn’t be able to hear him telepathically. Only mates and those who share blood can hear each other. But even still, with mates, you have to be bonded for it to work. At least that’s what I’d been told regarding dragons. I’m not sure if it’s the same for all those who are supernatural.
