“You okay with all of this?” Brogan asks and I don’t think he just means the sheer number of people I need to transport.
I smile and nod happily. He’s been so welcoming to me and all I want is to do this for him, even if it means making five different trips to and from the garden to get everyone there safely.
It takes three trips in total. Not too bad. When we land, there are a few pale faces and some that are slightly green, but Brogan’s mother strides forward like she’s entirely unaffected and she immediately wraps her arms around Soren in another crushing hug, which he enthusiastically returns. He chuckles at something she says to him and I am momentarily frozen still.
Soren’s laugh is like hot coffee poured over ice. Smooth and rich, and I melt into a puddle as I stare at him slack-jawed.
“Careful or you’ll catch flies,” a woman beside me says. A woman who looks just like a slightly more feminine version of Brogan.
“So, I guess we’re going to be sisters now?” she says with a massive grin. “Welcome to the family.”
11
Echo
Acouple of hours later, the party is well underway. The garden is filled with the smell of cooking meat and there’s soft music playing from somewhere. Tables and benches have appeared from out of nowhere and everyone is scattered, talking and laughing and eating. It’s loud and a little raucous, and I can’t stop smiling at the look on Brogan’s face when he takes it all in. He’s been a little social butterfly, talking to anyone and everyone and introducing me to so many names and faces. There’s no chance of me remembering even half of them. But he keeps giving me these soft looks and I find I don’t care about any of it.
I sit beneath a tree with my mates who are passing around a bottle of moonshine Brogan’s uncle apparently produced. The smell of it is so strong, I feel like my nostrils are scarred from just taking a whiff. It means that the guys are all far more relaxed than I’ve seen them so far. Soren is leaning against the tree beside me, with Brogan on his stomach, resting his hand on my ankle, while Finn claimed the exact spot I was sitting in and scooped me up so I’m sitting between his legs, using his chest as a backrest.
“Have you got any family, Finn?” I ask, aware that I know all about Soren and Brogan’s situations, but nothing about my dragon.
“No, my mate. I’ve lived a long time and even if I were younger, my sire and dam ascribed to a rather old-fashioned view of parenting.”
I try to twist around in his arms so that I can look at his face as I ask, “What does that mean?”
“I was flung from the nest as a fledgling to test my mettle and my wings. From then I was independent, and it was decided I could fend for myself.”
I’m struck silent for a moment as his words sink in. Still not quite able to see his face or his expression, he holds me firm against his chest and I stop squirming. He must not want me to look at him.
“What the fuck?” Brogan mutters, seeming equally shocked.
“How old were you?”
He clears his throat. “I fear if you’re this upset about the whole getting thrown out of a nest thing, the details are only going to make you feel worse…”
“How old?”
His voice is quiet as he replies, “Five or six.”
I feel sick to my stomach. “A baby.”
“Like I said, they were old-fashioned and dragons mature much quicker than humans or shifters. I can’t say that I understand it myself, but it is what it is. When we have our own hatchlings, I would very much like to see them grow and could not imagine doing such a thing.”
“Thank fuck,” Soren mutters.
I meet Soren’s eye, and he shrugs at me.
“Do, er, reapers reproduce?”
“I don’t know. We’re like you in a way. We’re not born so much as brought into existence as young reapers. My mentor had lived alone for centuries and he spent all that time as a lone reaper. He never met his mate, never spoke about the possibility of offspring. But everything, er, works as it should, so I don’t see why we couldn’t… create offspring, I mean, if that was a concern.”
He blushes slightly, but I don’t think I’m imagining the barely banked heat in his gaze as he looks at me.
“Good to know,” I squeak.
We all fall into a slightly awkward silence for a moment and I glance around, wondering if I should get some more food that I don’t want just to break the awkwardness. Before I can move, though, Soren puts a hand on my arm.
“I’m not the easiest person to get along with, Echo, and I might not be charming like Brogan or even like your dragon here, but I want to make it clear that I’m glad to have met you. I’m happy that you’re here.” He speaks quickly and quietly, for my ears only, and I find my heart melting toward this man that seems ice cold on the outside.
