He tilts his head back and forth as he considers what I said. “I suppose you could be a changeling, but it’s more likely, if the man you grew up with is a white tiger, that your father isn’t your real dad. You probably inherited your dragon side from your birth father.”
I feel a little shell-shocked at him casually dropping the whole your-dad-isn’t-your-real-dad thing. I’m not distraught or anything. The father I grew up with is almost as bad as my mother, so it would actually be a relief not to be related to him.
But that means I have a real dad out there somewhere. And he might actually like me, unlike the parents who raised me and despise me.
It’s more likely that he’ll hate me, though, so there’s no point in getting excited. It’d probably be best if we never meet, honestly.
I’m not going to be able to wrap my brain around it right now, so I change the subject. “I don’t really know anything about being a dragon. Since there’s no way I’m going to learn everything right now, what is the most important stuff for me to know about it?”
Azrael surprises me by rumbling, “The most important thing to know about being a dragon is that we’re always in danger. The fae have been hunting our kind for tens of thousands of years. They are always on the hunt and will spare no opportunity to kill you once you unlock your dragon form.”
“Why are they hunting us?” I ask.
“Because they killed the magic in their world.” Colt’s eyes darken, and he grinds his teeth before blowing out a breath and continuing. “Probably twenty thousand years ago at this point, fae began to industrialize and adopt technology at a rapid pace. They destroyed their natural world in pursuit of progress, much like humans are doing to this world, and the magic in their planet’s core slowly started to die.
“As their realm’s magic weakened, so, too, did their fae magic. Even with their rampant industrialization and adoption of technology, fae still relied heavily on magic to do everything, including powering their tech. Without their magic, they really aren’t fae.
“When they realized their magic was dying, fae were desperate for a solution. They didn’t want to stop industrializing, so, instead, they combed other worlds for ways to siphon magic from those places. The only successful method they found to increase their magic was dragon blood.
“While our blood doesn’t heal their dying world, it gives individual fae the magic they crave. So, they’ve been slaughtering dragons for thousands upon thousands of years to boost their own magic. Thanks to this wholesale massacre, dragons and valors are few and far between. We’re at the brink of extinction.” Colt’s hands are clenched into fists, and he looks like he’s seconds away from punching something or someone.
I have the urge to go over to him and give him a hug, but I don’t know how receptive he’d be to that.
Everything he just told me is a lot to wrap my head around. While it’s cool that I should be able to turn into a dragon, it’s way less cool that dragons are dying out. It’s a lot to process that I’m going to be hunted for my blood for the rest of my life.
Swallowing hard, I ask, “What can we do about it?”
Remy gives me a sad smile and a shrug. “While our blood is the only thing that gives fae magic, our scales are the only thing from this realm that can kill the bastards. In dragon form, we’re lethal to them. And in human form, we use dragon-scale weapons, harvested from fallen dragons, to kill them. Other than fighting the bands of fae we come across, there’s not much we can do. We’re simply don’t have the numbers to really make a difference.”
“I think you’ve asked enough questions for today,” Azrael growls, his jaw tightly clenched. “I have places to be. Do you want to unlock your dragon now or not?”
I don’t know what I did to piss him off this time, but I’m not surprised I did something. The man is perpetually annoyed with my existence.
“Yeah, I want to. What do I need to do?”
He gives me a droll look. “Drink my blood, little bird. I’m the only valor alpha around for hundreds of miles, so I don’t know who else you were hoping would offer up their blood.”
“You’re the alpha?” I ask in surprise, even though I’m pretty sure he told me that the other night. Our conversation is kind of hazy in my mind, although I can remember most of it.
He huffs. “Yes. Now, do you want to do this or not?”
I give him a sharp nod. “Yes.”
He stands up and holds out his hand to me. I push to my feet and hesitantly place my hand in his. He leads me up the stairs without another word.
CHAPTER 33
LARK
After leading me up the stairs, Azrael takes me down the hallway, opposite the direction of the room I stayed in. When we reach the end of it, he pushes open a black-lacquered door that leads into a huge bedroom.
Stepping inside, I look around the masculine space. The entire bedroom is decorated in shades of black, white, and gray. There aren’t any personal touches, photographs, or even any clutter, giving it a sterile feel.
A black wooden bed dominates the space with matching nightstands next to it. A silky black comforter and sheets decorate the massive bed that’s definitely larger than a king. A low-pile gray rug sits under it, warming up the dark wood floors.
Opposite the bed is a desk and a long cabinet in the same black wood. The cabinet has a variety of low glasses and liquor bottles on it. If this is his room, I wonder how often Azrael gets drunk like he was the other night.
It’s none of my business what he does, but that doesn’t seem like the best way to deal with his emotions. Not that I really have room to talk, when I deal with mine by riding way too fast on my bike.
