I nodded, my lips pressed in a firm line so I wouldn't laugh again.
"If you wait until I'm up, I can help you figure out what's wrong with the Sanctuary. Help you get in."
"You don't have to do that. You didn't have to do this either," I said, sobering a little. I hadn't forgotten what he'd said about setting me loose. He might've been joking, but he hadn't been wrong. I was dangerous, especially drunk, and the humans of this town wouldn't have been safe had he left me out there.
Nolan shrugged, but didn't say anything. With a parting nod, he went into his bedroom, with Muffin hot on his tail.
The chickens watched me for a few minutes before retreating to their bedroom, and I turned out the lights and settled on the couch. It was quite comfy, but I still felt cold. Unsettled.
After twisting and turning for a while, I caught the sound of Nolan's deep, even breaths. Good, he was asleep.
Without making a sound, I got up, and took the blanket with me as I snuck into the pets' bedroom.
The moonlight filtering through the open window was more than enough for me to see the animals all curled up in their respective beds, though Muffin's bed lay empty between the cats and Clip, and I grinned.
Clip's head came up as I lowered myself into the empty dog bed, and she snuffled into my side, laying her head on my hip as soon as I settled. Sighing, I covered us both with the blanket and ran my fingers through her soft, thick fur until sleep claimed me.
Nolan
I blinked, sighing. Why was I awake again? One glance at the clock told me it was barely past three. This wasn't right. People weren't supposed to be awake at this hour.
Closing my eyes, I tried to go back to sleep, but thoughts about the man in the other room interfered.
Why now? Why had I found my mate just as I'd decided to give up on love, in all its forms?
I sat up in bed, then leaned over it to pull out the thick journal I always kept beneath my bed. The worn leather cover was as familiar to me as my own skin, and I ran my palm over it, feeling every crease and break in the ancient material.
Carefully, I turned the cover, revealing an equally old page. The papers got more and more modern as the journal progressed, but these early pages were barely holding on. I knew I'd have to replace them someday, to transfer the sketches on them onto new paper so I didn't lose them, but I couldn't do it yet.
I traced the face with my index finger. My first human friend. My oldest friend. The first person I ever lost.
Two thousand years of meeting and losing people, and they were all in this journal. It was my most treasured possession.
All dragons had a hoard, a collection of things they valued. For some, it was jewels, for others, plants, or rocks, or something else. For me, for the longest time, it'd been people. PeopleI'd loved, people I'd cared about. They'd been my family, my companions, and after I lost them, I stored my memories of them in this journal. Not that I could ever forget them.
I spent hours flipping through the journal, like I had a tendency of doing whenever I opened it. My memories of my friends, my lovers, my family, were bittersweet, but I couldn't let go.
It was why I'd decided I couldn't go on like this. Every time I loved someone, I handed over a piece of my heart to them, and when they inevitably left this world, they took it with them.
After all these centuries, I had no more pieces left to give. My heart was in tatters, barely functioning with what little of it I still possessed. I wouldn't survive losing any more slivers, even to my mate.
So Zamir had to go. I'd help him get back home, and hopefully, it'd be the last I see of him.
Muffin whined, nudging my side with her big head, and I scratched her head as I slowly closed the journal, replacing it in its spot under my bed that my magic kept dust-free and barred to my pets.
I lay down on my side, pulling Muffin closer as I buried my face in her soft hair, soaking in her warmth. I knew I'd lose her someday too, but this was somehow easier. I would survive it. Maybe it was because Muffin and I didn't talk, or maybe it was because I didn't give her and my other pets as much of my heart as I would a person.
My pets were the happy compromise I'd found between heartbreak and complete loneliness, and for now, I was content with this, with them.
I didn't need human connections, didn't need to go on camping trips with Sofia, or get closer to my mate.
This made me happy, and it was enough.
Tomorrow, I'd take Zamir back to the Sanctuary, I'd help him get inside, and that would be it.
If needed, I'd find some reason to leave town to put distance between us, but I wouldn't allow our bond to grow any stronger.
