Page 56 of Mad Dragon of Chaos

“Are you crazy?”

Shey blinked. That was not the reaction he’d been expecting. Of course, he hadn’t been sure what to expect from her. “What?”

His sister groaned and flailed against the couch, throwing her arms out. “You have the worst taste in men.”

“What the hell? You liked Rayne.” He stomped to her side and sat with a huff.

“I adored Rayne. He’s sweet, thoughtful, and far too smart for you. He used to tell me about his sister and life in Stormbreak. And he never treated me like the annoying little sister.”

“So how can you say I have the worst taste? Are you saying that Rayne was too good for me?”

She started to roll her eyes but stopped, appearing thoughtful. Shey made a sound of disgust and tried to shove to his feet again, but Fiona caught his arm, holding him next to her.

“Ugh. No, Rayne was amazing, but you knew it would never work out.” She gave his arm a shake, her fingers tightening almost to the point of pain. “That’s how you operate every time. You went to university, and out of the hundreds of hot eligible guys, you looked right at Rayne—the one who could never stay in Caspagir—and said, ‘Yes, that’s the one I want to break my heart.’ And now you’re hooking up with a god. How is that even supposed to work? Do gods date?”

“We’re not hooking up. It was a kiss,” he grumbled. Technically, there had been several kisses now, but that wasn’t helping his case. He hated it more that what she said made sense. He did have a track record of being drawn to people where the circumstances were complicated, only to have his heart broken. Rayne was the worst, though.

His mother had attempted to introduce him to what she called “nice boys” who were educated, came from good families, and had no complications. But there hadn’t been even the smallest flicker of interest for any of them.

“I’m sorry, Shey.” She rested her head on his shoulder and released his arm to wrap her arms around his waist. “Tyche is probably sweet, and I want to meet him. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Shey forced a smile into his voice and turned his head to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I think it’s a bit early to be worried about that. He’s a friend. That’s all. I would be happy to introduce you to him.”

“Good.”

“But go easy on him. He’s skittish with people.”

She snorted. “A dragon and a god. How crazy. It’s your job to make sure they don’t eat me or curse me.”

“I’ll do what I can.” He patted her arm, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Why don’t you get some sleep? It’s late. I need to check on Tyche and the others before I turn in. Tomorrow’s going to be another busy day.”

“Fine. Just make sure you make it to your own bedroom.”

They stood together, and he watched her walk out of his office, her arms swinging loosely at her sides.

“Fee?” he called out as she reached the door. She turned to him, her head canted to the side in a silent question. “I really am proud of you. Our people would have been lost without you.”

A tight smile spread across her lips, and she swallowed hard. She darted across the room and threw her smaller body against his, wrapping him up in a tight hug that squeezed his heart almost to the point of crushing it.

“I’m so glad you didn’t get yourself killed.”

Shey choked on a laugh as he hugged her. “Yeah. Me too.”

It was good to be home. Even if it was only for a little while.

TWENTY-ONE

SHEY THRUDESH-VO

Shey found Tyche sitting on the floor of his half-moon balcony, his back against the railing and his arms around his bent legs. His hair was damp, as if he’d taken a shower recently, and he was wearing a pair of black jeans and an oversized sweater that threatened to fall off one shoulder. The small bit of pale skin that was visible glowed in the moonlight, giving him an ethereal aura. The clothes, however, made him appear fragile. Shey had seen the god’s power. He wasn’t weak or helpless in the slightest.

As he approached, Tyche lifted his face and gazed wordlessly at Shey. Dark circles underlined his bright-green eyes. He blinked slowly, and for a moment, it was as if he were staring straight through Shey. An icy chill struck Shey, sending goose bumps down his arms. His heart stuttered as fear gripped him tightly in a frigid, bony fist.

Without thinking, he rushed forward, dropped to his knees beside Tyche, and grabbed his face with both hands, pulling him in for a hard kiss. He felt Tyche flinch, and his hands landed on Shey’s shoulders. Shey tensed, waiting for Tyche to shove him away, but a heartbeat later, the fingers curled, twisting in his shirt as he pulled him closer. His mouth softened, and he returned the kiss. It wasn’t passionate abandon but more like cautious confusion.

Every warning word Fiona had spoken echoed through his brain. He was setting himself up for heartbreak. Reaching for Tyche like this meant he was grasping for the impossible, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not when Tyche looked at him like that. He was lost. Drowning. Alone.

Shey refused to allow Tyche to feel that. He wasn’t alone, and Shey would always find him.