2. Weston

Chapter 2

Weston

" S he's fucked," Hadriel reported as the sun was starting to set.

"Come again?" I stopped on the deck, my work for the voyage finished with very little that would need my attention in the days to come. It was the captain's ship now. He called the shots. It would be a welcome reprieve.

Hadriel grinned. His face was still pale, but he looked in better spirits than usual. "I haven't come yet today, actually. Was that an invita—" His grin faltered and he bent his head downward. "Sorry, habit."

I knew well. The crew that had endured the curse of the dragon court were all very colorful. It was a standing royal order to give them a little slack. Very little, sometimes. Like now...

He cleared his throat and told me about the contents of the letter.

Rage simmered in my gut, and I looked away. That woman was scum and clearly had no conscience. Poor Aurelia. She was probably the only one who didn't know.

Well, who hadn't known was more accurate. She'd told Hadriel we'd cracked her world open and shown her what was inside. That was certainly true. Now she had to come to grips with the reality of the person she'd looked up to, the one she'd idolized and thought was family. It would be a hard reality to face.

"The good news is that I don't think the situation is unsalvageable for you," Hadriel finished. "I think she could use your company, actually. For the bond, if nothing else. She might be pissed for a while, but what's new, right? You two have gotten through worse."

"I'm headed that way now," I said, not daring to hope. What a mess this whole thing with Aurelia had been—what a terrible start to a true mate bond.

She didn't respond when I knocked lightly on the door. It wasn't locked, though, so I slowly pushed into the darkening room.

She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Tear tracks cut lines down the sides of her cheeks, the slight sheen visible though no new tears fell. My stomach knotted from the pain she was in, that I had helped cause.

"Hey," I said, closing the door behind me and flipping the lock.

She didn't respond—not that I expected her to. It was time to eat crow.

"I'm sorry I kept that information from you," I started, crossing to the open side of the bed and sitting down. "I'm sorry I hurt you, and I'm sorry your journey has taken this sharp left turn."

Her lips curled, her expression turning sardonic. "Nice lingo. It's perfect for softening the description of the terrible things that happen when taking one of my drugs. It fits here, too." Her smile eroded and her gaze sharpened. "Why did you do it?"

I took off my shoes and turned to lie on the bed, though I was careful not to touch her. "At first, because I hoped you would be less loyal if she had perished."

"Perished. Another nice term."

"Without someone to remain loyal to, I'd hoped you'd be more open to telling me about the organization and your role in it. I didn't care, then, about your pain." Not initially, at any rate. Learning I was hurting my true mate had created other issues. "I needed results, and that seemed like the best way to get them. When you isolate a person, they are easier to control."

She flinched a little. That was what Granny had done to her.

"And when it was clear I was being open about what I knew?" she asked.

I entwined my fingers, looking down at them. "Honestly? I was afraid you'd leave. I was afraid of your reaction—this reaction. I was locked in guilt, as well. I'd held back the information for so long. I didn't know how to tell you the truth."

"But you let me go."

"Yes, knowing you intended to hide yourself from Alexander. I hoped, in turn, you'd stay hidden from Granny. I-I hadn't really been thinking." About anything but losing her, that was. "I knew you were going to force your way out, I knew ultimately you weren't the guilty party, and I knew I couldn't stomach your being punished by the dragons. Letting you go seemed like the best course of action. Shortsighted, probably, because the bottom line was—and still is—that my duty forbids me to allow you to return to her. I can't have you making product for her. The kingdoms can't risk it. Hell, your life would be at stake if you made that decision. There is so much at risk, and it all comes to a head if you go back to working for Granny."

She was quiet for a long time in the wake of my jumbled explanation.

"Hadriel left some time ago," she finally said, "and all I've been doing is thinking. Thinking about the present, about the way you've treated me, about the past..."

I wanted to reach out to her, to touch her and offer her some physical comfort. Or to pull her close to me and soothe her. Maybe even brush the strands of hair away from her wet cheeks. She'd reject it, though. Reject me.

My heart filled with pain. "What about the way I've treated you?"

"I'll get to that. I never really processed Granny's death—well, what I thought was Granny's death. I felt the pain when it was fresh, but I pushed it away to deal with it another time. Then all that stuff came up about my situation, and the journals shed some light on my past, and I pushed that down as well. I've been too busy surviving to reflect."

"Understandable."

"I'll get to that, too. It isn't totally a relief that she is alive because I didn't fully process her death. Her not being in the picture, though, meant I didn't have to fully process my own situation. I have been moving forward, taking each step as it came, dealing with one thing at a time. I've been trying to carve out a new life because there was nothing left of the old one. Now I find out that there is something left of the old life. Knowing Granny is still in the picture makes me feel like I'm doing something gravely wrong. I'm betraying her in the worst possible way, and I know I'd have a serious punishment to go home to. It... scares me. Yes, the punishment itself scares me, but the thought of going back to that life, working intensely long hours in a place where everyone hates me, with no one to talk to..."

She reached up to smooth her hair away from her face before she went on, taking a moment to collect herself.

"What about the organization?" Her voice was faint. "Without Granny in the picture, it would be tearing down a harmful legacy. It would be fixing the wrongs and then mourning her loss. But now?"

She stared at the ceiling.

"Now... it feels like an act of war." She swallowed. "It is ripping her livelihood, however crooked, away from her. It is dismantling what she built in my name."

"She didn't build it in your name."

"She built it with my product and with my packaging design. She built it in my image. My signature is written all over an organization that creates pain and suffering. It can't be allowed to remain, but to go against her is to go against someone I have viewed as a parent. Someone I have loved. Someone I can't help but still love, regardless of how she treated me..." She shook her head. "It can't be helped, and I won't deny it. It is what it is, as Hadriel would say."

I nodded slowly. "The dragon king knows something of pushing back on parents. I can ask him to speak with you. He can probably help with your state of mind."

She huffed and then put her hand to her ribs. "Don't be absurd. I'm a captive and a criminal. A commoner. The dragon king isn't going to speak with me." She shook her head. "I am glad Granny is alive. I know you wish it wasn't true, but I am, and despite all she has done to hurt me, I will do everything in my power to keep it that way. But I can't shake the terrible feeling that I am doing something fundamentally wrong, that a violent punishment is coming, and when I figure out a way to stop that coating, it will be considered a declaration of war. I don't want to do this. I don't want to... travel this journey." Tears leaked out of her eyes. "I wanted her to truly love me and treat me as such. To realize that she probably never did..." She blew out a breath, clearly trying to calm her shaking body. "It's a lot, all of this. Being willing to stand in judgment—to decide to go with you when she is still around—will be seen as a betrayal she will want to kill me for. She does not suffer those who are disloyal."

"When you were on the pier, it was my call to keep you moving. You had no choice at that moment, and you have no choice at this. You will go to stand in judgment. It is beyond your control."

"I could have left."

"You tried. You were... rescued by them and retaken by us. Or you would've died. Either way, they wouldn't have gotten you. This wasn't your fault. It was me and my people."

She turned her head, focusing her gaze on me. "Yes. You and your people."

I braced. Here we go.

"Your people hated everything I stood for, hated me, and yet they treated me with respect. Mostly. I stuck an axe in some of them and they forgave me for it."

"Truthfully, Dante hit you over the head and nearly killed you for that. Then I forced you to share my bed. I hardly think we treated you with the utmost respect."

"I was part of the reason I had to share your bed."

"You're quick to take blame."

Her smile was slight. "A lot of practice, I guess. You were the enemy and you never punished me. You never lifted a finger to your people or had to threaten them to do your bidding. You don't control them with violence."

"That is because I am an alpha."

"I'd thought Granny was an alpha."

"She is. A pretty strong one, actually. She and your product gave me some trouble near that port city. Not all alphas are the same. I lead by example. She's chosen to lead a different way."

"She doesn't have a unified pack like you do."

"She does, it just didn't extend to your village. Her guard and her protection, the people on the perimeter of the village—they were a pack. Not as unified or as connected, no, but they were connected."

"Ah." She looked back to the ceiling and nodded, more tears falling.

I knew what she was thinking—she wasn't privy to that connection because she hadn't thought she'd had magic, something else Granny had been keeping from her.

Unable to help myself, I slid next to her, needing to be closer. Needing to feel the heat of her proximity.

She looked my way, and I drank her in: her beautiful sunburst eyes, glassy with emotion, the black and blue on her cheek, that luscious, heart-shaped mouth, the delicate curve to her neck.

"Do you want me to release your animal?" I asked softly. "I can do it right now. It'll help you heal. It'll make sure you are never alone again."

"Hadriel has told me he will make sure I am never alone again—at least until the dragons kill me. He thought that was a great joke."

I couldn't help but stiffen. I didn't comment. That would never happen. I'd stand against the dragon king if he ever sought to harm her, a battle that would undoubtedly begin as soon as the ship docked.

"It's why I trust him." Her tone was subdued. "He might joke, but he's always been upfront about the situation. You're certain I have magic? An animal?"

"Absolutely certain. I can prove it right now."

She hesitated. "As much as I want that—and I have, my whole life—I want to ask someone with the same magic level as Granny or less. I want them to pull my animal out, or at least tell me I have one."

"Dante, Tanix, Sixten, Nova—they can all do it. They are all strong enough. If you want an alpha, the captain of the ship counts. He is the leader of the ship crew. He has not met you before."

"No," she whispered. "I want to partially travel in my mother's footsteps. I want to walk up to a stranger, like she would have. I'll ask if I am suppressed. I want to look them in the face like I looked at Granny and hope they say yes. And then, finally, assuming they do, I want to experience a dream come true."

She fell silent after that. I could tell she was done talking. She needed time to reflect.

I asked if I could see the note, and she handed it over wordlessly.

Some fucking note.

The last lines sent a rush of rage through me. Granny planned to snatch Aurelia back.

Over my dead fucking body. Literally. That was the only way Granny would get her hands on my true mate again.

I'd make Aurelia want to stay in my kingdom. I'd show her what love could really feel like, what non-blood family could mean. I'd give her unlimited reasons to stay, and end Granny if she didn't leave Aurelia alone.

I just hoped my efforts, the efforts of a man who had never bothered with romance or wooing, could accomplish what I needed to. With my pedigree, I'd never needed romance. Now I'd need to overcome Granny's conditioning while tangoing with the dragons to prevent Aurelia from being thrown in the dungeon.

Easy as pie.

Come morning, I wasn't sure if Aurelia had slept. She'd been awake when I roused in the middle of the night. She hadn't uttered a peep. It killed me to watch her go through this, but she wouldn't accept comfort.

"I want all my journals," she said after breakfast. "Every single one."

I complied, telling Nova to bring them, and then raiding the infirmary for a healing elixir. It would help Aurelia speed up her recovery.

After taking the elixir, she got right into her journals.

For the next three days, she stood along the railing on the deck or sat in our room, a chair pulled up to a little table, not speaking to anyone. Sometimes when I walked by to check on her, she was staring out at the ocean, letting the salty sea air dry wet streaks on her cheeks. Other times, there was anger in her expression.

On the fourth day, after her face had cleared of bruising and her ribs no longer hurt—that elixir was pretty incredible—she stopped me as I passed. The clouds sat heavy above us, gray and forbidding, threatening a storm.

"May I please have something to write with, and something to write on?" she asked, and it was almost as if she was addressing a stranger.

My stomach clenched in unease. "Of course," I said, not showing it.

That and "I need more paper, please" comprised the sum total of her interactions with me. Hadriel and the others didn't fare much better, everyone on the ship cut off as she internalized her situation.

At night she crawled into the sheets, but always with a layer of clothing. She never curled up close to me. She was distancing herself, creating an island of emotion.

The unease within me grew, but her resolve hadn't changed. She would stand in front of the dragon royalty. I had time to bring her around. To crack whatever shell she was erecting around herself.

Fucking Granny. She was the unrelentless bane in so many people's existence.

On the fifth—and what I thought was the last—day, I stood on the deck and looked over the bow. I'd thought we'd have time to connect on the ship, for our wolves to form a bond, and to deepen our knowledge of each other without my duties interrupting. That had not come to pass. I knew as we headed into the kingdom that things would only get more complicated.