Chapter 12

Chardum

My mate was turning out to be more reluctant to everything than I had hoped for, and with the scent of that strange vampire at the site up on the cliffs, I was plagued with a sense of urgency. Each day, we worked together on fixing up the farmhouse. I’d already been back in town to pick up a working fridge and more food once.

I’d refinished the porch, and I’d helped a shockingly aged Ted to install a water heater so that my mate could finally have hot showers again. Every time she’d complained about the lack of warm water, I’d offered to heat some for her, a simple task for a fire-breathing dragon. She had declined each time, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long until she’d let me kiss her again. She just needed to figure out that this attraction between us was as inevitable as the tides.

“I’ve checked the entire roof,” I said when I leaped down from where I’d been perched to land on the ground next to where she was working on the flower beds in front of the house. Already the roses had recovered and were growing green and bright against the balustrade. She was carefully pruning away unwanted and old growth and had been gently murmuring at the plants for the past half hour while I inspected the slate tiles that covered the house.

She jumped, tumbling back on her luscious behind, and shot me an adorable little glare. “It’s on you if the roof starts leaking when it rains again,” she warned and I shrugged, certain that it wouldn’t. The building had weathered, and the porch had fared the worst, but many of the protections still held fast. This house wouldn’t leak, ever.

The exterior needed a good lick of paint to look pretty again, which was the next task I wanted to tackle. But I wanted to get my mate to practice her skills as well. She worked with plants every day, but it was never more than some very gentle encouragement or enriching of the soil. If she were to have my back when it came to protecting these lands, she needed to be able to do more than grow a few flowers.

“Come with me,” I said, holding out my hand to help her to her feet. She gazed at it for a long, heart-stopping moment. Was she going to take it? Or was she going to avoid touching me like she had for three days straight? I’d spooked her when I showed her my dragon form, not with the dragon part of me, but with all the passion I felt for her. Or maybe she’d gotten spooked by how strongly she responded to me.

I’d taken the news of Zachary’s death, and Rosy’s explanation that she had never even met him. I’d put it all away; my confusion, my pain at hearing that my friend had not escaped the curse after all. Because I knew that nothing short of extraordinary magic would have kept him from his child and his heart. My focus could only be on my mate and the danger possibly lurking in town.

Each night, I pretended I went to sleep in the sleeping bag while she curled up on the bed above me. Each night, I’d rise again, unable to rest after slumbering for years, and find other tasks to occupy myself. I needed to distract myself from the urge to climb those stairs and join my Rosy in her bed.

I thought she was going to ignore my hand, stubbornly clinging to this distance between us. Only she surprised me by grabbing on just as I started pulling back. “Where do you want to go?” she asked, rising to her feet. When she didn’t pull her fingers from my grip, I started guiding her to where I wanted her to go.

“The vegetable garden, you’ve got a cliff to restore.” Of course, she spluttered in surprise behind me, but I tightened my grip on her fingers and forced her to keep up. I gave her space to adjust to her new reality, but we couldn’t afford to wait much longer. I’d spoken with Lizzie, heard of the corporation that was trying to move in on Rosy’s land, and the vampire lawyer that handled it all. As long as the blood drinker kept visiting, we needed to be vigilant. There was nothing here except what I was tasked to guard that could be of any interest.

I stopped my mate at the center of the overgrown remains of the garden. She hadn’t been here yet to work on things, having focused instead on the roses out front and the plants indoors. I suspected that she forced herself to stay away from the yard work and focus instead on the endless tasks inside.

Pointing her toward the collapse, I gestured with my hand, “You can rebuild that cliff, push all that earth back in place, and shore it up so it doesn’t fall again. I know you can do this.” She huffed with disbelief, but when I urged her to close her eyes, she obeyed without question. She might have withdrawn physically, but I had no doubt that she’d lost all distrust of me. I considered it a triumph that she didn’t even question that I stayed with her at the house.

I stepped behind her and cupped her shoulders, “Listen to my voice. Feel the heat of my hands. Let it travel down your body, down into the earth. Can you do that for me, my sweet?” It was a battle not to step even closer, to press her body against my own. I needed her to do this, to prove to herself that she could do things she deemed impossible.

Her breathing shuddered, her body at first tense. I could see that she turned her head, her eyes briefly opening to glare at a barrel-sized rock lying not far from us. The very rock she’d yanked from my prison the first night here, with it breaking the curse that kept me trapped. When she closed her eyes again, she was more settled, her breathing evening out.

I waited, patience settling over me as I kept her anchored. My senses attuned to everything around me, guarding her as she worked, her earth magic unfurling, tentatively filtering into the ground beneath us. I knew she’d know what to do if only she stood still long enough to try. I was not surprised when rocks rolled, earth slid, and like spooling back time, the cliff started to come back together.

Rosemary opened her eyes when the last rock settled back in place, a shocked gasp escaping. Then she swayed and started to collapse.