Chapter Twenty-five

NATE

The hurt in Alex's voice had been unmistakable, and I didn't know how I could put this right when I couldn't tell him what was going on. If it ever came to light that an outsider knew, James Fortescue's rage would know no bounds.

For now, I had to focus on Charlie. He was huddled in my bed, clutching the duvet around himself, complaining he was cold.

"How long have you been using?"

"What's it to do with you?"

"Charlie." I had to get through to him. "If your father finds out, what do you think he'll do?"

"He won't kill me, if that's what you're thinking. I'm the oldest son, after all."

One who evidently didn't know he was about to be disinherited.

"Are you sure about that? What if he thought other dragons would find out, meaning your entire family would be disgraced?"

Charlie licked his lips. He'd been doing that on and off since he'd started coming down, but this time he looked nervous.

"I think he'll have you institutionalised in one of those discreet facilities run by dragons for dragons, and you'll never see daylight again. That way, he'd feel he's done right by you while ensuring you don't expose us to the world or ruin your family."

"I'll have to make sure he doesn't find out then, won't I?"

"How long do you think that'll be the case? You're doing it in his house, for God's sake. Wouldn't it be easier to stop? Problem solved."

He looked down and started picking at a loose thread on the duvet cover.

"Are you addicted?"

His picking grew more forceful until he tore the thread he'd been fiddling with. "Not to the drug, if that's what you mean. But to the high—" He looked up at me, defiant and ashamed. "Yes."

"Oh, God, Charlie." I sat beside him. "Wouldn't it have been easier to have taken up bungee jumping?"

"I just want to feel something again. I want to feel good again." His voice was raw.

He leaned against me while I thought. This was way out of my league. The only thing I knew for sure was that his father must never find out.

"Will you go to rehab?" I asked at last.

He was silent for a long time. "If it means I'm not locked up for the rest of my life, then I suppose so."

From the little I knew, if someone didn't want to go to rehab, it was unlikely to be successful. But what choice did we have?

"I'll call places in the morning," I told him. "In the meantime, stay here."

"Why, Nate, if you wanted me in your bed, all you had to do was say so." It was a faint, shaky attempt, and I wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not. Then he licked his lips again. "Have I fucked things up for you with that Cornish dragon?"

He knew?

"Yeah, I know. Pretty hard to miss when I know you so well." He lay down, pulling the duvet over his shoulders.

"Is doing coke the same for a dragon as for a human?" My priorities were wrong, but I was curious. Dragon physiology appears identical to human, but we heal much faster than they do, and we can breathe smoke even in human form. No dragon scientist or doctor had ever produced an explanation for that, so far as I was aware.

"I just burn through it quicker," Charlie said. "Which sucks, by the way."

"Do you have any stuff in the house?" I asked. "Is there anything we need to get rid of before someone finds it."

"Nah." He yawned. "Stevie only gives me as much as I need in one night."

"Your brother's been getting it for you?"

He didn't answer. I guess he didn't need to.

*

That night went on forever. Charlie didn't sleep for hours and made so many trips to the bathroom at the end of the landing that we probably kept everyone on our floor awake. I went with him every time. I didn't trust he'd come back to my room if I didn't.

He grew clingy. He wanted physical contact, though there was no sexual intent in it.

Once he'd fallen asleep, I didn't dare do the same in case he woke up and left. I sat on the floor, my back to the door, and searched for rehab centres. I almost laughed in incredulous relief when I found three clinics run by dragons. Of course, they didn't advertise themselves that way, but there are internationally recognised code words.

Drug rehab for dragons went against everything I knew, but I'd learned from Alex that some of the things I'd thought to be universal among dragons weren't. Perhaps not all dragons were as zero-tolerance about drugs as the circles Charlie and I moved in. Perhaps, though it seemed improbable, some were compassionate. Not something I'd accuse either my family or the Fortescues of being.

One clinic was in Monte Carlo, one in L.A., and the other outside Munich. All were hellishly expensive, though that wouldn't impede Charlie.

Once I had their numbers, ready to call in the morning, I thought about Steven. It wasn't enough that he was about to take over from Charlie. He wanted to eliminate the competition altogether. He had to be the most cold-blooded bastard I'd ever met. And remembering who my grandfather was, that was saying a lot.

Struggling to keep my eyes open in the dawn light, I spent a long time composing a text to Alex, overthinking every word. I told him I might have to go away and that I'd explain as much as I could when I returned. I didn't know what else to say, but I knew something more was needed. He'd trusted me, even after what he thought he'd walked in on. But I mustn't be clingy.

You're really special to me, I sent finally, and spent the rest of the night worrying that I'd said too much.

ALEX

You're really special to me. What the hell did that mean? It was the sort of phrase usually followed by a ‘but'. You're really special to me, but I've got a boyfriend at home. But I'm only here on holiday. But we're from different worlds.

Yet it was the first time he'd said anything like that to me. I kept swinging between putting the worst possible interpretation on it and hoping it was his way of saying that he felt as strongly as I did.

I was still obsessing over the text's possible meanings when a new one came in. Leaving Bath today. Hopefully back tomorrow.

Thankfully, Margaret found me before I spiralled into a complete meltdown over the lack of information. "I've been neglecting your education," she informed me. "Come for a walk."

We found our way to a large park, where she took me through her thought processes from the time she'd received James Fortescue's invitation. She recounted in detail some of their conversations and explained why she'd responded in the ways she had.

"You'll have your own style, but tenets of diplomacy are universal," she said, proceeding to expound on them at length.

On any other day, I'd have been fascinated. Today, when I was already unsettled and unsure, it felt as if she was piling on more uncertainty by reminding me that, one day, she and my parents would be gone. Everything would fall on my shoulders—the burden of leadership, of keeping my family safe.

It all felt too much, especially when there was no further word from Nate.

NATE

Charlie had been adamant that Monte Carlo was too close to one of his family's houses, and we hadn't been able to raise anyone in L.A. because of time zones. When the centre in Munich had said they could take him immediately, he'd decided that was where he was going. That was reasonable, I supposed. It wasn't as if either of us knew enough about rehab to be able to make sensible comparisons between the types of therapy they offered. The most important thing was to get Charlie there quickly, while he was still cowed by the threat of his father finding out about his little habit.

"We'll have to fly commercial," Charlie said, with a distinct wrinkle of his nose. "Dad will be notified of any flight plans filed."

On the way to City Airport, we stopped at my flat. Our flight wasn't until late afternoon, and we'd both wanted to leave Bath early that morning. I didn't know where else to go. Spending time at a coffee shop or a pub somewhere felt too uncontrolled. I wanted to keep Charlie corralled.

Evidently, I wasn't subtle in my concerns.

"I'm not a bloody junkie about to run off to find a fix," he told me as I gestured to him to precede me into my flat.

Inside, he looked around curiously. The place was on the sterile side. I'd bought it and furnished it just after our break-up when I hadn't cared about anything, and I'd never cared enough since to do anything with it. I'd spent more time choosing the safe for my treasure than I had deciding the style and colour of the furniture.

He made a coffee while I opened my safe to check on my treasure. When he peered over my shoulder, I had to fight my dragon's impulse to attack him, to drive him away from my diamonds.

"I see you've amassed quite a few," he said, very sensibly making no move to touch any of them. "You should get Ella to give you Granny's old necklace. The centrepiece is fifteen carats." That explained why it captivated me.

I drew out one of my favourites and stroked it before carefully placing it back on its nest of black velvet. Treasure is fundamental for a dragon, and I thought how strange it must be for Alex not to have one. We're born knowing what our treasure is, along with a driving need for it. Mum used to tell me how I kept trying to pull her favourite diamond earrings out of her ears when I was a toddler.

Treasure can be intensely private or something to flaunt. For me, it's deeply personal. Perhaps because it had been something to hold onto after my parents had gone, something that was solely mine. I hadn't even told Charlie what it was, though he'd found out when we'd lived together. To feel so comfortable with Alex that I'd simply told him… He was different from anyone I'd ever known.

While we had our coffee, I sent him another text. I couldn't tell him anything, but I wanted him to know I was thinking of him. Missing you x. And it was true.

ALEX

Lecture hour over, our conversation moved on to Rose and Dan, and a couple of other prospective Teague-Fortescue pairings. "At least something might come out of this whole visit," Margaret said. "Oh, thank God—a bench. I don't know how it is I can hike forever in the countryside yet half a mile in the city is exhausting."

An elderly couple on the next bench were being mobbed by pigeons. Not a single one came near us. Funny how easily animals can detect our dragons.

My phone vibrated with a message from Nate. Missing you. And a kiss. I still had questions for him—so many questions—but that steadied me a bit.

Thoughts of Nate led me to realise I should warn Margaret something was going on. I told her everything I knew, except the part where I'd found Nate half-naked in his room with Charlie. I didn't want to keep thinking about that.

"That whole family is a mess," she said, when I finished. "I'm almost minded to invite Ella to stay with us to get her away from them." She turned her penetrating gaze on me. "And why is Nate Mortimer so involved in the Fortescue mess? I understand he and Charlie were a long-term thing but broke up a while back."

"They did." I couldn't respond to her question because I didn't know the answer. Why was Nate involved in solving whatever Charlie's problem was? He'd so easily chosen Charlie over me. My throat ached, suddenly.

Margaret put her hand on my knee. "Darling, he's a Mortimer. They're the same as the Fortescues, only richer. Abimelech Mortimer didn't get where he is by caring about others. I know you think Nate's the best thing since Excalibur, but he's of their world, with all that goes with that."

Precisely what I didn't need reminding of.