Chapter Four

Magnus

I plopped my black card down on the stack of designer suits, eyeing the jewelry case at the last minute. My dragon could not resist more gold for the hoard. My safe deposit boxes were full, but he nudged me into another watch and diamond ring.

When was enough enough?

He had been close to the surface and bossy for several months. I took him out more often to the private woods my clutch owned. It didn’t help. He’d stretch his wings for about five minutes then hang out on his favorite craggy perch and stare toward the west for hours. Once, he flew too far out of the shifter safety range. I’d yelled in our mind to turn back six or eight times before he circled, landing in a clearing and forcing me to walk, naked, back to the changing booth where I’d left my clothes.

“The clutch could imprison us if they found out how far you flew,” I’d muttered. “What did you think you were doing?”

Day after day, his constant surfacing presence affected my sleep. I got headaches when I’d never suffered them before. I worried things might get worse, that he might try to force shifts at inappropriate moments. Shifters who could not control their inner beasts to the point of endangering the secrecy of their communities and other inappropriate behavior could be hospitalized or, worse, caged.

Today, I thought a bit of shopping would take the edge off both of us. When I got my packages home to my penthouse suite, I dumped everything on my bed. It was all just stuff. How many more suits did I need? How many more watches?

I walked into my living room. The huge windows overlooked the city which was just lighting up for the night. So many colored lights mixed to create an aurora of beauty I was privileged to see. I loved it.

I grabbed a wineglass and filled it to nearly overflowing. As I sat on my couch to appreciate all that I had, the inner restlessness continued.

I took a few gulps. It was the finest vintage. I had no complaints. Yet, discontent surged.

“What is it?” I asked.

Nothing.

If only he would communicate more. I knew shifters who had entire telepathic conversations with their inner dragons. Not me.

As the last of the daylight slipped away to the west, I leaned back on my couch and closed my eyes. Everything. I had everything.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. I didn’t have a mate.

As soon as the word mate passed through my mind, I saw an image of Ayelet. The gazelle. It had been three years since our one-night stand. I’d had many since but nothing long-term. He was the one I never forgot.

The one.

My dragon came suddenly awake. I opened my eyes to pink dragon vision.

“Maybe,” I said to my dragon. “He was a keeper. But the one? I thought we were waiting for our omega to show up some day?”

Go back.

“Go back where?”

Go back.

Ayelet had been visiting San Diego just like I had the night of our beautiful encounter. Going back made no sense. He lived in New Mexico. He wouldn’t be in San Diego, and I had no idea how to contact him.

I ordered a steak dinner and turned on a movie. The pink filter on my vision would not go away. I couldn’t concentrate on the movie. I kept reliving images of my night with Ayelet until I was aroused and frustrated.

That night, I dreamed of San Diego. It was so vivid, I woke to the scent of the salty Pacific lingering in the room. The downtown skyline over the harbor flashed in my mind. Images of jacaranda, eucalyptus, and palm swayed before my eyes.

I sat up and looked at my bedside clock. Five a.m. Too early to start the day. But then again, who did I have to answer to but myself? I was in a position to do as I pleased. Work as much as I wanted. Live where I wished.

San Diego had been wonderful. It was where I’d left a crucial memory, a gazelle shifter I could not forget. Why not go there? I could rent a hotel penthouse suite and see where that path led. At the very least, it might appease my dragon and stop the headaches.

It was just before dawn when I booked my flight. The pressure from my dragon immediately eased.

I didn’t understand it, nor did I question it, but I had a knack for picking the winners. My dragon instinct told me when to buy and when to sell. Impulse action had been the very cornerstone of why I was successful in investment and grew my hoard so quickly. Why should my personal life be different?

If I had fantastic luck with money, it was not so with my love life. All this time, I’d been waiting for my mate to come to me instead of going out and finding him for myself. That wasn’t the way my powers—if instinct could be called that—worked.

I spent a couple of hours packing. I needed only the essentials from my penthouse. Anything else I could buy in San Diego.

Then I called a car to take me to the airport. On the way, I called James.

“I’m going to San Diego for about a month.”

“When?”

“Today.”

“What?”

“It’s no big deal. We can work long-distance,” I said. “I can look for more investments.”

“True. But this is a bombshell. Why San Diego? And why didn’t you let me know before now? I would have thrown you an awesome bon voyage party.”

“It’s something I have to do, and it can’t wait.”

“What about your penthouse?” he asked.

“What about it?”

“Are you subleasing it?”

“No. I’ll be back.”

“But why San Diego?”

“It’s a beautiful place. Why not San Diego?”

He grumbled and hummed “Can’t fault that logic. You’re right that real estate there is prime. We’ve done some great deals and own some wonderful properties out there. That huge condo complex we went in on three years ago with Hiller Investments is paying huge and has doubled in value.”

That was the very deal we’d made the night I’d met Ayelet. The fact that he brought it up right this moment sealed my determination.

“I’ll call when I get there and settled.”

“Hell, yeah. I’d love to make some more investments out West.”

No doubts now. This was the right move for me.