3. Nicholas

My dragon and I rarely fought.

While there were tales of shifters and their beasts who didn't get along, they were rare. I couldn't imagine having an awkward or even a combative relationship with your other half. Not a mate but the animal who was part of you, who lived inside you, who was as much you as the human-facing side.

But now he was insisting on finding our mate, and my duty was to find the man grieving over his son's injury. I'd never trusted the idea of a fated mate, preferring to choose a mate myself, one who viewed the world as I did. Dragon shifters were rare compared to wolves and bears, so while I'd like a dragon mate so we could shift, fly, and hunt together, I expected to find my lifelong partner in our kind's packs or dens.

My beast insisting our mate was here was intriguing, but the hospital was filled with many scents, not all of them pleasurable. I doubted our mate was hiding in a patient's room or in an operating theater. Besides, we were here for Damon. I refused to allow a heartbroken man to wait alone for news of his son.

You forget how we sat in a hospital, much the same as this, and waited for news of our omega father. He was human, and like all of their kind, was frail and prone to sickness and injuries. My dad was in a car accident when I was in college, and my alpha father and I waited while he was in surgery. We held hands, not speaking, and the long hours ticked by, second by agonizingly slow second.

Neither of us ate or drank anything. At times, one of us would get up and stare out the window. I couldn't get my head around how people were going about their everyday activities, having fun, going to the movies, or cooking dinner, when my dad's life hung in the balance.

It was a turning point for me and made me appreciate life more and never take anything for granted.

When the doctor emerged, removing his cap as they did in every TV show, my father and I grasped hands and I held my breath, telling myself I wouldn't be able to breathe again if the operation had gone badly.

But Dad had pulled through, though the surgeon said he had a long recovery ahead.

I couldn't imagine going through that experience by myself, so I had to find Damon.

Mate. We can find our mate and then Damon.

The reverse. I wished I could mute my beast, but he was intent on following our mate's scent. I walked to the elevator, my eyes flicking left and right, hoping to find where Damon might be waiting. I glanced back at the nurse's desk. The nurse I'd spoken to was eyeing me, making sure I was leaving. But the phone rang and she answered it, and I breathed a little easier.

The elevator dinged, and I raced in, pushed the first floor button, and stepped out. I experienced a twinge of guilt, thinking someone, just like Damon, might be waiting for the elevator on an upper floor. But I'd done what I had to do, hoping when the nurse looked up, she'd think I'd gone.

Instead, I took off in the opposite direction. My beast was pleased and encouraged me to keep doing what I was doing. As well as hunting for Damon, we were also on the trail of our mate.

Damon first, then mate.

My dragon didn't respond. He would never shift without permission, and he couldn't do it here; he was too big. Besides, the hospital was not a place to terrorize sick humans. His constant sniffing reverberating in my ear was pissing me off, and I wished he'd stop.

"Are you looking for someone?" someone said at my shoulder. Damn, I'd been concentrating on finding Damon, I didn't sense anyone coming up behind me.

Why didn't you alert me?

My dragon harrumphed and muttered that I'd told him to be quiet.

"The bathroom?" There were multiple bathrooms on every floor that were clearly signposted, so I didn't expect my excuse to go over well. I turned to face the guy, an orderly judging by his uniform.

He jerked his head in the direction of the nurses' desk. "Back thatta way. Near the elevator." He looked me up and down, but the seconds were ticking away and I hadn't found Damon.

"Thank you." I took off, hoping he'd think I was desperate for the toilet.

You're going the wrong way,my dragon hissed.

It's just a diversion. The elevator dinged, and I went up to the top floor and back to where I was supposed to be, poking my head out to make sure the orderly wasn't lingering and the nurse wasn't on lookout, and I went down the passageway where I'd been earlier.

I found a waiting room and peered through the glass panel.

A man about my age had his head in his hands, his cheeks shiny with tears.

I'm going in, and I don't want to hear a word about our mate.

Fine.

He wasn't fine, he was peeved, but there was no danger he'd shift.

I eased open the door, not wanting to bound in and scare Damon. He didn't look up as I paced over the floor and stood beside me.

"Damon?"

His head jerked up, and he gulped. He got to his feet, worry etched on his face. "Oh gods, please tell me it's good news." He grabbed me, and his eyes searched mine. He was in the depths of despair worrying about his son.

"It's okay." That was probably the wrong thing to say. "I'm not a doctor. Just a friend."

"Oh, do you volunteer here?" He sank onto the hard plastic chair, immediately standing up again as if he didn't know what he should be doing. My heart hurt for him.

"No." I sat beside him and studied his bloodshot eyes and the teardrops on his eyelashes. Gods, what was wrong with me? The man's son was in surgery and I was admiring his eyes.

My dragon attempted to say something, and I shut him off.

"You called me instead of your friend, Sandy."

"Sorry?" There was no recognition in his eyes. Maybe he'd forgotten about the phone call.

"You called Sandy about coming to the hospital to stay with you while you were waiting."

"Yes?" His brow furrowed. "Is Sandy all right? Please tell me nothing happened to him."

"No. At least not that I know of." This was getting complicated, and I hated how I resented the absent Sandy for his friendship with Damon. "You didn't phone Sandy." I held up the phone and played his recorded message.

"Why do you have my message?" He narrowed his gaze, and I bit my bottom lip, wondering how I'd gotten this so wrong. I'd come to help him and only made things worse and now he was suspicious of me.

"You wanted to call Sandy but you misdialed."

He is?—

Please be quiet, I told my dragon.

He took my phone and stared at the wallpaper, showing my back garden. "So Sandy isn't coming?"

I sensed another flood of tears was coming, so I took his hands and sat him down. "No, but I'm here because I got your message." Maybe I wasn't enough. I was a total stranger and Damon needed a friend. "You can call Sandy now if you want."

"N-N-No," he stammered. "He'll be at work by now." He glanced at me. "And who are you again?"

"Nicholas."

Mate, mate, my dragon intoned.

I wanted to strangle him for interrupting my conversation with Damon.

Enough with the mate. We might find him later.

There's no need. My dragon paused. He is our mate.

Who?

Damon!