Darian （SPLIT）
“You’re allowed to cry,” he said, pulling her closer. She buried her face in his chest and began to cry harder, sobs wracking her whole body.
Darian rubbed circles on her back. As much as he hated to see her like this, something inside him felt an innate sense of rightness with her in his arms.
This was where she belonged.
He shook off the thought. He shouldn’t be thinking that while she cried over the loss of the man she loved…but he couldn’t help it. She fit into his arms like she was made for them.
After a few minutes, she sniffled and straightened, wiping her face and looking at the wet spot she had left on his tunic.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Anytime,” he said, already regretting the loss of her in his arms. “You’re the only woman allowed to cry all over me.”
She sniffled, but the corner of her mouth almost turned up, and he tried not to take that as a personal triumph. “I shall reserve my best tunics for your tears,” he added.
“Not the best ones,” she said.
He shrugged. “Tears will dry.” He offered his hand, but she ignored it, striding off toward home determinedly.
Darian tried not to grin as he followed her.
If she wanted to pretend that moment had never happened, he could pretend.
But he wouldn’t forget.
And if he had to guess, she wouldn’t, either.
Perhaps it was wrong of him to treasure that moment, but until he could continue to break down her walls and convince her to give him a chance, he would.
As they walked, he reached down to pick a few flowers for her, and when they arrived at her home, he presented the small bouquet.
“Please accept my apology,” he said. “I never meant to make you cry or ask such an invasive question. I will endeavor to control my impulsivity better.”
She took the flowers from his hand. “I accept your apology,” she said, before turning to survey her home.
“It’s still standing? I wasn’t sure it would be,” Darian joked. “You did leave them for uncommonly long.”
“I don’t leave them. I only leave them to go to town when I need to,” she said. There was a bite to her words that hadn’t been there before.
“I know,” he said quickly. “I was only teasing.”
She stared at him for a moment before nodding and opening her front door.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever understand her.
Darian followed after her, both surprised and excited to see that the pen he’d fixed for the baby dragons had worked this time. There were no new scorch marks in the house, which he was going to consider a win.
Celia opened the pen and Sizzle and Spark launched themselves into the air, Sizzle settling to the ground shortly after, while Spark perched himself on the tall bed. Celia lifted Flame out, the tiny dragon leaning into Celia’s touch like she belonged there.
I thought you would never come back, Spark exclaimed.
Celia looked at Darian. “He thought we would never come back,” he translated.
“I wasn’t gone long,” she told him.
Flame chirped up, quiet compared to her brother. “She’s telling him that you had something important to do,” Darian translated, “because seeing me was so important.”
Celia gave him a withering glare.
“Where’s my baby?” he asked, looking around until he spotted Sod’s basket. As he approached, Sod stood, stretching his wings. “How is the leg?” he asked Sod.
She keeps making me stretch it, the baby said. I’m very grumpy.
“It’s good for you,” he told him. “You know she’s only trying to help.”
I don’t need help, Sod said, pouting.
“Come on, we’re gonna go outside and walk,” Darian said. “Come with me, all of you.” He led the way to the door and watched as all four baby dragons made their way out before following them into the sunshine.
Celia stood in the doorway, leaning against it and watching as he led them in a game of tag.
Every time he looked up, the smile on her face had grown slightly bigger, so he threw even more theatrics into the game, tackling Spark, gently tossing Flame into the air while she flapped her wings, and catching her again before she hit the ground.
Celia’s smile was the best thing he’d ever seen.
I think you two are mates, Spark said, looking between him and Celia.
What?
“Oh, no, we’re not mates,” Darian said, aware of Celia’s gaze on him. It was a good thing they were far enough away that she probably couldn’t hear him. He didn’t need her asking what Spark was saying—he had no doubt that she would take offense to it. “Let’s keep playing.”
Spark blew a fireball in Celia’s direction. You have a spark, and she has a spark for you. I can see it.
Darian looked at Celia, wondering if the dragons were right, if they saw something that he couldn’t.
“I don’t think so,” he said.
I know, the dragon said smugly. You two have a spark.
You do, Flame chirped up.
Darian sighed. If the dragons wanted to insist that they had a spark, he wouldn’t try to change their mind. But he certainly wasn’t going to tell Celia that.
She wasn’t ready to hear it, whether it was nonsense or not—even if something inside him agreed with the dragon. There was something between him and Celia that felt different and unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
Time for a subject change.
“You’re it,” he said, tapping Spark on the head and running away as the young dragon gave chase.
There was nothing like being hit in the back by a hatchling that weighed more than a dog, hurtling through the air into you. He stumbled, catching himself with his hands instead of landing face-first in the grass.
You’re slow, the baby dragon trilled smugly.
“You’re not supposed to knock me over.”
You should move faster.
Be careful, Flame told her older brother. Don’t hurt the Emberlin.
Darian looked at Flame, his eyes narrowing. “How do you know my last name?”
The baby dragon shrugged as much as a dragon could.
Darian glanced toward the doorway, but Celia was gone. Did she even know his last name to share it with them? She always called him Darian, so why did Flame use his last name as if it was a title?
“What does it mean?” he asked.
The baby dragon spat out a tiny flame. It means you are the Emberlin.
Well, that didn’t explain anything.
“Thank you for the help,” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone.
If the dragons picked up on it, they didn’t say anything. She needs your help, you know, Flame said.
Darian glanced from Flame to Sizzle and Spark, who were nodding sagely.
“She doesn’t really need me.” He shook his head. Celia had showed over and over again that she didn’t need him.
Yes, she does, Flame said. She doesn’t know it, but she needs you. She’s too alone.
“Well, aren’t you a wise little thing?” Darian asked, his mind churning. How did they know that Celia needed him? They were babies.
She’s better when you’re here, Spark said, and Sizzle nodded.
He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that, but he couldn’t help agreeing with them. She did seem better when he was there—not that he had any idea what she was like without him, but he knew there was something about her that came alive when she started disagreeing with him.
Maybe it had something to do with the spark that Spark had pointed out, or maybe Spark was simply pointing it out because it was his name; he had no way of knowing.
Baby dragons didn’t seem like the most trustworthy informants.
“I have no intention of leaving,” he told the babies. “Well, I have every intention of coming back,” he amended. “I do have to go home soon, but I wanted to make sure she made it home safely first.”
Because you are a good mate, Spark said, humming in satisfaction.
“I’m a good mate,” Darian mumbled to himself. The idea of Celia being his mate felt both confusing and absolutely right.
Celia appeared in the doorway of her home again, and something flared to life inside his chest at the sight of her.
Maybe the hatchlings were right. Maybe there was something special about this, something more than normal, because this certainly felt like more than he would expect.
He’d had a few crushes in his teenage years, and they hadn’t felt anything like this.
And if the baby dragons knew his name, perhaps there was more to the story than his uncles had told him–or more than they even knew themselves.
Whatever the truth was, he wanted to discover it with Celia.
And that didn’t scare him nearly as much as it should have.