Chapter 4
Emmett
I waved the gold-dusted fruit chunks in front of Melantha, trying to coax her into shifting. “Come on, sweetheart. Just a little human form for Daddy?”
Green scales with bronze shimmer, just like her egg, my daughter was a ball of restless energy. Still tiny, but so fast. Her little wings flapped behind her uselessly as she launched herself toward me. She lunged for the treat with her snout, nearly knocking the plate out of my hand.
My shoulders slumped. Eight months old, and still no sign of her human side. That wasn’t good. Most dragonlets showed their other form by now. If they didn’t by their first birthday, it meant they didn’t have a human side at all. No human side meant no human brain.
Back in the old days, it wouldn’t have been that bad.
Sure, it would’ve been unfortunate that one couldn’t enjoy the company of their offspring as a human, but a dragon who couldn’t shift could still make a living terrorizing villages, hoarding treasure, and generally being a menace to the world.
But as humans became the dominant species, the ability to shift and walk amongst them when need be became a necessity.
Humans ran the world, and dragons who didn’t have the intelligence of one would be at a mortal disadvantage.
In fact, while I knew that reversion to our more primitive forms existed, I didn’t actually know of any hatching in the last few centuries—and the older ones are now long gone—unable to hide as humans grew in numbers and spread across the world’s continents.
The last one I knew of died a while ago somewhere in Antarctica, with nowhere else to go.
Was it because none had hatched, or had the parents culled them to save them the eventual tragedy of being hunted by humans?
It wasn’t just the humans either, but other dragons as well.
We were a territorial bunch, and it was rather common to use angry mobs of humans against each other.
Before the age of video, a dragon was a dragon; it didn’t matter that the one that lay siege on a village had been blue when the one they were hunting was green.
It was the reason why I’d claimed my little sliver of home here in the snowy peaks and verdant valleys of the Canadian Rockies.
Even now, in a world bursting with humans, it afforded a level of privacy I preferred.
My demesnes spanned up and down the range, bounded to the north by the Arctic Circle—that had been claimed by another dragon—and to the south by the American border.
Humans were territorial too. But I’d been around long enough to know that these lines moved over the centuries and didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.
It was the beings and things inside the lines that mattered, and moving a line does not change the fealty of those within.
The resources, however, were a different story.
And unlike my brother, who had many intelligent creatures living under his wing, both magical and not, my land boasted many natural resources but few people.
Or at least it had until very recently. A small town, filled with magical beings and monsters, had congregated right under my wing in recent years.
I wasn’t quite sure what I planned to do about them.
I came to the mountains seeking privacy and refuge.
But alas, as it often happened with dragons throughout the ages, humans expanded into my range.
My fortress home rose from the mountainside, its stone walls blending into the jagged peaks of the Rockies from afar.
I’d switched out the old balistraria in several of the rooms for floor-to-ceiling windows that flooded the interior with natural light while offering breathtaking views of the valley below.
Inside, the decor was a mix of rugged luxury and modern amenities, favoring heavy wood furniture, leather upholstery, thick wooden beams supporting the vaulted ceilings, and a massive stone fireplace.
Except currently, every flammable inch of the estate was covered in a fire-retardant spell, magically reinforced to survive a fire-breathing toddler.
The curtains had been the first casualty.
Melantha had reduced three sets to ash before we gave up and replaced them with fireproof fabric that looked more suitable for a military camp than a dragon’s home.
Even the rugs were treated with a magic spray that made them resistant to flames, though they still bore scorch marks from her early experiments.
Fire extinguishers hung in every room, and her nursery had been outfitted with a sprinkler system that activated at the first hint of smoke.
Still, no amount of preparation could fully contain the chaos of an angry dragonlet determined to test her limits.
The longer she stayed in her dragon form, the more often her tantrums, and I wasn’t sure we could stay here much longer. I could move her to my cave, but without the human objects around her, I worried it might seal her fate.
I tried to entice Melantha to shift again, holding out the pastel-pink plastic plate decorated in hearts. But this time, I growled at her in dragon tongue. Melantha, look. You want this, don’t you? Just show me your human side. Just your hands.
She blinked, her amber eyes not giving away whether she had a human side or not as she snatched at the plate again with her baby dragon teeth, tail lashing in frustration. I sighed.
For the last few months, I’d tried everything: only spending time with her in my human form, bribing her with treats and toys, even shifting back and forth in front of her to show her how it was done. Nothing worked.
I refused to believe my baby had no human form. From my research, it was most likely because she didn’t feel safe enough to shift. It made sense; the human form was weak and had no innate weaponry or armor.
After Gillisandra, Melly’s mother, had lost her bet to Desmon, she’d abandoned her egg at the base of a cliff. She’d probably expected it to be eaten by wild animals or destroyed by the elements. Instead, it had ended up being passed from hand to hand in the underground magical artifact trade.
I hadn’t known about the egg at the time, since the conniving wench had tricked me, stealing my seed so she wouldn’t need to contract me for a baby. As a result, I hadn’t been able to protect her. Had the trauma locked her dragon form in place?
I’d been so hopeful when Meera and Graham visited.
Meera had cared for Melantha’s egg after stealing it from her ex-fiancé.
She’d kept it safe and alive as she and Graham made their way from New York to Darlington.
The two had been surprised to see Melantha as a dragon and not a baby, but had accepted her nonetheless.
Melantha had reacted well to them too, to Meera especially, clinging to her like a lifeline, her chest rumbling in the way little dragons did when they were content. But even with Meera’s gentle coaxing, she didn’t shift.
But every day that passed without a shift felt like a countdown. And I was running out of time.
The door opened, and Luella stepped inside, her posture straight, her expression carefully neutral. “It’s time for Melantha’s bath.”
Luella was my personal wizard’s daughter.
In her early twenties, she had been spending more time here ever since she finished her schooling.
It had been her father, Leroy, who first suggested she help care for Melantha.
I’d preferred Elana, but when the other witch failed to contact me after the gala, I’d relented.
Luella had been eager at first, but that enthusiasm had dimmed quickly. She’d expected a human-shaped child at least some of the time, not a full-time dragon with claws and fire. As it was, she had to be protected by a fire and heat-proof magical shield at all times.
Still, she did the work.
I nodded, passing over my daughter. “Thank you.”
Luella paused before leaving, her fingers brushing my shoulder. She stood just a little too close, and the cloying scent of her perfume permeated the space between us. She reached for me, her hand on my arm. I stiffened before shrugging her off, not liking being touched without warning.
“You’re so tense, my lord.” Her voice dropped lower. “Maybe I can draw you a bath first. A soak and some oil for your wings will help.”
I frowned internally at the suggestion. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was trying to come on to me. But the girl was young and always trying to please, so I was probably just reading into it.
“No need. Nothing a flight can’t fix.”
When the door clicked shut behind them, I exhaled and rubbed my temples. The silence was a relief, but it didn’t last.
My thoughts turned to Elana. Now there was a woman I wouldn’t mind spending some alone time with. Her, and a bottle of my favorite wing oil. I shook my head. Now where had that idea come from?
Four months ago, at the gala, I hadn’t started to worry about Mellie’s human side yet.
If I’d known she’d still be a dragon now, I’d have tried a lot harder to get the experienced female to be her governess.
Rumor was that Seth had set the house on fire plenty of times as a child when he was still learning how to control his magic.
Plus, Elana had lived at Desmon’s estate for a long time. She was used to dealing with dragons.
I should’ve spent that night at the gala making her an offer she couldn’t refuse: irresistible terms, outstanding pay, anything to secure her. Instead, I’d wasted our time alone on that balcony dancing with her, letting the moment distract me from what mattered.
I shook my head. No. I refused to call that dance a waste. I’d enjoyed every moment with her thoroughly.
But I’d squandered my chance. And now? Now I was running out of time.
And there wasn’t anyone for me to speak to about this.
My sire had passed long ago, and I’d never known my mother.
The demoness my sire had tasked to help raise me was gone too, bored with playing maid.
I didn’t trust any of the other dragons; dragons rarely helped each other unless there was something in it for themselves. All I had were old records and hearsay.
And one brother. One brother who had plenty of opportunity to wipe me from existence should he truly wish. A brother who had a mate who would care.
Perhaps it was time to pay the only other kin I had another visit.