Chapter 2 Spreading the Wings
Spreading the Wings
Ernest
Ever since I was little, I would look at a thing and immediately wonder how I could make it fly.
It was almost instinctual. I’d make paper birds and cast them out of my childhood room window before I’d had any idea what aerodynamics was.
When I was allowed to shift unsupervised, I used to take my plane models flying above my parents’ estate.
Once I had been doing some experiments high above the gardens and accidentally dropped a toy copter from a couple of hundred-feet high right in the middle of my dad’s roses.
It had made a crater, and dad had been livid.
I could feel the familiar excitement now, entering the hangar by Sullivan and Burnes’ private runway a few miles south of Ardaine.
Davidson Sullivan walked beside me, somber as usual.
Yesterday at his office, he hadn’t even shown me pictures, let alone models, claiming I needed to see the prototype with my own eyes first. I could sense he was proud of his creation, but you wouldn’t be able to tell based on his stony expression.
Harry Burnes was nowhere to be seen—not that I needed to see him.
Personally, the less interaction I would have with the company’s co-owner, the better.
A couple of technicians in blue coveralls greeted Davidson, and he nodded in response, not even glancing at them. We rounded an indoor crane, and a large, well-lit area appeared in the center of the vast space.
“There it is,” Davidson announced.
The drone was bright yellow with a copter-like silhouette but sleeker and much smaller.
The landing skids seemed sturdy, designed for difficult terrain and changing weather conditions.
According to what Davidson told me, the drone should be able to carry roughly one ton.
My eyes landed on the vertical stabilizer.
Something about the narrow shape wasn’t right.
“What do you think?” Davidson asked.
“I’d have to see it fly.”
He cast me a glance. “Really?” he said dryly.
I smirked. My friend knew me well. “The stabilizer needs adjustments, but I can’t tell you what before I’ve run the tests.”
“So you’re in?”
Walking around the drone, I checked out the blades on the main and tail rotors. “Some optimizations might be achieved with the canopy as well. What results do you expect?”
“I want it stronger and more stable with lower energy usage.”
“Vague and possibly unrealistic.”
“But you’ll do it.” It wasn’t a question.
“How much time do we have?”
“Six months.”
I scoffed. “Impatient, are you?”
“Longwang is about to become the flagship of this company.”
“You named it Longwang?” I laughed. Davidson used to be fascinated by dragon mythology, but for the past few years, the only thing he ever talked about was work. “That’s presumptuous even for you.”
Davidson shrugged one shoulder. “I can name it what I want.”
“I want to see it behave.” Meaning I needed to fly around it, which Davidson understood. “Do you have a site and a technician you can trust?”
“Both. The remote pilot is one of ours. We have run some of our tests in the mountains, in Flannigan’s Valley, which is closed for tourists until April because of flash floods.
I have a deal with the park service. Unless you have any objection to being there at the ass crack of dawn, you can make pirouettes around it if it makes you happy. ”
Shaking my head, I circled the prototype once more.
Davidson had been adamant about the drone being designed for search and rescue specifically.
Harry Burnes predictably suggested plenty of commercial and military uses, which I’d been instructed to ignore.
I wasn’t worried about Burnes too much. From what I’d heard, he was leaving the company and Davidson was negotiating the buyout. He would deal with Burnes if necessary.
I hadn’t yet seen the blueprints or the software, but I was intrigued. Of course I was. The technology was already top-notch, and the Sullivan and Burnes engineering team would be a treat to work with.
“I’ll get the contracts ready,” Davidson said, turning away.
“I haven’t said yes,” I reminded him.
He gave me a bored look over his shoulder. “Are you really going to play hard to get with me?”
Chuckling, I ran a hand along the tail of the sleek drone. It was a beauty, indeed. “I can give you six months. No promises on results.”
“I don’t need any promises. I only want your time.”
Reluctantly, I tore myself away from the small helicopter and followed Davidson out into the sharp sunlight.
His car was parked on the runway behind mine, a smallish young man standing next to it with a tablet in his hands.
His dark hair fluttered in the wind as he typed on the screen, seemingly fully focused on whatever he was writing.
Even at a distance, I recognized the omega I’d met yesterday when I’d gotten caught in the revolving door at headquarters.
Was he Davidson’s personal assistant? Davidson always surrounded himself with beautiful omegas yet treated them with a coldness unusual even for him.
His closest staff rarely lasted longer than mayflies.
This boy seemed less glamorous than his predecessors, but there was something intriguing about him.
The memory of his smile and flustered blush had stayed with me.
“A new assistant?” I asked as we strode over the concrete toward the cars. “Which number is he?”
Davidson wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something bad. “Lawrence has worked for me for over a year.”
Had I been gone from Ardaine for so long again? Huh. “That’s some kind of record, then. What’s his trick?”
“He’s quiet and has a tad more brains than the rest.”
I snorted. “You’re a horrible employer, Davidson.”
My friend turned to me with a self-satisfied smirk. “And yet you’ll work for me again.” Then he spun around and walked toward his car.
The young omega either ignored me or hadn’t recognized me yet—I had a ball cap on and no suit.
He put away his tablet and opened the door for Davidson.
His movements sinuous, he slipped inside the car after Davidson.
He met my gaze momentarily through the lightly tinted glass, a confused frown on his youthful face.
Davidson’s driver backed away a few inches from my car and took off across the runway.
I looked back at the hangar. A couple of men in blue coveralls were pulling a small cart toward a truck while the heavy gate rolled closed behind them.
Yes, I had my doubts—there might not be much room for any significant improvements on the prototype.
Harry Burnes would get on my nerves if he insisted on being involved.
And Davidson could be an arrogant ass for no bigger reason than that he’d slept on the wrong side of the bed.
But the lure of the challenge was too great to resist—Davidson knew me well.
My fingers prickled with restless excitement.
It seemed I’d be staying in Ardaine for the upcoming six months.
My phone beeped just when I was starting the car. I turned it off again and checked the message.
Davidson: Drop by for dinner tomorrow at seven. We’ll look at the contract then.
I typed a quick reply to confirm I’d be there.
We didn’t have to see each other in person.
I was supposed to start working on the prototype after New Year’s, so he could have easily emailed me the contract.
But I suspected the business wasn’t the real reason he wanted me to visit.
Davidson was getting increasingly lonely, yet his ability to communicate any type of feeling or emotional need was zero.
Even so, I’d enjoy spending time with my cranky old friend.
Sullivan’s house looked like a true dragon lair, full of treasures and opulent furniture. My friend was a sentimental man underneath his prickly exterior, but I could never say that to him. He’d rip my head off.
I handed him the signed contract and non-disclosure agreement, and he laid the documents on the antique coffee table.
“Whiskey?” he asked while pouring himself a generous glass.
“I’m good.”
He sank into the leather couch and bent one leg over the other, his black Italian shoes gleaming. His style had always been nothing but impeccable.
“Excited to see Longwang fly?”
“I am. Especially in the valley.”
“Once you’ve been through the blueprints and tested it on the runway, we can take it to the mountains. You’re coming to the gala on New Year’s?”
“If I’m invited.”
Davidson flashed me an irritated scowl. “Of course you’re invited. Why wouldn’t you be?”
We’d had our differences, especially when it came to business.
He had long tried to lure me into accepting a permanent position at his company, but I had no intention of changing my mind.
I’d been a free agent for so long I’d gotten spoiled.
Until I found a mate, which didn’t seem to be happening for me, I would travel as much as I could.
As soon as the current project for Sullivan and Burnes was finished, I’d be leaving Ardaine again.
“I’d love to come,” I said. “Will your new assistant be there?”
“He’ll be helping out with the arrangements, I figure. I didn’t think you liked brunets.”
I shrugged. “He’s intriguing.”
“Lawrence?” Davidson laughed mockingly. “Suit yourself.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to challenge him on his aversion to young omegas, but I refrained.
“What is it with you and globetrotting?” he asked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Aren’t you tired of it?”
“Not yet.”
“Restless youth.”
“I’m only nine years younger than you.”
“Only.” He scoffed. “You still hope to find a true dragon mate, don’t you?”
My humor vanished. “One day, it might happen.”
“Or not.” The cold resignation in Davidson’s voice annoyed me.
He was still single, which was unusual for our kind.
Most dragon alphas found a mate before thirty.
True, it was a little more complicated than dating someone you were moderately compatible with and proposing.
The dragon had to choose, and often it chose when you least expected it.
I’d already hit the age where being unmated got me sympathetic looks from distant relatives.
Davidson’s tragic fate as a lonely, bitter old man wouldn’t be mentioned out loud in polite circles, but compassionate whispers ensued whenever he left the room.
“I can’t stay in one place for too long,” I said. “I get bored.”
“You keep browsing the world for him, and he could be right under your nose.” He eyed his glass and took a mighty gulp.
“Or not,” I threw back at him.
“Anyway, the offer still stands. I’d love to have you as my lead engineer.”
“You have me for six months,” I reminded him. “Not a day longer.”
“We’ll see.”
I merely shook my head, grinning. Davidson was persistent but also knew when it was time to press an issue and when to change the subject.
“Anyway, when you’re back from the conference after New Year’s, we’ll look over the current blueprints and you can meet the team.”
“Sounds good.”
“I have an international call in twenty minutes,” he stated.
So I stood and shook his hand. He poured himself another glass before I was even out of the door.
The empty hallways of the grand mansion echoed with my steps as I walked toward the main door. Such a waste of space. Why so much room for one man?
It bothered me that I was comparing myself to him.
At thirty-six, I was still alone. Would I turn into a Davidson Sullivan one of these days? Drinking whiskey alone in a huge, empty house, sitting on a pile of money—nothing to spend it on—with a reputation of being an irritable and cruel boss?
I wasn’t browsing streets and bars anymore, asking myself, “Could it be him?” with every omega that caught my eye. I wasn’t bitter or sad, and the traveling hadn’t yet lost its appeal. Sometimes, I felt resigned, sometimes hopeful.
Maybe a few months in Ardaine would be good for me. My parents were certainly excited to have me closer for once, and I was curious about the Longwang project. If what Davidson claimed was true, the drone would be revolutionary.
Saturday afternoon, I visited my parents and then I finally went flying.
Above my homeland, the air smelled familiar.
A few raindrops pattered on my skin, cooling my constantly overheated body and swiftly drying off.
I wasn’t a fan of winters in Ardaine. The climate was too warm here—even high up in the mountains, the temperature rarely dropped below zero, and snowfall was unusual.
The drizzle ceased as I circled above the tallest peak in the Cross River National Park.
The two hikers I’d sensed earlier down in the valley were gone by now, so I could stretch my wings properly and gather some speed.
I let the feeling soar through me, that familiar rush of exhilaration I’d been addicted to since I was a little kid.
I dove, rocketing along the mountainside, flying just above the treetops.
A group of elk noticed me, felt me more than saw or smelled me, and they darted away in all directions.
I tilted my wings against the wind coming through the valley and rose again toward the flickering stars.
The clouds had parted, revealing a thin sliver of the moon.
I landed on a sharp peak, balancing atop the rock precariously. All alone on top of the world once again. When would I ever be able to share this with anyone? I used to fly with my parents as a teen, then sometimes with my brothers, but now they all had their own families.
In the distance, Ardaine glowed above the horizon, a misty orange dome of light. I should go back. It was late, and the drive was two hours at least.
Waving my wings with maximum power, I ascended one last time, then dove in a spiral toward my car, hidden in a small clearing behind the official National Park parking place.
In December, the park was deserted at night, and even if someone were to wander around this late, I’d sense them long before they could hear or see me.
Like those hikers earlier. At first, they had startled me, but they’d been too far away, and it had been twilight already, so there was no chance they’d seen anything.
That was why I always shifted and flew only after sunset, at least here so close to Ardaine.
Without direct sunlight and in flight, I was invisible to human eyes.
I landed in the clearing with a thwack, my tail smacking into a stump. Ouch. I shifted immediately, rubbing my tailbone as I went to the car to retrieve my clothes. It’d be just a minor bruise.