Chapter 5 Dragons Are Real
Dragons Are Real
Ansel
Pascal, if that was his name, wrapped the blanket I’d given him tighter around his shoulders and looked around my humble, musty-smelling refuge.
“The cabin’s cozy. It’s yours?”
“Granddad left it to me.”
I shoved another log further into the stove and closed the door. I adjusted the ledger to get more air into the fire, and the stove hummed. The pot of water was quivering as it heated.
“What are you doing here alone?” Pascal asked.
Busying myself with the teapot, I didn’t look at him as I replied. “Vacationing.”
“In this weather?”
I glanced at him over my shoulder, attempting a carefree smile. “It’s peaceful. I needed a break from the city.”
Judging by his expression, he didn’t believe a word I said. “You’re from Ardaine?”
“Uh-huh.” I picked two tea bags and tied them neatly around the pot’s handle. I usually looked down on bagged tea, but here it came in handy.
“How old are you?” asked my guest from behind me.
“Twenty-three,” I chirped. God, I was bad at lying. I could bet my ears were just as bright red as his had been when he’d tried to convince me I’d hallucinated the dragon. “The tea will be ready soon. You need to warm up. Can I offer you something to eat? A protein bar maybe?”
“Thanks, but do you have something with more carbs? I need to replenish my energy.”
“Cereal?” I lifted the box from the grocery paper bag I kept by the counter.
He lit up like a kid at a fair. “I love cinnamon crunch.”
I took a bowl from the shelf above the sink. “I have oat milk. Hope that’s fine.” I’d only brought oat milk because I figured it wouldn’t go bad outside of the fridge.
“That’s ok. Thanks.”
As soon as I handed him the bowl and a spoon, he started shoveling the cereal into his mouth and chewing loudly.
“You really are starving, aren’t you?”
“You’ve no idea,” he mumbled, scooping up another spoonful.
It took him barely a minute before the bowl was empty. He sighed, his impressive shoulders sagging. “Yeah. That hit the spot.”
“More?”
“Please.”
He handed me the bowl, smiling softly. He seemed nice when he wasn’t purposefully trying to intimidate me.
I poured him a second helping, which he gratefully accepted.
He ate slower, gazing at me with disconcerting focus.
His bare chest drew my eyes like a magnet.
He was all big and strong, so very alpha; the omega in me was getting silly ideas.
Dragon or no dragon, I needed to get him out of here.
If he could stumble all the way to my car, maybe I could drive him to his.
“You said you had a car somewhere here?”
“I parked last night by the park’s main entrance, in the lowest part of Cross River valley.”
The park entrance was technically only fifteen miles away if you drew a straight line on a map.
But the narrow slithering roads lining the mountain peaks were tricky to navigate, so it would take me nearly two hours to drive there.
After the rainstorm, the drive would be even more of a challenge.
Together with the trek to my car, the trip would be a full-day adventure. I hesitated.
“Can you just…fly back to the car?”
He rolled his shoulders and grimaced. “I’m not sure, but I might have sprained my wing. I shouldn’t shift when it hurts like this.”
The wing that wasn’t here now. The invisible wing in the alternate state of his being. “But how can you even…?” I shook my head. “Never mind.”
Pascal gave me an awkward smile and kept eating.
He was handsome. Not beautiful like Valentin, but somehow more alpha-like if that was a thing. A bit older and rugged.
Granddad, I’m having breakfast with one of your dragons. He’s kinda hot.
“I can drive you,” I blurted.
He swallowed the mouthful he’d been chewing and nodded. “That would be very kind of you. How far is your car? I didn’t see one outside.”
“Um. About two miles? The road ends by the lake below.”
Pascal winced. “I’m not sure I can hobble that far now.” He looked so genuinely sorry and obviously hated to depend on help; I couldn’t be mad at him. But he couldn’t stay here either. Staying in an enclosed space with a strange alpha for any extended period wasn’t something I was comfortable with.
He must have seen the worry on my face.
“I’ll rest for a couple of hours,” he said, “and we’ll go later today.”
Was I being a jerk kicking him out like this? “Your ankle must hurt.”
“It’s not broken. And I heal fast…” He trailed off, looking into his empty bowl intently.
“You mean you heal faster than humans.”
“Something like that,” he hedged.
“Cool.”
He looked up, surprised. “Aren’t you afraid at least a little?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. I’m still not entirely sure any of this is real.”
“Fair point. I won’t hurt you, though.”
“I believe you.” And I did. I didn’t know why, but I trusted him on that at least.
“Just give me a few hours and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“You won’t be able to drive yourself home if your foot hurts.”
“If that happens, I can call someone. My phone’s in my car, together with my clothes.”
“Um. It might rain again. But I don’t even have any gear that would fit you.” Something occurred to me at that moment. “Wait a sec, maybe…”
I walked around the bed, nearly brushing Pascal’s knees in the tiny space. I lifted the lid of the ancient chest where my granddad used to keep his fishing equipment.
“Voilà!” I called as I pulled out an oversized old raincoat with a flourish. A cloud of dust accompanied my gesture and specks of dirt fell back into the chest. “Oh.”
Pascal waved the dust away, sputtering.
“Yeah.” I sagged. The coat hadn’t been used in years. The waterproof material was cracked in places, a few buttons were missing, and it was undeniably dirty. “Sorry.”
He frowned, looking the antiquity up and down. “Better than prancing through the forest naked.” Then he grinned. “Thanks.”
“Um.” His smile had me smiling back. “I’ll brush it off outside.”
In front of the cabin, I took the scourer I used for dishes and brushed the worst of the dirt off the coat.
Then I shook it until it stopped letting out dust billows.
It looked moderately better. At least it seemed clean on the inside.
I hung it on a hook by the door, protected by the overhanging roof.
When I came back inside, Pascal was standing by the bed, studying the pictures on my shelf. He held the blanket around his shoulders and favored one leg.
“I left the coat outside to air it.”
“Thanks. That’s your granddad?” he asked.
I knew the photo he was looking at by heart.
Every tree branch, every blade of grass, every ripple on the water, every wrinkle on my granddad’s face.
I was around nine, with my granddad by his old fishing boat down by the lake.
He was smiling in the picture, looking down at me like he used to, with pride and love.
“He used to bring me here when I was little.”
“When did he die?” Pascal asked gently.
“Two years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Tea’s ready!” I said too loudly.
Pascal sat on the bed and accepted a mug.
“Honey?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He blew on his tea and breathed in, smiling softly. “I didn’t know I needed this.”
“Nothing beats a good cup of tea on a rainy day.”
He hummed agreeably, then silence stretched again, getting a little awkward. Neither of us was willing to tell the other what in the name of the devil we were doing here, in the middle of nowhere. But out of the two of us, his story seemed much weirder.
“Are you in any kind of danger?” I fished when I couldn’t bear the quiet any longer. “Did someone try to hurt you?”
Pascal lifted his gaze, his eyes turning tender. “No. It was really just an accident.” He took a deep gulp of tea.
“So Granddad was right. You were literally just flying around.”
“The dragon needs it. When I can’t shift and stretch my wings for some time, I get moody and snappy. Nobody wants that.”
“Some people go jogging or skydiving, but you turn into a dragon and go flying in the mountains? Must be amazing.”
His eyes flashed with something as he stared at me, his expression growing intense. “It is.”
“Do you go flying here often?” I asked casually, trying to disperse the sudden tension between us.
“It’s the closest place to the city where I can roam somewhat freely.”
“And nobody knows you even exist.”
“If you tell someone, would they believe you?”
That pissed me off a little. He sounded smug.
“Granddad would have. I bet I’m not the only one who’s seen a dragon.
Maybe someone else would believe me too.
” Every time I said the word dragon out loud, he visibly cringed.
“Maybe there’s a whole system of support groups for people like me. Accidental dragon-sighting anonymous.”
“Ansel…”
“I mean, I can keep it to myself, I guess. But there must be more of you. So logically, even if you’re all careful as hell, encounters like ours happen. I bet all dragon legends and fairytales come from situations like this one.”
As I spoke, Pascal’s features hardened. “You will keep it to yourself.”
“Are you threatening me?” Fear lurked in the corners of my mind, but mainly, I was annoyed with his high-handedness. “That’s not nice. I invited you into my cabin and made you tea with honey.”
His emerald gaze narrowed. “You’re not on vacation, Ansel, and you’re not twenty-three, are you?”
And here I sat, thinking he was kind. Maybe the dragon wouldn’t hurt me, but what about Pascal the man? In which circles did he move? Did he know my father? If my parents knew I was in Granddad’s cabin with a naked alpha… I couldn’t even imagine the shitstorm that would cause.
“I’m not going to tell anyone anything,” I said. “I just don’t like it when you treat me like I’m stupid.”
“I understand. How about we both keep our secrets?”
I nodded stiffly and turned back to the stove.
His voice from behind me came softer. “Thank you for your help, Ansel. I’d really appreciate it if you could get me back to my car. You’ll get rid of me, and neither of us will ever tell anyone that we met. Sounds okay?”
What choice did I have?
“Sure.”