7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
I tri watched, breath held, waiting for his mate’s reaction.
Arlo’s eyelids fluttered, and he blinked a few times before his eyes widened to a comical size. Frozen, unmoving, he stared, but there was no hiding the emotions this time. The vein in his throat pulsed. The tears he had so valiantly battled finally spilled over, and his breath caught on a little hiccup.
He didn’t, however, ask why the dragon looked like an intricately crafted statue rather than the interactive pets at the market. While his innocence was sweet, it still broke Itri’s heart that his dove expected so little.
“It’s blood magic,” he explained, his tone mild. He pointed to a sharp spike on the tail. “Just prick your finger to activate it, and it will be bound to you forever.”
“Thank you. I…I, uh, I don’t…” He trailed off, his voice quiet and shaky.
Itri understood, though. Taking the dragon, he held it by its underbelly and turned the tail toward Arlo. Then he grasped his mate’s hand and guided it toward the spindle. He winced when Arlo pricked his finger, his jaw clenching when a single drop of blood flowed down the needle.
It was necessary and wouldn’t cause lasting injury, but he hated the idea of the male experiencing even a moment of discomfort.
With the magic activated, the miniature beast came to life, stretching its wings and shaking its horned head, making the dark scales along its neck glisten in the light. Returning it to its rightful owner, he smiled when Arlo lifted the dragon to eye level, beaming at it as he had just birthed the damn thing himself.
Itri supposed, in a way, he had.
The tiny lizard let out a quiet roar and inched closer, moving right to the edge of Arlo’s palm before stretching its neck out to nuzzle his cheek.
“Oh,” Arlo gasped. “I didn’t know—I can’t—wow.”
Gods, he was adorable. “What will you name it?”
“I’m not sure. Is it a girl or a boy?”
To that, Itri had no response. It hadn’t even occurred to him to ask the shopkeeper.
“I think she looks like a girl,” Arlo announced.
In response, the dragon wagged its freaking tail, plopped down on its butt, and…chirped.
Itri snorted. “I believe you have your answer.”
“In that case, I think I’ll name her…Ari.”
The little menace chirped again, seemingly in agreement.
In that moment, it occurred to him that his mate did indeed have a blood bond with a dragon now. It just wasn’t him. He really hadn’t thought this through, and now he was jealous of a fucking toy.
Brilliant.
“Ari?” he questioned, trying to redirect his uncharitable thoughts. “Any particular reason?”
“Arlo and Itri.” Arlo rubbed the top of the dragon’s head with his index finger and grinned. “Ari.” Then he glanced up, his gaze beseeching. “Do you like it?”
Just like that, his jealousy evaporated, replaced by warmth and utter adoration. “It’s perfect.”
“She’ll need a habitat, won’t she?” His entire face glowed as he tickled under Ari’s chin. “Do I feed her? Does she sleep?”
“She may not be real in the literal sense, but she will need everything a normal pet would. You can even train her to do tricks.”
He may have forgotten to specify the gender of the dragon, but he had taken care to learn as much as he could about what it needed to thrive. Basically, she would provide all the benefits of a typical domesticated pet—love, comfort, distraction—without any of the risk.
Unlike a kitten or a puppy, Ari would never fall sick or require vet visits. She wouldn’t wander away and become lost forever. Best of all, she would live as long as Arlo did. Hell, she wouldn’t even expire if her new owner forgot to feed her.
Seeing them together, however, Itri didn’t think that would be an issue. If anything, he had a feeling he would have to remind his mate not to overindulge her.
“I’ve never had a pet.”
While said as a simple statement of fact, Itri heard the note of uncertainty woven within the words. Arlo had yet to mention his family, and Itri wondered if this might be a good time to broach the subject.
“Not even as a child?”
“Nope.” Arlo shook his head. “My parents don’t believe in keeping animals as pets.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “Besides, they were too busy balancing their chakras or being one with nature to remember to feed me, let alone a dog.”
Itri sat in silence, trying to unpack the information, along with Arlo’s casual delivery. He didn’t sound angry or disappointed. No bitterness. Not even resignation. For all the emotion he showed, he could have been confessing that he’d once been grounded for missing curfew.
“Your parents didn’t feed you?”
Itri had lost his family long ago, back when the world had been a different, darker place. The memories he had of them, though, he would always treasure.
“It’s not like that. They didn’t mistreat me or anything.” He shrugged again. “They just have different priorities. I mean, they can barely take care of themselves.” A quiet laugh puffed from his lips. “I can’t tell you how many times our power was shut off because they forgot to pay the bill.”
Nothing Itri had heard sounded the least bit humorous. “Dove, that’s not—”
“I know,” Arlo interrupted. “I’ll be the first to admit that they never should have procreated, but then I wouldn’t be here.” He gave Itri a saucy wink. “And the world would be a lot less colorful, right?”
“Absolutely.” On that much, they could agree.
Rather than press the issue and risk his mate shutting down completely, Itri brought the conversation forward to the present. “Where are they now?”
“No idea. Probably on top of some mountain drinking magic mushroom juice.” His laughter sounded genuine, almost indulgent. “We didn’t have some big falling out or whatever. They still call a couple of times a year. Like I said…”
“Different priorities,” he finished for him. While Arlo seemed at ease with the conversation, Itri needed to change the subject before he said something he couldn’t take back. “You have the day off tomorrow, yes?”
Arlo bobbed his head. “Yeah, why?”
“I think we should plan a trip into the city to get what we need for Ari.”
Arlo’s head popped up, and his eyes grew big. “Really? We can do that? You don’t mind?”
He just wanted to be with his mate. Otherwise, he couldn’t care less what that entailed. If Arlo wanted to spend the entire day designing a terrarium for his beloved pet, that was exactly what they would bloody well do.
“I don’t mind at all.”
An angelic smile split his lips, and he lifted Ari to rest on his shoulder as he inched closer. “I probably shouldn’t have accepted her.”
Ah, Itri had been prepared for this. “You’re bonded now. No take backs.”
Arlo chuckled. “Let me finish.”
“By all means.”
“I probably shouldn’t have accepted her, but this is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.” He took Itri’s hands and squeezed. “I’m not great at talking about feelings and stuff, but I just…thank you. This means a lot to me.”
“You are more than welcome, dove.” He wished he could express in a way Arlo would accept that he received just as much from the exchange. “I am curious, though. You seem quite taken with her.” His gaze flickered to the creature happily dozing on his mate’s shoulder. “Why is that?”
“I don’t really know. I just felt drawn to her.” He dropped his gaze and snorted. “Which is dumb. I mean, I know she’s not real.”
Sliding one of his hands free, Itri combed his fingers through Arlo’s hair and lightly cuffed his ear. “She is as real as you want her to be. There’s no shame in loving her.”
Arlo’s hand twitched inside his at the mention of the L word, but he didn’t comment. “You think so?”
“Dove, there are grown men out there having intense love affairs with their monster trucks.”
Arlo had the most infectious laugh, the kind that radiated with unfettered joy. “Okay, that does make me feel better.”
“That’s the ticket.”
Palming the back of his head, Itri pulled him closer and dipped his head, his eyes locked on those full, luscious lips. He paused a breath away, savoring the anticipation, enjoying the way Arlo’s pulse sped and his body trembled.
But before he could close the gap, an earsplitting crash rent the air, shattering the intimate moment.
Arlo yelped and bolted up from the sofa, his attention fully on the sliding door that led to the balcony. “What the hell was that?”
Itri stiffened, his instincts demanding he protect his mate and eliminate the threat, even if he didn’t know what that threat was yet. His heart knocked heavily against his ribs, and adrenaline coursed through his veins. But he took a steadying breath and forced himself to remain seated.
“Probably just a stray cat,” he answered, his voice calm and unbothered.
There was nothing for Arlo to worry about, no reason for him to panic.
His mate turned to him with an arched eyebrow. “You think a cat did that?”
Not even a little, but Itri saw no reason to upset him further.
“I’ll check it out.” Rising to his feet, he placed a casual hand on Arlo’s shoulder, encouraging him to sit again. “Wait here.”
Aware of Arlo’s eyes on him, he moved toward the balcony with an effortless gait, yet every muscle in his body remained coiled and ready for attack. His mind raced with possibilities of what he might find, each one more troubling than the last. Yes, the metallic crash very well could have been caused by a cat or another animal, but he wasn’t prepared to rule out nefarious reasons.
Ridiculous. Who would want to hurt Arlo? Unfortunately, emotions and logic didn’t always coexist in harmony. Besides, when it came to his mate, he would rather be accused of overreacting than being ill-prepared.
Pausing at the balcony door, he cast a quick glance back at Arlo, saddened by the look of concern in his wide, anxious gaze. “Don’t worry, dove. It’s probably nothing. You are perfectly safe.”
Arlo’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “It’s not me I’m worried about.” He slid to the edge of the cushions and clasped his hands together in his lap. “Be careful.”
Itri had people in his life who cared about him, who would willingly march into battle with him. Skye Maddock being the most outspoken of that select few. While he did appreciate her concern, he had never given it the gravity it deserved.
With Arlo, however, everything felt different, and for the first time in his life, he understood what it meant to have someone truly rely on him. His mate was scared for him, but he also trusted him to keep them both safe.
Sliding the door open, he paused at the threshold and sniffed the air, searching for anything out of place. Beyond the scent of grilled meat, spiced herbs, and the exhaust of passing cars on the highway, he detected nothing amiss.
He stepped out onto the balcony, scanning the small space for any signs of a trespasser. Beyond a couple of folding chairs and a fake palm tree, however, the area appeared unremarkable.
“Did you find anything?” Arlo asked, his voice coming from directly behind him.
Itri closed his eyes and choked back a growl. There was no threat, no one waiting in the darkness to hurt them. His mind knew it, but his body hadn’t caught up yet, still wound tight and primed for a confrontation.
“No, there’s nothing.”
“Can I come out there?”
His quiet request pierced through the last of Itri’s defensiveness, and he sighed as he reached his hand back. “Come on, dove. It’s safe.”
Ignoring his hand, Arlo slid past him and went directly to the railing at the edge of the balcony.
“Arlo,” he said, his voice filled with warning. “What are you doing?”
“I just want to check something. It sounded like—yes! Look.” He leaned over the railing and pointed toward the ground. “It looks like something knocked over the neighbor’s trashcan.”
Something…or someone .
Instantly on alert again, he ushered Arlo back into the living room, locking the balcony door behind them and inserting the security bar into the tracks. “I’m going to go check it out. Stay inside. Lock the door behind me.”
Arlo stared at him, unblinking. “It’s just a trashcan.”
Maybe. Maybe not. He wouldn’t take any chances.
“Lock the door.”
A heavy silence fell between them, but Itri waited, unwilling to take another step until Arlo agreed. Eventually, his mate nodded.
“Okay. I’ll lock the door.”
Itri sighed. “Thank you.”
Stepping into the hallway, he closed the door and waited until he heard the sound of the deadbolt being engaged before he jogged down the carpeted stairwell. Outside, he followed the walkway around the building to the back alley, scanning the area for anything or anyone who shouldn’t be there.
He spotted the bin right away, overturned a couple of units down, its contents spilling onto the narrow lawn that bordered the row of patios. Since the owner hadn’t come to investigate, he had to assume they weren’t home. The dark windows and lack of sound coming from inside the flat lent credence to the theory, but he remained alert as he approached.
Arlo probably thought him an irrational fool, and he could understand why. This wasn’t only about a trash receptacle, though. Something had been tickling at the edge of his subconscious all day. Nothing tangible. Nothing he could pinpoint. Just the uneasy feeling of being watched, like eyes following him in a crowd.
When Arlo had told him about the missing package, he had played it off, not allowing his alarm to bleed through. Not for a moment, however, did he believe it had been a shipping error, or that someone at the hotel had misplaced his package. He didn’t have any evidence, but he strongly suspected someone had taken it.
Worse, he had a pretty good idea who.
After their confrontation in the hotel lobby, he had hoped it would be the last he’d see of Jude Caldwell. Sadly, he had neglected to consider one important fact.
Cockroaches didn’t die. They just scurried off to hide until the danger had passed.
He admitted the accusation sounded like a wild leap, especially since he hadn’t seen any sign of the jackal shifter lurking around the Manor. At the same time, he couldn’t think of anyone else desperate—or stupid—enough to steal from him.
Crouching beside the dented metal container, he scanned the scattered refuse for any sign of what had caused the disturbance. The lid had come loose during the fall and rolled down the alleyway where it now rested against the abutting fence.
His breath formed small clouds in the cool night air as he sifted through the debris. An eerie quiet blanketed the night, the silence thick and oppressive, broken only by the heavy beat of his own heart.
As he searched, he tried to catch a scent, a signature, but the smell of rotting food scraps overpowered everything else in the vicinity. It wasn’t until he shifted a piece of cardboard that he finally noticed something out of place—the unmistakable mark of a footprint in the dead grass.
Barely detectable in the moonlight, the faint indentions led away from the building, down the alleyway in the opposite direction he had come from.
Itri’s pulse quickened as he rose to follow the trail, his senses heightened, and every nerve on edge. Ten feet away, the wind shifted, clearing the odor of decomposition and replacing it with a scent he knew all too well.
A growl built in his chest, and electricity sparked from his fingertips. While not often wrong, he had hoped this time would be an exception. He should have known better than to ignore his instincts.
“Jude.”