Chapter Twelve
Whisper
I sat shifted among the comfortable nesting material that Cirue, a beautiful splotched dragon with bronze and white in his scales, had made for their egg. For a creature so large, the egg was small, an inconsequential thing that he breathed fire over, showing me the ways of draconic parenthood.
The laying isn’t so bad… It gets easier.
Cirue glanced me up and down. I was barely an adult by draconic standards, so my first egg would be trying.
I shifted my hips a little and enjoyed the sensation of the solid weight in my belly.
I gave his little sparkling egg a lick of my flame, practicing controlling it while familiarizing the little one with my presence.
Cirue said they loved me, and I couldn’t wait to nest and know my egg’s love.
A soft knock on the door distracted us, raising our heads as one to stare at an invading presence—Morris.
Mate. Cirue’s purr told me all I needed to know, and I shifted, dressing hurriedly as I scampered out with a polite wave to our eldest dragon. Once Marcus was off his shift, I’d seek some time in my growing nest alone, too.
As I traipsed my way down a hall, I passed by a familiar scent, a bobcat, and turned, spying an omega I half recognized scrubbing at the communal bathroom floor. Bartlet? He raised his head, brow furrowed. “Whisper?”
I canted my head in question, stuffing my hands in my hoodie pockets to hide my state. I didn’t want anyone prying into my business.
“Hold on a sec—” He pulled out a phone and dialed, gaze going fierce as he glanced up and down the halls. “Got him right here.”
He shoved the phone toward me, and I tilted my head to hear the disgustingly familiar voice on the other end. Goober. “Wampus! Boy, you are in a hill of trouble! But, now that you’re back from wherever you been, you’re gonna let me into one of them hoards.”
I shook my head, staring the omega down as he relayed my response.
“I got your papa over here in a mess of debt. Would be sad if he needed to start earning his twenty dollars.” Something knotted up in my stomach, and my dragon purred in the back of my mind, licking its teeth. “Now, you gonna let me in?”
I took a step back, shook my head once, and stormed off, fists in my pockets, fighting off claws. I was more powerful than any of them. I was strong and gifted with fire. I was dragon, and he had no say in my life. And my parents were dead to me a very long time ago. The councils could handle it.
I made my way down the hall, away from it all when the omega, Bartlet, jogged after, grabbing me by my arm and pinning me in place for a few seconds, dragging me back to a doorway with something sharp pointed at my neck.
And I knew that whatever it was, it had little chance of piercing scales.
My scales, at least. But still, old memories and bitterness held me in place, frozen like a fawn as the harsh, fearful breath reminded me of my own not too long ago.
Bartlet waited several minutes, whispering threats as he stayed on the line and walked me to a back door, opening it with a quiet glance about.
And there he was, Goober. The rank scent made bile rise in the back of my throat.
And mired in all the stank on him was my papa’s, telling me he’d taken his twenty dollars early, and rage blossomed in me.
“Think you done got yourself a fancy new home and them dragons protecting you. You ain’t nothing but a dummy throwback, and that’s all you’ll be. Stink like dragon, rolling round them with their whelps like some babysitter.” Goober could smell the egg on me and had no idea.
“Now, let’s say you let me into that fuckhead’s hoard and I’ll be real generous like.
Every dollar I get out of there, I’ll forgive a dime of your daddy’s debt and won’t be no need to collect.
” Goober gave me a wide, yellow-toothed smile, and my dragon snarled, pacing in my mind as I bid my emotions away.
“Think you can stand there all stonefaced? Bulled up like you’re gonna cry and think you’re better than us, now?” Goober gave my arm a shove, and I braced myself, standing my ground as he forced his way around me. “Now be a good lil slut and take us to the hoard.”
Sickening peace overcame me as I strode away from him, hanging my head down to keep my eyes from betraying me, or my fangs from sprouting.
Sometimes scales even climbed my arms. Goober muttered as I led them away.
“Don’t even smell like no cat no more. Proof you wasn’t one to begin with.
You just take on the jizz stink of whatever’s fucking you. ”
My dragon had so many things to say as I clenched my fists and breathed slowly.
But I’d been prepared for the moment, told what to do.
The council frowned upon killing shifters, but if they invaded my nest. If they were breaking into my hoard, threatening my mate or young… Well, it couldn’t be helped.
I glanced toward Bartlet and gave him a withering stare, and he avoided my gaze, afflicted with guilt just like anyone should have been—doing what their alpha demanded.
I made stilted steps, walking toward my nest, clutching fabric inside my hoodie until I neared our hall.
I opened a door and gestured for them to enter, glancing about for any onlookers.
From their perspective? I was watching out for other dragons to stop them.
From my perspective? Other dragons that would stop me.
I shut the door behind us and gestured toward the hoard door, where within my nest lay.
“Stinks like dragons fucking in here.” Goober took a deep breath and laughed. “Might take a little taste and leave my mark on you before I leave.”
Goober never had before. He had nasty tastes, but he didn’t mess with people half his age.
Not for his own pleasure, anyway. Not me.
He liked his affairs to make noise, and I wasn’t good at that.
Not back then, at any rate. I had trouble controlling my voice since I’d discovered it and could get quite loud.
I pressed my finger on a panel on the door and the lock beeped in response, allowing me to enter it as the omega at my back prodded me with what I assumed was a pair of scissors, if the shadow I caught a glimpse of was accurate.
“What’s with your hands?” Goober reached out, grabbing my wrist as he pulled it toward him. I willed my nails to rescind, but still, they curled viciously. “Kitty got some claws after all.”
I sneered as he reached up to pat my cheek and stared into the room full of opulence that Marcus had promised to share with me. I couldn’t view it as ours, not yet. So, when Goober passed the threshold, shoving me aside, I turned to shove Bartlet back with a sneer. “Stop.”
Practicing my words had paid off, because Goober froze and turned to face me, face twisted in confusion. “Did you just say something?”
I nodded.
“Found your voice, looks like, too.” He huffed and stared me up and down before perusing the coins, fawning over the gathered stones and trinkets.
I stripped my shirt in a flash, and Bartlet whimpered, rushing forward with his scissors to jab into my side—fruitlessly.
It barely scratched my skin as the blades clattered to the floor.
A growl curled in my throat as I shifted, pants tearing.
I towered above Goober as he took in every bit of what had happened.
“D-dragon. You’re a burner. I—I didn’t. Bartlet, why didn’t you tell me he’s a—” Goober held his hands up, suddenly very aware of what he’d done.
You have threatened my life. You’ve trespassed onto my hoard. I stepped forward, delighting as Goober scrambled back, slipping on coins before falling to his ass.
“Y-you invited me in!” He glanced around. “And we have a deal. Paying back for… Your papa, remember?”
I opened the door. You shoved me to come inside. You struck my face. All technically true, as I sneered.
“Listen! We can—we can talk this out. We can make this right… I can give you f-fifty cents on the dollar!” Goober scooted back.
Let him earn it back. His debt is not my duty. You made sure I had no love for my parents.
“Well, call it evens, then? Dollar to dollar?” He gave a half laugh, and I raised my claws.
I had every desire to chomp down on his corpse and consume him, but a needling voice in the back of my head reminded me that the alpha had poisoned his body, and I would not nourish my child with the chemicals he consumed.
I pressed one paw onto his chest and curled my claws, talons piercing his flesh one at a time. With my other, I reached forward, a single talon extended as the needlelike tip pressed right under his jaw, a single bead of blood welling and sliding away.
He swallowed; a sharp whimper caught in his throat. I sank it deeper, avoiding the pulse of blood hammering in his throat. “Whisper! Stop. I was your alpha! You gotta listen to me!”
You never were my alpha, but nobody ever will listen to you again. I sank my claw deeper and twisted my finger, a scream of pain going slack and choking in his throat as I withdrew, spitting flame against his flesh to seal the damage done as he clawed at his throat.
I lifted my weight off him and sat back, holding my head high as his screams came out in fruitless breaths.
I’ve severed the nerve to your vocal cords. Nothing else. It will not heal back, and you will be as dumb as you ever claimed I was. I roared out loud, my call for my mate and clan to aid me.
He clutched at his throat, lips and teeth clacking and smacking as tiny hisses brushed over his lips.
You’ll have to pick another alpha.
Still, he flapped his useless lips at me.
Perhaps Lenny. Or maybe Foster. My dragon laughed as I reached forward, toying with his leg, a claw tugging his jeans and flipping him around.
More swearing and unvoiced words.
I slung him from the door to my nesting chamber and blew a stream of fire that had his breathless screech finding friction only in cramping bronchioles.
Want to take his stupid ass home? I stared at a cowering Bartlet.
The omega shook his head violently.
You’re fired, by the way. And send messages to my parents— Because I know you’ll gossip.
They aren’t welcome here. They show up wanting to make nice, and I’ll make fire, instead.
I had good memories with them a long time ago.
They’ll need to be clean for a long time before I even want to look at them. Let alone allow my young to see them.
I snorted as the door to our chambers flew open with a heaving, breathless Marcus in the doorway, scales prickling his arms.
“Well, shit. Cat’s out of the bag…” Marcus sagged in the doorway as Atkin, Lyphus, and Malkim joined him. I shifted back into my flesh form and threw my shirt on, searching about for pants. “Many cats.”
I grinned, counting off on my fingers. “Dragon. Baby. Mate. Voice.”
Marcus approached me with open arms, giving me a long hug as Atkin and Morris wove around, Atkin escorting Bartlet out while Morris dragged Goober out by an ankle, a snarl of smoke curling from his nostrils.
“We’ll need to handle this with the council. What happened?” Marcus rested a hand on my belly, stroking the rounded surface of it.
Words were not easy to make, not long stories.
I could muster simple words, and even they sounded stilted and wrong.
But, my dragon helped. When you took me, he wanted me to help him steal from you.
He gave me a phone that I left behind so he couldn’t ask me.
Bartlet told Goober I was back, and I suppose he’d been waiting for me, and I did my best.
I explained the rest of what happened, my cheeks burning pink. Including the threat to my parents was hard, but I mustered through it. Even if my papa had to pay with his body, if a debt existed, it was not my concern. He’d made his choice the day he forgot about me.
Marcus nodded, gave me a soft kiss, and left.
And a chapter of my life had come and gone, a bitter one. And since I’d tasted fire, the burning thirst I felt to belong somewhere had been quenched.
I was dragon. A gift from the gods to the protectors of the land to keep their bloodlines thriving.
But that was how the story ended. Not with a shout or a cry.
It ended with a whisper.