Chapter 1
Fresh Feathers Dry Cleaners used to be owned by an old male griffin who enjoyed roaring at kids who skateboarded on the sidewalk outside his shop. Now, the store belongs to a beautiful harpy I’ve thought about every day since I left this town.
I’ll be lucky if she remembers who I am.
“You sure you want to do this fake-name shit?” Xavier asks as he walks around the front of his truck to meet me on the curb.
The dragon has designated himself as my Folk Haven liaison. Up until this moment, I’ve been grateful. But I can’t have him letting people know who I am. Not yet.
There’s still a chance I’ll leave.
“Not fake,” I rasp. The damage to my vocal cords makes speaking difficult, but I don’t much notice the pain anymore. At least I’m still alive. There were a lot of days I had to remind myself that was a good thing.
“Fine, Lee.” Xavier puts more emphasis on the nickname than he needs to.
“You swore,” I remind him, and the towering Black man grimaces.
“Yeah, fine. Just sayin’.” He doesn’t push again, letting the disapproval ease off his face, replaced by curiosity. “You ready for this?”
Glancing at the storefront’s large glass window, I catch a hint of my reflection in the surface.
I don’t recognize the ragged stranger staring back at me.
Brown hair, roughly shorn at the shoulders; beard, grown scruffy enough to obscure the bottom half of my face; and thick glasses, distorting the top.
My body is strong and lean from living too long on the edge of survival, fighting claw and fang to find my way back to Folk Haven—this small town in northern Georgia.
I’ve traversed continents with nothing more than stolen clothes and a killer instinct.
All to get back to her.
“No.” I smooth a hand down the flannel shirt Xavier gave me to replace the threadbare T-shirt I’d shown up in. The material is too hot for September in the South, but I’d asked for something with more coverage, and this is what he gave me. “Let’s go,” I mutter.
Coward that I am, I let him lead the way into the shop.
A tinkling bell alerts anyone inside to a new arrival.
The first thing I smell is cleaning supplies.
Lots of cleaning supplies. Makes my nose itch until I’m forcefully holding back a sneeze.
But after another breath, the industrial scents fade away.
All I smell is her.
Flowers, baked in the sun and caressed by a breeze. Gentle, comforting, and a memory I held on to as long as I could. It took years for the harsh bite of frost to obliterate the fragrance from my mind.
I breathe deeper, then choke on air when Xavier strolls farther into the shop, his large shoulders shifting enough to reveal her.
Esmerelda Sharpwing.
Esme.
“Hey, big man. What’s up? You got your nice suit smelling like smoke again?” Esme stands behind a counter, barely glancing up from where she’s bent over a notebook, pencil scratching away.
She’s changed.
Of course she has. It’s been a long time, and neither of us is a teenager anymore.
The girl I once knew is now a woman. She used to be soft with rounded cheeks, but years have honed the angles of her face, somehow crafting her into a more beautiful creature than the image of perfection I held in my mind.
The same shade of dark blonde hair falls in curls over her naturally tan shoulders, but I spy a handful of white strands.
Bleached by the sun or age?
I couldn’t have cared less if I’d returned to find her stooped and wrinkled with a head full of white. Only that her changed appearance would mean she had lived a lifetime without me.
They took half a life with her from me. If I think on it too long, rage will cloud my mind, and I won’t be able to soak in this moment.
Every muscle in my body tenses, quivering, demanding I stride across the room and gather the harpy into my arms. To hold her close and breathe her in and promise never to let anyone or anything take me from her again.
But I wait. Esme hasn’t glanced up again from her drawing. Hasn’t reacted to my presence on an instinctual level, like I have with her. As much as I long to, there’s no way we can simply start where we left off. Too much time has passed.
“I’m calling in my favor,” Xavier announces.
That gets her attention. Esme straightens with a snap, her amber eyes wide and focused on the man.
“Of course. Anything. Tell me what you need,” she says.
At that word—anything—my hackles rise. I don’t like the idea of her leaving herself so open to someone else’s whim.
Protect yourself, I want to warn her. You are too precious for this world and the cruel beings living in it.
But I keep quiet.
“Favor is for my friend actually.” The big man turns and looks ready to drop his hand on my shoulder but thinks better of it. He tilts his chin my way. “A new dragon in town. He needs a place to stay. I figured he could crash in your upstairs apartment since those witches left.”
Her eyes flick to me, running over my face and my body in a quick sweep.
There’s no flash of recognition. No gasp or shout or angry glare.
Esme’s expression only holds mild curiosity.
“Really?” The corner of her mouth ticks up. “I thought you were gonna ask for something hard.” Esme sets down her pencil before strolling around the counter, coming closer.
A pulse of needy energy picks up in my body, the thrumming increasing as she approaches. Starved for any detail of her I can claim, my eyes eat up this mature version of the harpy.
The softness of her youth is also gone from her body, replaced by toned muscle. She looks strong. Like she could take down someone twice her size. Like she could wrestle me to the ground.
I would give anything for her to do exactly that.
“Hi.” She smiles wide, staring up into my face, so open and sweet and welcoming and …
Fuck. I want to devour her. And then I want to worship her.
“Hi,” I mutter.
“Nice to meet you, newbie. I’m Esme.” The woman I’ve loved since I was seventeen years old holds out her hand to shake.
Because I’m a stranger.
With both eagerness and reluctance, I slide my palm into hers, noting the new calluses that rub against mine.
When she curls her fingers around my hand, gripping tight, I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from blurting out the truth.
To hold back the confession of who I am and what she is to me.
Because I couldn’t stand it if the lack of recognition in her golden eyes remained. If, armed with my name, Esme still struggled to recall who I was.
Her hand releases mine, and I want to snarl at the loss. But she doesn’t back away, continuing to gaze into my face.
When I realize she’s waiting on a response, I force one out.
“Lee,” I grunt.
Her grin, already enchanting enough to stop my heart, manages to stretch wider.
“Man of few words?”
My fingers twitch with the urge to rub the scar on my neck. Nasty thing, but my beard and buttoned-up shirt cover it.
I give her a silent nod.
“That’s all right. I have plenty enough for the both of us.” She whirls on Xavier. “This is barely a favor. I wanted a new renter anyway.” Esme crosses her arms and contemplates the dragon, who leans against her counter, totally at ease in her space.
“He’ll need some time to find work,” Xavier explains. “Won’t be able to cover rent to start off.”
Shame coats my insides. There was a time in my life when money meant nothing to me because I had an abundance. Now, my pockets are empty, and I’m a burden.
Esme shrugs with a glance my way. “No problem. You pay when you can.” She tilts her head, eyes to the ceiling, as if in thought.
“A quarter,” her sweet voice declares. “This only covers a quarter of the favor. I still owe you three-fourths.”
The dragon snorts, his mouth curling in amusement. “You’re shit at bargaining. But fine. If you want to still owe me, that’s on you.”
Curiosity twists in my gut. Why does Esme owe him anything? Did she get into trouble and need his help out of it?
Why wasn’t I here to keep her safe?
That last question is pointless. I know why, and I couldn’t have stopped it. But now, I’m back, and while I’m in Folk Haven, I will make sure nothing harms Esmerelda Sharpwing.
“Let’s go check out your new digs.” Esme slips behind the counter again, coming up with a set of keys. “Entrance is around the side.”
She strolls to the front door, and I follow in her wake. When she reaches to flip a sign to Closed, Xavier stops her.
“You two go. I’ll watch the shop. Let people know you’re coming back soon.”
Esme offers a grin over her shoulder that has my heart stuttering. “Thanks, bud.”
We walk around the side of the brick building to find a set of exposed metal stairs.
They’re sturdy, barely making a sound when both of us climb them.
As hard as I try to be a gentleman, my baser urges have me studying the way her round ass shifts under her tight black pants.
Leggings, Xavier told me they’re called.
He’s been giving me a crash course in the changes in the world since I’ve been gone.
Just the advancements in phone technology are hard to grasp.
But this style choice? I can get on board.
“The lock sticks sometimes. You need to press down on the key as you turn it.” Esme pushes the door inward and ushers me into an open space.
The room has furnishings—a table, an overstuffed couch—and through an open doorway, I spot a bare mattress on a bed frame.
“There’re two bedrooms, one bathroom, a full kitchen, a view of Main Street …
” She strolls past the couch to tug open a set of curtains.
“Pretty nice place, if I do say so myself. Feel free to make it yours. Just try not to damage anything.” She tosses her honey curls over a shoulder as her eyes trace down my body again.
“Are you in an I’ve only got the clothes on my back to my name kinda situation? ”
I can’t stifle a grimace. Even the clothes on my back aren’t mine.
“Xavier”—his name is gravel in my throat, but so are most words—“gave me some … things.” Never thought I’d be so grateful for a toothbrush. The man offered plenty more, but this is all I really wanted. An introduction to the woman I used to know so well.
“Okey dokey. Well, I’ve got plenty of extra things too. When I get a Bed, Bath, and Bargains coupon, I have to use it. And they send me one, like, every week. It’s a problem, but today, it’s a solution!”
I think I remember what that store is, though I never used to have to buy those items for myself. My parents had staff for that.
“I’ll drop off some bed linens and towels. I don’t know if you use loofahs, but I’ve got at least six, so you’re getting one. And I’ll see what else I’ve got around my place.”
“You don’t—”
“Don’t tell me I don’t have to because I’m already doing it in my brain, which means the action is unstoppable.” Esme reaches out and gives my chest a gentle pat.
Every part of me tenses, wanting to lean into the affectionate caress. Esme misinterprets my reaction, backing up a step and folding her hands behind her back.
“Sorry. I’m a touchy person. Half the time, I don’t realize I’m doing it.”
“You … can touch me.” Please do. Run your fingers over my body, like you used to.
“Noted.” Esme’s smile is softer this time as she gazes at me. “Any questions about the place?”
“Why don’t”—I have to clear my throat to keep my voice working—“you live here?” This seems like the perfect spot for her. Above her business and near the heart of town.
Did she need more space because she doesn’t live alone? Did Esme find a partner while I was gone?
I couldn’t—wouldn’t—blame her even if I have the overwhelming need to find the shadowy figure and tear their throat out with my claws.
“I used to, but people don’t respect closing hours when you live above your business.
” She fiddles with her key chain as she talks.
“There’re only so many times a girl can get a knock on her door at eight p.m., asking about a clothes pickup, before she snaps and moves.
So, I did. Got myself a little place on the other side of town. ”
“Just you?” Despite my sore throat, the question sneaks out without help.
The harpy smirks, so adorable with her playful expression that I almost kneel at her feet and beg her to let me be hers. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Yes. I want to know everything I missed.
She hands me the key and leads me downstairs, telling me to stop by the shop if I have any questions or problems.
Though I’m terrified to leave her sight, sure she’ll disappear when I turn away, I force myself to go with Xavier.
“Changed your mind yet?” he asks once we’re in his truck, heading to his house to pick up the few belongings he gifted to me.
I shake my head as I watch the vibrant greenery speed by the window, still thrown off by so much color after years of white and gray.
Xavier grumbles low in the back of his throat, “Guess I learned my lesson. Never make a blood oath without all the facts.”
The dragon rubs a small mark on his wrist, a pale white scar from where a knife drew blood. I have a similar one on mine, but it’s not as obvious among my many other healed wounds.
When Yuito helped me escape, he gave me the name of a dragon in Folk Haven—Xavier.
But when I made it here and found the man, I refused to tell him who I was until he swore not to share the information with anyone without my permission.
I made him swear not to interfere with my purpose in Folk Haven.
Dragons talk to each other, and even with Yuito’s good word, I wasn’t sure of the stranger’s loyalties.
In turn, Xavier only agreed to enter the blood bargain if I swore I’d hurt no one in town unless first attacked.
An easy enough agreement to make. I’m done fighting.
We cut our wrists and spoke our oaths as the blood mixed.
Then, I told him my name and reason for returning, and he growled a whole string of curses at me.
“Just …” I watch him grind his teeth, no doubt struggling with words that come too close to interfering. “Thank you,” I say, getting the sense this dragon does want to help me. But I cannot allow him my full trust. Not with the betrayals that lurk in my past.
He’s done what I asked, and now, I can complete this task on my own.
Without disrupting Esme’s life or causing her pain, I will discover if my mate remembers me.