Chapter 10
TEN
AERO
“This is a terrible idea.”
Aero stood outside Wolf Moon Brewery, arms crossed, watching Delos practically vibrate with anticipation on the wooden porch.
The building was an old cannery converted into something aggressively rustic—exposed brick, massive timber beams, windows fogged with warmth against the evening chill.
The scent of hops and barley drifted through the door every time someone entered or left.
“It’s a fantastic idea.” Delos grabbed his arm and tugged. “Necessary social integration. You can’t spend your entire time in Haven Shores hiding in the cabin and lurking around the weather station.”
“I don’t lurk.”
“You absolutely lurk. I’ve watched you do it. You stand in corners and radiate menace until people forget you’re there.” Delos’s grin was entirely too cheerful. “Tonight, we’re going to practice being normal. Or at least your approximation of it.”
Aero’s dragon rumbled its displeasure. The beast had been restless all day—ever since this morning at the weather station, when Cassia had brushed past him to reach the monitoring console and the brief contact had sent the familiar current through him.
She’d felt it too. He’d seen her freeze, her breath catch, before she’d retreated to the far side of the room and refused to look at him for the next hour.
He’d spent the afternoon analyzing the moment. Cataloging variables. Trying to determine what combination of atmospheric conditions and surge interference could produce such an intense physiological response.
His dragon had laughed at him. Again.
“Aero.” Delos snapped his fingers in front of his face. “You’re doing that thing where you stare into the middle distance and forget other people exist.”
“I was thinking.”
“About the weather witch?”
“About the research.”
“Same thing, at this point.” Delos hauled open the brewery door. “Come on. The local alphas want to meet you. Apparently they don’t get many dragon visitors, and an elder is basically a celebrity. Try not to embarrass us.”
“I never embarrass—”
But Delos was already inside, the door swinging shut behind him, and Aero was left with no choice but to follow.
The interior of Wolf Moon Brewery was worse than the exterior.
Worse because it was warm and comfortable and full of the kind of easy camaraderie that Aero had spent centuries avoiding. Music played from somewhere—not loud, just present—and the overall effect was aggressively inviting.
The beast shifted uneasily beneath his skin. Too many people. Too much noise. Too far from exits.
A large booth dominated the back corner, and that was where Delos headed with the unerring instinct of someone who always knew where the interesting people were.
Six males occupied the space—a mix of species, if Aero’s senses were correct.
Wolf. Lion. Bear. Panther. All of them watching as the two dragons approached.
Assessing. Evaluating. Deciding whether the newcomers were threats or assets.
Aero understood this. He’d done the same thing in a thousand different communities across three continents. What he didn’t understand was the twist of discomfort in his gut. The unfamiliar desire to be found… acceptable.
“Gentlemen.” Delos slid into the booth with practiced ease, his grin already deployed at full wattage. “I come bearing gifts. Namely, my illustrious employer, who has agreed to grace you with his presence for exactly as long as it takes me to drink three beers.”
“Four,” Aero corrected, claiming the edge of the bench seat. He preferred positions with clear sightlines to exits. “I agreed to four beers.”
“Three for me, one for you.” Delos flagged down a server. “He doesn’t drink. Well, he doesn’t do most things that involve enjoying life, but drinking especially.”
“I drink.”
“Black coffee doesn’t count.”
Across the table, one of the males snorted. He was big—not just tall but broad, with the kind of muscle mass that came from shifting into something enormous on a regular basis. Dark hair, darker eyes, a stillness about him that spoke of hard-won control. Bear, Aero’s senses confirmed. Alpha.
“Cal Ursa.” The bear extended a hand. His grip was firm, testing. Aero met it without flinching. “Heard you were in town researching the surge.”
“That’s correct.”
“Also heard you’ve been spending a lot of time with Cassia Gale.”
Aero’s dragon surged at her name. He forced it down. “She’s assisting with the atmospheric analysis. Her expertise in local weather patterns is invaluable.”
“Invaluable.” Cal’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in his gaze. “Interesting word choice.”
“I’m Theo Vance.” The wolf alpha cut in before Aero could respond—a tall male with auburn hair and the kind of quiet authority that came from being obeyed without question. He didn’t offer his hand. Wolf protocols, probably. Different species, different customs. “Alpha of the Haven Shores pack.”
“Elder Aero Tau. Pacific Enclave.” Aero inclined his head. “I appreciate your willingness to meet.”
“Dragons don’t visit often.” Theo’s tone was neutral, but his eyes were sharp. “The last one we saw was about forty years ago. Just passing through. Didn’t even stay the night.”
“We’re not known for our social tendencies.”
“No.” Theo leaned back, arms crossing. “You’re known for being solitary, territorial, and unpredictable. So you’ll understand why we’re curious about what brought you here. And why you’re staying.”
It was a fair question. A reasonable one, even. Aero had been asked variations of it in every community he’d visited.
He gave his standard response. “The Continental Shifter Council has commissioned a comprehensive study of the mating surge phenomenon. Haven Shores represents the most significant surge activity we’ve documented in eighteen months of research.
The data potential alone justifies an extended presence. ”
Silence. The kind that suggested his answer had been insufficient.
“That,” said a new voice, rich with amusement, “is the most carefully rehearsed non-answer I’ve heard since the last time I had to deal with Continental Council politics.”
The speaker was lion. Aero could tell by the lazy grace of his movements, the golden undertones in his dark hair, the predatory gleam behind civilized eyes.
He sat at the far end of the booth with the easy confidence of someone who owned half the world and was merely tolerating the other half’s existence.
“Leo Castellan.” The lion offered a smile that was all teeth. “Junie’s mate. I believe you’ve met the witch contingent already.”
“Briefly.” Aero remembered red curls and sharp grins and the distinct impression that the chaos witch had been cataloging him for future reference. “Your mate is… memorable.”
“She’d say the same about you. She sent me with a list of questions, actually.” Leo pulled out his phone, scrolling. “Let’s see. Why do dragons hoard things? Can you actually breathe fire or is that a myth? If you mated a witch, would the babies be dragons or would they—”
“Leo.” Theo’s voice carried a warning.
“Fine, fine.” Leo tucked the phone away, but his smile didn’t fade. “I’ll save the interrogation for later. But you should know—we protect our own here. Cassia is part of that. Whatever your research involves, it doesn’t involve hurting her.”
“I have no intention of hurting anyone.”
“Good.” Leo’s eyes held his for a long moment. Something passed between them—recognition, maybe. One predator acknowledging another. “Then we shouldn’t have any problems.”