Chapter 16
Tane
Ididn't come out of my bedroom for two days. There was no need. I had everything in here, laptop, phone, TV, fridge. Elias brought hot meals and left them by my door on my order. I wasn't hungry but I still ordered three meals a day and tried to eat what little I could.
I never saw or heard Malin leave. It was for the best. My chest ached that I couldn't fix things between us. And maybe never would. Rupert would never have forgiven me. Tanekan had stopped talking again.
I never cried. Sometimes, as I watched endless and mindless TV programs, I would have to wipe at my face to dry it, but I wasn't crying. Not really. If water leaked from my eyes, I barely noticed.
On the third day I got tired of looking at the same four walls. I texted Elias and told him I would be downstairs for dinner in the formal dining room.
He replied. “Affirmative.” He was always so formal. But then he sent a second text. “Are you all right, sir?”
That was the first time I smiled. Just a little. I replied that I was fine.
I showered for the first time since playing handball with Danon and dressed for dinner.
I'd slept in my clothes and they were quite ripe and ready for the hamper.
I took my time choosing trousers and a nice off-white turtleneck.
My hair had been sticking out in all directions but after washing it, drying it and combing it back I felt somewhat presentable again.
Shoes polished, a gold watch and my favorite emerald ring in place, I made my way downstairs.
The house was far too silent. Even though Malin was gone eighty percent of the year, this silence was different, emptier.
I swallowed down my discomfort and walked with my head up into the dining room. To my surprise, Kirion was sitting at the table. He looked up quickly in surprise, then glanced at Elias as if to say: Why didn't you tell me?
It was funny how I could read him so easily. How with that one look I knew he'd been eating in here every night alone since I'd been in my room. Had he been that lonely? One more thing I could add to my list of self-blame.
Now, presented before me was a second young man I had the opportunity to screw up. He wasn't my son and I wasn't raising him but I'd made a promise to be responsible for his well-being.
Shit. What a great start for me.
“Oh, hi,” Kirion said. “Is it okay if I eat here? I didn’t know you would be.”
“I'd like the company.”
“Me, too.”
At his words, parts of my body that had been tense for over two days suddenly relaxed.
It felt natural to be around him, his presence in the room no hindrance.
In fact, it was more than welcome. I liked Kirion.
As I'd gotten to know him I realized I enjoyed our talks and our meals together.
I had even enjoyed taking care of the cut on his hand.
Time spent with him had given me a peacefulness I never thought I would feel.
Over dinner, we were silent at first. But by the second course we were talking, not about anything major, mostly boring pleasantries, but it was actually quite wonderful. We lingered over dessert. I liked to think it was because we both didn't want the meal to end.
The next few days we shared all our meals.
It was a quiet companionship with zero stress.
The storm had passed and when I went out to attend my garden and clean it up Kirion followed and helped.
After that, we began to work in the garden almost every day when the sun was out.
Fall was quickly upon us. I pointed out the perennials to him, which always died back but came alive again in spring and then taught him about the winter flowers that waited for the right temperatures to show themselves.
He wasn't afraid to kneel in the dirt and get his hands muddy.
His cut had long since healed. He always wiped his hands on his pants and then laughed about it afterward.
I offered him a gardening apron but he didn't want it.
He said he didn't care if he was a little messy and that it felt good.
His laughter, when it rang through the still and sullen air, was like music.
I had little garden posts and areas that held garden decorations and chimes.
But he was the best chime, and the prettiest decoration.
We worked together well, never bumping into each other, always seeming to know when the other was ready to take the trash to the big bin or rake up the mess we'd made or take a drink break.
When that happened, we'd sit on the bench underneath an elm tree I'd planted after Rupert died. If it was a particularly nice day the wind would ripple across the plants and through the leaves and ruffle Kirion’s beautiful hair.
Sometimes I imagined the wind was my hand.
Though we’d come from privilege, the world had not been kind to either of us. But here we were both at peace. The garden was healing us.
One day, the winds turned cold. Kirion came to me, garden gloves in hands, and said, “I have to go inside now. My hands are too cold to work even with the gloves.” One palm still held a scar from when he’d cut himself.
Without thinking, I ripped off my own gloves and took his hands in my own, rubbing gently. My stomach flipped as tingles of pleasure rushed through me.
To my surprise, Kirion’s fingers curled around my own. He looked up at me and smiled. “Why are your hands still warm?”
“Alphas have hot blood.”
“Oh really?”
That made me laugh.
“Come on, let’s go. We can finish on a warmer day. I’ll have the groundskeepers haul the bins.”
Just then, a cold wind blew over us. We ran past the pool, already covered for winter, and into the house.
Elias, perfect as ever, was waiting to take our coats.
“A hot beverage, sir?” he asked.
“Yes. Coffee for me.”
“Coffee sounds good,” Kirion said.
“Let’s go into the den.”
Once in the room, I turned on the fire and gathered two blankets off a shelf, one for each of us. We sat side by side on the comfy couch.
It was easier for both of us to talk more openly lately. We spent most of our days together when I wasn’t working in my office. He was good company. The fact that he enjoyed gardening with me was an added plus.
Elias brought a tray with mugs, cream, sugar and a carafe of fresh coffee. We sipped our drinks in a new kind of silence, one that was less awkward and more natural.
Kirion spoke up. “I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“What?”
“Have you sent a report to my father yet?”
I’d forgotten. “I haven’t. I suppose it’s due.”
“I just wondered what you might say in it.”
“I would say that you are in good health and seem content. Would that be true?”
He nodded. “To tell the truth, I like it better here.”
“You do?” That surprised me. “You don’t miss home?”
“No. That part of my life is over. Gone. They don’t want me. Why should I want them? The only reason it was hard was because it was a known and this country was an unknown.”
“You’ve been confined here. It’s still an unknown.”
He tilted his head. “I guess. But I feel safe here so it isn’t about confinement. Not exactly. It’s about making it over with what my new life offers.”
“And is that working?”
His smile was a bit mysterious. “I think so.”
“I’m glad.” Everything inside me was waking up. Tanekan stretched in my mind. A couple weeks after Malin left he’d finally started talking to me again.
He is already ours.
The words did and did not shock me. My dragon was only echoing what I thought when my mind became unguarded in the happier moments of my day or right before sleep.
“What would you write about your thoughts of me?”
“Where?”
“In the report.”
Now my laugh came out with a nervous edge. “The truth. That you are well-mannered. You don’t make trouble. You are kind. You don’t complain.”
“Is that what you’re thinking?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
What was he getting at? Everything I said was a compliment. But what Tanekan just thought, well, I couldn’t burst right out with that. The word “ours” was improper anyway. I didn’t think of Kirion as an object to be owned even though I did own him.
“If I was going to write a report to my father about you, which I’m not, but if I did, I would say the same. That you are well-mannered and kind. That I’m lucky to be here.”
“Really.”
“Yes. And one other thing.”
“Tell me.”
“That I feel safe with you.”
I took a large gulp of my coffee, nearly burning all the skin off the roof of my mouth. I winced, then set down my mug. “That’s quite a statement. A compliment.”
“It’s a big deal. For omegas, I mean. At least, where I come from.
Not all alphas are like you. It’s not just their size and strength, but they are unpredictable, and among wolves are raised to be not only dominant but controlling.
It makes omegas feel small and powerless and that stirs the alphas up more.
Their aggressive side comes out. It’s all hormonal, though I didn’t pay a huge lot of attention in biology classes.
But there are words for all those hormone factors and adjustments. ”
“Dragons aren’t that different,” I confessed.
“But you are.”
Malin would have disagreed. He would have said I took Rupert for granted and didn’t spend my time with the two of them as I should have.
He would say my alpha took over and controlled the bankroll and treated family like I did the house as only a place to rest when I needed it.
He was wrong. I had been doing my best. I needed my family.
I loved them. I didn’t control Rupert. And obviously I had failed to control my son.
“I’m glad to hear that you feel safe with me.”
I would never compromise him. Never. I had lines I wouldn’t cross personally or in business. Not like many other alphas I knew.
But one thing I’d been wanting to ask him, but wasn’t sure how, was about his heats.
His file included personal things about him, things I wouldn’t want others to know.
But he didn’t get to choose. One thing it contained was a heat schedule.
Kirion had heats only twice a year. Winter and summer. The winter one was coming up.
I had no idea how to broach the subject.
But I had questions. Did he prefer to go somewhere alone?
Were there certain foods that should be stocked?
If he needed personal items, he could order those.
But what if he wanted to be put up in a hotel for the duration?
Would he ask me? I could do that. I would do anything for him to feel comfortable and secure.
What if he knew I now also wanted him? Like Tanekan wanted him. For mine alone. Would he no longer feel safe? Would he then want to run?
The last thing I wanted was to scare him away.
He smiled up at me. His eyes sparkled. Or maybe it was only my imagination.