Chapter Four
Viraj
In his study, he lay on the floor with two frisky little Stoor-looking pups, bright golden manes and scales of gold and sage, so different from what he’d been accustomed to, but they were cathartic to play with.
And for once, it didn’t hurt his heart to see them frolicking about.
Maybe they could adopt one day, have their own little pups running about—or they could search for the Dette that belonged to them.
At the very thought of it, Viraj’s dragon howled. No. It wasn’t an option. They needed no Dette. The three of them were perfect, and no other needed to be in his nest.
Pathetic nest. His dragon scoffed in his head.
Won’t be pathetic for long. Gatlin and Teige are redoing it. For what reason, Viraj refused to think of. Maybe they’re doing it up for a Dette for us?
His dragon snorted. We will claw our mate marks off before sharing our mates.
The thought hurt.
A curious pup nuzzled up to Viraj, his little thoughts chipping at his mind. What’s wrong?
“Nothing, little one.” Viraj patted the head of the pup, all golden scales and bright eyes. Lyam.
Dettes get sad a lot. Drakes mean. Such a tough lesson for one so little.
“Are Drakes being mean to you, little one?” Viraj raised his brows and stared the little one down with all the seriousness he could muster.
No. Daddies will kill mean Drakes. Lyam sniffed imperiously. Are Drakes mean to you? That why sad?
“No, my Drakes are nice to me.” Viraj patted the little one’s soft, feathery mane, idly playing with the golden strands, and before he knew it, he was doing as he did when younger with his siblings, plaiting a little braid down his back.
If they’re mean to Dettes, the council will kill them. Lyam beamed.
“Well, we don’t have any Dettes.”
You can have more than one Dette mate?
Lyam tilted his head.
“Well, sort of. Vritra don’t have many Drakes.
We have Hijada, Drakes, and Dettes. About a third of all our pups are Dette.
More than half are Hijada, and about one in a dozen or so is Drake.
” Viraj searched around his office and came up empty, so he fished his own elastic from the short manbun he wore and used it to tie off the tail of Lyam’s braid while Faolan sniffed curiously, nosing at the braid.
Me next! Faolan huffed, and Lyam glared before grudgingly moving over to let Viraj at his mane. And Viraj almost told little Faolan that braids were for Hijada and Dettes only, but at the same time, it didn’t matter. Gender wasn’t a statement of hair or clothes.
What’s Hijada? Lyam preened with his little braid as Viraj got up and searched for a drawer in his desk for a hair tie, coming up with a ribbon instead.
An impatient Faolan followed him and sniffed at it before circling in place a few times with an excited huff.
Viraj smiled and sat down. “Well, Lyam, a Hijada is a dragon that cannot shift, and is neither Dette nor Drake.”
Lyam’s eyes got big. Really? Who do they mate?
“Hijada aren’t often interested in that. They prefer having friends instead of mates.” Viraj figured his parents could tell him more if they desired.
That seemed to satisfy the little one’s curiosity as Viraj worked on Faolan’s little mane, his hair a little coarser than Lyam’s. Whether it was the difference between Dette and Drake, Dior and Loch, or simple genetics, Viraj didn’t know.
How come more Vritra Dettes don’t come here. There’s lots of Drakes.
“They prefer it the way it is. Every Drake that leaves is given a Dette sibling to—” Viraj swallowed hard. It was a story he had to tread carefully.
“In the old days, some Drakes bought Dettes. And Drake sons who were sent away were given a Dette sibling. It was our job to find them a good Drake. And that money we’d use to build our fortune.” Viraj hesitated. “It was a cruel way.”
I won’t sell Lyam. Faolan huffed.
“Good.” Viraj finished the plait and tied it off while Faolan preened, happy with the work. Viraj almost started to tell him not to make the same mistake he did, but got caught off guard.
Who sold you and Pepa Ryan?
“I—” Viraj started to respond when a clipped step entered the room, Bastien staring his little ones down with a fond smile.
“Come here, boys. I’ll tell you the story.” Bastien gave him a look that suggested it would be a heavily sanitized one.
Faolan and Lyam gave Viraj a second glance before running to their papa with tails swishing.
“What cute little braids! Isn’t Uncle Viraj so nice?” Bastien smiled as the pups nodded.
“But, a little story time. Remember that times are different, now. They were different when I was a kid and even more different now.” Bastien beamed. “Dragons can be unkind when threatened and desperate.”
The pups watched him obediently. “Long ago, Pepa Ryan’s daddy gave him to Uncle Viraj as a present and told him to come to this country.
They did things differently. So, understand, that Uncle Viraj’s father found a Drake for Ryan, and Uncle Viraj thought they were happy.
He gave your uncle Viraj this town. Your pepa Ryan was worth a whole city of silver.
But, Pepa Ryan was sad with his Drake and many years later was found by your other pepas and they fell in love. ”
What did our pepas pay for Pepa Ryan? Faolan stared with wide eyes as Lyam cowered.
“Not a penny. All their riches went to him alone. I learned better, by that time.” Viraj lowered his head as the guilt stung.
What did uncles Teige and Gatlin pay for you? Lyam glanced at Viraj.
The thought made him laugh. “Years of patience.”
Bastien cleared his throat. “Stags don’t pay for mates. They know better.”
“Now, at least.” Viraj huffed. “How’s Teige’s claw?”
“Teige’s what?” Bastien blinked, thinking for a moment before his mouth formed a soft “o”. “Fine. Not ingrown. But we are going to head out here soon. We’ve overstayed our welcome, and you know seasons are short.”
Viraj’s cheeks burned as he nodded shortly. Having Bastien or Ryan go into heat at the estate would be inconvenient.
With a soft grunt, Viraj stood on stiff legs. It’d been days since their guests arrived, and days since Viraj and his mates had coupled, wanting to be polite—they could get loud.
“Thank you for the lovely stay, Uncle Viraj. And keep taking your medicines. Gatlin and Teige have been told what to watch for and will call if there’s an issue.
” Bastien didn’t meet his gaze before gathering the children up in his arms, forcing them to shift; both stark naked and as roguish as any pup had a right to be. “Now, let’s go find pants.”
Faolan and Lyam huffed in annoyance as one as Viraj bid them farewell.
Viraj could agree, he’d been forced to wear pants for days. And he’d been barred from their hoard due to the mysterious desire to renovate the place. He thought it was rather comfortable.
With a soft sigh, he rose and left his office, meandering the halls in search of his brother. But the search was short, as he found him by the soft gleam of his head, standing in a hallway, posture slumped, eyes glassine. Sadness marred his face.
When Viraj approached, he swore he saw a tear for a moment before disappearing with an errant brush of fingers.
So, Viraj turned his attention to Ryan’s focus, a photograph—an old tin plate photograph.
A group of residents crowded before the old mine, smiles bright with Viraj, Teige, and Gatlin at their backs.
Christine was absent from the photo, one person he would have wanted to see more than the others.
They’d not had the technology readily available until almost forty years later, and only because the silver mined there was absolutely necessary in the process of making tin-type photography.
Constance and Thomas had been there, older, and hadn’t lived much longer after that.
They’d lived long enough to see their love become stigmatized and illegal beyond the level of Thomas being transgender.
But still, they’d raised near a dozen children, and some of their descendants still lived in Silverton.
Even Thomas’s blood son. His grandson still lived in Silverton, a wolf shifter, as he’d married into shifter blood.
Tabitha and Henry smiled back in the photo, slower aging than their human counterparts, the old snakes, but old age had claimed them a dozen years ago or so.
It seemed like everyone had gone. Edaline had passed some fifty or sixty years back, but one person out of that whole mess still lived.
Viraj cleared his throat. “How’s Anna doing? ”
Ryan smiled wickedly. “Oh, she and Casper are thriving. He inherited all of Fee’s seriousness.”
“And his penchant for troublesome partners.” Viraj laughed.
“Oh, that was all Anna, from the day he hatched. Casper was six months behind all the others learning to walk in his human form because she carried him everywhere like a stuffed toy.” Ryan matched Viraj’s laugh. “I wish they all could have found dragons to mate. That way they could live longer.”
It was so rarely done that even Casper hadn’t known his magic would keep her heart with his.
“Bastien was such a surprise.” Viraj laughed.
“Anna didn’t even know she was expecting until almost two months before he was born. Gaspard had to all but shout in her face to make her believe. And Casper… He’s so protective.”
“I hear good things about his Drakes.” Viraj sighed. “Can’t say the same for all Lochs.”
Ryan’s expression darkened. “The Dette council rejoiced when we cast that vote.”
Viraj nodded. “Teige and Gatlin cast their votes, too.”
“I know the details of the vote were secret, but two people voted for him to live.” Ryan tapped at the glass of the old photo with a wistful smile that didn’t meet the hardness in his eyes.
“Aidel Slang and Long Han.” Viraj spoke in a whisper.
An old German reprobate that had been on the wrong side of a certain toothbrush-mustached failed painter some odd hundred years back and a relatively young dragon, descended of their royal family without much financials to speak of.
Viraj figured his vote was likely purchased as a last-ditch attempt. “But you did not hear it from me.”
“Heard what? Oh, about the frames.” Ryan tapped a neatly manicured finger on the frame. “I’ll be sure to send my artwork directly to your artisan if you’ll send me his contact info.”
Viraj and Ryan nodded in silence. He likely did want the framer, and Viraj would send it. But those two names could cost Viraj his life. But if he saw those two names scratched off the census, Viraj would sleep more soundly.
“Heard from Father?” Ryan glanced over and Viraj tensed.
“Father has forgotten we exist. He knows where to find me if he ever wants to talk.” Viraj picked at his finger absentmindedly. “He ever sets foot in this country and he’ll stand before the council, though. We’ve found another of our siblings this month.”
That caught Ryan’s attention as he glanced over. “Hijada?”
“Dette.”
“Of course.” Ryan scoffed. “The second they stop being useful…”
The words hung in the air lamely.
“We’ll find a hole of nothing but bones and pins one day.” Viraj clenched his fists so hard, they popped.
Ryan hung his head. “They kept so much from us.”
They kept so much from the Dettes. The Drakes knew.
Viraj had seen the pins placed.
He’d seen the final shift.
And he’d done nothing then.
“I put a red alligator skin attaché case with your luggage.” Viraj cleared his throat. “For your guests.”
Untraceable funds that would help the Vritra escapees, as Gaspard worked on a surgery that would enable them to remove the pins safely.
Ryan nodded once. “We have new help arriving soon.”
Hijada were comfortable serving the Vritra, and they’d do anything, even life-threatening, for a chance at getting those pins removed. Some, though, had worked too deep.
Just like the poison flowing through the minds of Drakes for ages.
Bitter poison.
Even more bitter tears.