Chapter 6
A few days later, Rogan considered his mate as they sat on the patio overlooking Wyvern. He could tell Brooks was getting antsy with nothing to do. He would have to think of something new for his mate to do.
“How did you earn money as you traveled around?” Rogan asked casually.
“It didn’t take much to survive. I did a bit of everything. My favorite job was in Wyvern. I was in charge of supplies in a warehouse. You know, tracking where all the supplies were and how many items were in that area.”
A picture of his lair popped into Rogan’s mind. He had the location of every single piece of his treasure memorized. Brooks didn’t need to know that.
“Really? I might have a job for you. That is, if you’re interested.” Rogan dangled the opportunity in front of his mate.
“What is it? I don’t like to sit around a lot.” Brooks sat up straight in his chair.
“Let me show you.” Rogan stood and led Brooks into the mansion. He headed toward the more rustic part of the house built into his mountain. Stopping at a blank section of wall, he pressed several seemingly random spots. The rumble of grinding wheels reached them.
A passage slowly opened in front of them. Rogan reached out a hand to Brooks and led him inside the dark entrance. “Stand right there. I’ll light a torch,” he told his mate as the gears restarted, closing the room.
“I’m not moving,” Brooks promised.
Igniting the first torch, Rogan lit the closest to them. The pools of light revealed a section of the chamber. Brooks scanned the illuminated area.
“Is that a pile of gold?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea how much that is worth?” Brooks asked.
“I have a good idea.”
“What’s the job? Counting that pile?” Brooks joked.
“No. Weighing it would be much more efficient. I thought you might start with the weaponry.”
“Weaponry? Like guns?”
“Think older,” Rogan suggested.
“Spears?” Brooks guessed.
“Totally uncollectible. Wood disintegrates. Let me show you.” Rogan led Brooks to a small outer chamber and lit the torch in that section.
When Brooks sneezed, Rogan regretted the dust in that section. Too much time had passed since he was in this room. Silvery hilts and ornately carved scabbards dimly reflected the light under the weight of the grime that had settled on the weaponry.
“No way. Those are swords. Is there a light saber room hidden in here somewhere?” Brooks demanded.
“They shatter too quickly,” Rogan told him, shaking his head. “And they are worthless in a battle.”
“You know how to fight?”
“Of course.”
“Could you teach me?” Brooks asked.
“Yes. But only if you get these organized and counted for me.”
“Do you need pictures for insurance?” Brooks asked.
“Dragon. No insurance needed.”
“Oh, yeah. Anyone who tried to rob you is nuts.”
Brooks scanned the weaponry and asked, “Can you give me a brief lesson on types of swords so I can classify them? There are different types, right?”
Rogan showed him examples of claymores, sabers, rapiers, broadswords, and many more. Most were already grouped into categories, but a few had wandered into the wrong section. Rogan loved Brooks’s quick mind. He was curious and loved learning.
“Hey! This one still has blood on it,” Brooks called, holding up a Katana.
Lifting it to his nose, Rogan sniffed at the last dusty remnants on the blade. “Mine. I remember this sword. The guy appeared, dressed all in black, like a ninja. He tried to climb up the mountain face but got stuck on one wicked outcropping of rock.”
“Did you save him?”
“I flew by and flapped my wings to dislodge him.”
“You knocked him down the cliff?”
“He was coming to steal my treasure,” Rogan reminded him. “With that sword. I don’t think he intended that weapon to be a tribute or trade. Especially when he got in a lucky shot as I flew by and struck a place where I’d lost a scale. I took his sword for that and dropped him a few hundred miles away.”
“That seems fair,” Brooks said with a nod and got to work sorting and classifying the weaponry.
“Wait. Wear these,” Rogan directed, handing Brooks a pair of metal-mesh gloves. “The edges are sharp.” His mate rolled his eyes but followed directions.
They worked well together. Rogan took advantage of the close environment to kiss and caress Brooks often. After a couple hours, they had many groupings stacked together. Rogan was impressed. Brooks had excellent ideas.
When Brooks sneezed five times in a row and had trouble catching his breath, Rogan knew they had been in the dusty chamber for too long. “Time to stop for the day.”
“But we have more to do,” Brooks pointed out.
“We have many days to work on it. For today, this is a good start.” Rogan wrapped his arm around Brooks’s waist and guided him out of the lair.
Once back in the hallway, Rogan looked down at his clothes. They were both completely filthy. “Time to get all this dust off. Think you can lead us to our room?”
“No problem,” Brooks said confidently. “I’ve got the place memorized.”
Impressively, Brooks only took a few wrong turns before reaching the bedroom. “This place is monstrous,” he commented before sneezing a couple more times.
“We’ve got to get you dusted. Come on.” Rogan shooed Brooks into the bathroom. He turned on the water as he addressed Brooks’ previous statement. “The house is immense. You did a great job getting us around. I’m impressed.”
Rogan tugged Brooks’s shirt over his head. “I’ll dump our clothes in the tub, so we don’t spread this everywhere.”
When he unbuttoned his mate’s jeans, Rogan noticed he pulled away slightly before relaxing and allowing Rogan to undress him. “Thank you, Brooks. I enjoy taking care of you.”
In a few minutes, he had revealed his mate’s toned frame. “Jump in the shower and let the water rinse over you as I get these clothes off.”
Brooks groaned in delight as the shower pelted down on him. “How do you have warm water?”
“There’s an old-fashioned, fire-fueled water heater in the basement. It existed way before all the electric and gas-powered ones came about.”
“You held onto it all this time?” Brooks asked in disbelief.
“Dragons are notorious for hoarding things.” Rogan grabbed a tube from the drawer before heading into the shower.
“The floors a little slippery from the slurry of dust and water. Be careful,” Brooks warned him, moving to the side so Rogan could step under the showerhead. The swirl of water over the tiles turned black immediately.
“Ugh! Now I really want to get clean,” Rogan said.
“Let me help.” Brooks grabbed some soap and spread it over Rogan’s back. His fingers lingered on his mate’s skin longer than necessary, much to Rogan’s appreciation.
“That feels very good,” Rogan encouraged.
“Turn around. Let me get your chest,” Brooks requested.
Rogan faced him, allowing his adventurous mate free rein. Brooks’ hands lingered on his shoulders and on the ridges in his abdomen. How far would he go? Rogan could see that Brooks’s body responded to the contact as quickly as his own did. Rogan held his breath as his mate smoothed the soap lower.
When his hand closed around Rogan’s erection, Rogan groaned in delight. “I crave your touch. More, Adventurer. Stroke me harder.” Rogan wrapped his hand around Brooks’s and showed him what he enjoyed the most. “Yes. Like that.”
When he battled staying in control, Rogan gently tugged Brooks’s hand away. “You’ll make me come. I would rather spill inside you.”
Even under the residual dust streaking Brooks’s face, Rogan saw his mate blush. More telling was the jerk of his cock against Rogan’s thigh. He grabbed some soap, eager to get his hands on his mate. “It’s your turn.”
After carefully washing his mate’s grimy face, Rogan took care of his own. He kissed his mate, fueling the growing ardor between them. Rogan loved the man’s taste. He was addictive. Tangling his tongue with Brooks, Rogan challenged him and celebrated when his mate responded eagerly.
While eager to enjoy the temptation his mate provided, Rogan forced himself to back up slightly. “I need to get you clean first. I’ll start with your hair and work down.”
Pouring shampoo on Brooks’s scalp, he massaged the suds through the silky brown hair. It was a bit shaggy and uneven. “We need to ask Lalani to cut your hair.”
“I did it myself last time. I can hack it off.”
“Are you okay with Lalani cutting it? She enjoys taking care of people,” Rogan asked.
“Sure. I just don’t want to bother her.”
“I’ll check before I schedule anything,” Rogan promised. “Now, lean back and let me rinse away the shampoo.”
With that finished, he moved on to Brooks’ chest. Stroking soap over his skin, Rogan felt a raised, rough patch on Brooks’s skin a second before he heard his mate hiss in distress. Rogan turned him into the water, rinsing his skin clean.
“That stung,” Brooks explained. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I think you’re having a reaction. Could these be hives all over your skin?”
“Yeah, probably. I’ve gotten them in the past. I’m allergic to dust.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rogan demanded.
“I wanted to help. It’s okay. I’ll take an allergy pill, and it will be better.”
“Do you have any of those pills?”
“I don’t think I grabbed them.”
Rogan shook his head. His mate was going to be in such trouble after they got this handled. First, he had to get the rest of the dust off. “This is going to sting. I’ll use the gentlest soap I have.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
Right. Rogan sent a message to his horde, asking for someone to bring a doctor as he washed his mate quickly as he stood under the spray before finishing his own shower and shampoo. Drake answered immediately that he was in the city center and would bring someone quickly.
As he ushered Brooks out of the shower, his mate pointed to the tube of lubricant now balanced on the shower railing. “Aren’t we going to…”
“First medicine, then pleasure,” Rogan answered as he patted his mate’s skin dry. The welts were getting bigger.
“This is worse than I’ve had it before. Can you take me to my grandma’s house for my meds?”
“The doctor is coming.”
“Really? By horse? You’re probably faster.”
Rogan could tell his mate was worried. His breathing was becoming raspy.
We’re here.
Drake’s message pushed back Rogan’s growing concern. He answered quickly, Coming!
Rogan grabbed a towel and wrapped Brooks inside before scooping him up and running toward the front of the mansion. His staff was already on alert from the gold dragon landing outside. His housekeeper held the door open.
“Doctor. Thank you for coming,” Rogan called as he ran forward. “My mate is having an allergic reaction and doesn’t have his tablets.”
The doctor took one look at Brooks as Rogan set him on his feet in front of him. He grabbed his bag, saying, “It’s good you called for help. Pills aren’t going to treat this.” He quickly drew a shot.
“This is best in his buttocks,” the doctor said.
Rogan turned Brooks around and whipped the towel to the side to expose his bottom.
“Hey!” Brooks protested before adding, “Ouch!” as the doctor administered the shot.
“You’re okay, Brooks,” Rogan assured him, before asking the doctor, “How long will it take?”
“It should be fast. We should see the hives fade as it takes effect. Brooks, I’m going to listen to your lungs. I don’t like the sound of your breathing.”
“I’m okay,” Brooks rasped.
“Let the doctor check you out, Adventurer,” Rogan told him.
A few minutes later, the doctor plucked the earpieces away and slung the instrument around his shoulders. “We’ll give that medicine a bit of time to act. It will make Brooks extremely tired for the next twelve to twenty-four hours. How is the itch, young man?”
“I think it’s better,” Brooks said.
“Your voice sounds better. That worried me,” the doctor admitted before noting, “The redness is starting to fade. I think he’s on the mend.”
Brooks swayed, and Rogan immediately pulled him to his side to steady him. “Will he need any more treatment?”
“I’ll leave some pills for him. We could benefit from restocking some essential medical supplies before everything is exhausted,” the doctor suggested. “The pharmacists have inventoried all the supplies around Wyvern. They could give you a list of needed drugs.”
“Good idea. I’ll touch base with them tomorrow,” Drake promised, stepping forward to handle that request. “When you’re ready, Doctor, I’ll take you back.”
“My kids are going to be so envious of me. Thank you for making me a superstar,” the doctor joked.
“Thank you for coming, Doctor,” Rogan said, glancing away from his mate.
“My pleasure. Mates are important. Here are some pills. The shot will work for the next twelve hours. If Brooks still has hives, give him a pill every four hours until they disappear. He’ll need to go to bed. Make him rest. Push fluids.”
“I will follow your directions,” Rogan said, accepting the pills.
“Dust caused this?” the doctor asked.
“Yes.”
“Mitigate that as much as possible,” the doctor directed.
Rogan nodded. He understood this was his fault. “Thank you again, doctor. I owe you. Your family may call on me when you need assistance.”
The doctor appeared moved by this invaluable promise. “Thank you, Rogan. My congratulations on finding your mate. This will only be one thing you discover about each other.”
Rogan understood the learned man acknowledged this was simply an unfortunate event and not Rogan’s fault. He nodded to thank the doctor before turning to the gold dragon.
Drake, I also owe you one.
You would do the same for me. Take care of your mate. Aurora and I look forward to spending time with you both soon.
Soon, Rogan promised, whisking his yawning mate up into his arms. He turned and carried him into the mansion. There was a special room waiting for Brooks he hadn’t seen yet.