CHAPTER 91
DAKOTA
Jonah pours tea with careful hands and talks about dogs to Aggie. Rabbit sits by Jonah’s side and blushes, laughing at everything he says, and Dottie shoots me wry looks as if to say “Are you seeing this?”
I am. I can’t decide if it’s adorable or if I want to snatch Rabbit up and take her home because she’s supposed to be my baby.
I do think it’s cute, but the mother in me is a little afraid to see her grow up.
Thess leans in as the conversation continues.
“I’m not sure how long Samir is going to be gone for. He said he’d be here.”
“I’m sure he can’t help it if someone got sick,” I whisper back to her. “We don’t mind waiting around.”
She glances at Murr. “I know Vaan wished to greet Murtades when he arrived, and so did Mhal. Are you interested in talking to them while we wait?”
I eye my big husband. To my surprise, he seems a bit nervous. He rubs his jaw, considering, and I could swear I feel anxiety radiating from him. “Murr…no talk good,” he confesses. “Not like Thess.”
“You talk amazing,” I tell him, my hand on his back. “Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”
There’s a surge of emotion from him that I can practically feel.
“We have all had to learn human speech,” Thess says gently. “Some of us are just faster than others. They will not judge you for it. None of us have the mental connection anymore, remember?”
The reminder seems to settle some of his nerves. I reach for his hand. “Want me to come with?”
He nods.
“We’ll be fine, Mom,” Rabbit calls over, surprising me. I didn’t realize she was listening in on the conversation—I’ve been so attuned to Murr. “If it’s okay with Jonah, we’ll stay here.”
“I would love the company,” Jonah says, his head turned toward Rabbit.
My daughter blushes, ducking her head. Ugh. I’m torn between going over to give her a kiss atop the head or just pulling her away from him entirely, which isn’t rational. I squeeze Murr’s hand and turn to him. “They’re in good hands. Let’s go meet your friends.”
He nods, still looking nervous. Other than Thess, are these the first dragons he’s ‘met’ since he came to our world?
Is he worried that he’s going to meet them and think Thess has been lying and everyone can mind-speak but him?
Or is it just nerves in general, like I get at the thought of meeting a bunch of strangers? I hope it’s the latter.
Thess leads us out of Jonah’s home and crosses briskly through the muddy streets of Fort Dallas.
Her bare feet squish through the mud, the hem of her dress flirting with the muck closely enough that it gives me anxiety.
Murr has my backpack slung over his shoulder, his kilt around his hips, and his free hand is tight in mine.
Even though he walks confidently at my side, I suspect he’s skimming the skies, looking for others that are more “dragon” than he is.
What a number his isolation has done to him, I think sympathetically.
Then again, none of us are whole after the Rift upended our worlds. We just show it in different ways.
A dragon shadow drifts overhead, causing me to automatically glance up. I get a brief glimpse of the dragon, his scales a slightly different gold than Murr’s, his tail not as long, his body not as thick. “You’re bigger,” I say to my man. “Not that it’s a contest.”
But Murr is more impressive in form, and I want him to know that. I want him to realize he’s just as dragon-y as anyone else.
He chuckles at my words and gives my hand an affectionate shake, as if sensing the loyalty behind my commentary. “Strong male,” is all he says. “Good protect.”
“You’re an excellent protector, too. The best protector.”
Murr beams at me as the male dragon lands.
I have to admit I feel a quiver of terror as it gracefully descends, the massive head and golden eyes similar to Murr and yet so very foreign.
Not a year ago, dragons were still flaming the landscape and tearing up our world.
We’d cower in protected spots several times a week, waiting for dragonfire to stop raining down.
Now I’m holding hands with one and waiting to greet another. It’s a strange situation.
Thess waves at the other dragon as he tucks his wings in and curls his tail around his body. I notice a few people sticking their heads out of their homes to see what’s going on, and none of them look frightened, which is a good sign. Dragons are normal to them in the fort, now, too.
The male dragon shifts and then a lean man a slightly paler gold than Murr’s strides forward. He’s got a shorter thatch of crazy-thick golden hair that spikes over his head, and his eyes are spaced more widely apart, giving an almost calm, zen look to his features.
“Join us, Vaan,” Thess says, urging me and Murr forward. “We are going to the cafeteria to feed Murr’s mate. Where is your Gwen?”
Oh, are we going to the cafeteria? And who is Gwen? I shoot Thess an anxious look. “I ate before I got here. It’s fine—”
“We feed everyone in the fort,” she says cheerfully, as if this is her decision. “We will sit, you will eat, and we drakoni will reacquaint ourselves.”
The dragon-man known as Vaan strolls forward and holds a hand out to us. “I am Vaan,” he says, and I can’t help but notice that he swallows all his syllables, as if he has a hard time making his mouth do what he wants it to do. “I have heard good things about you, Murtades.”
“Remember Thess,” Murr says after a moment, grasping Vaan’s hand in the most awkward handshake imaginable. “No remember Vaan.”
“We make new memory today,” Vaan says, as if that answers everything.