Chapter 11
Nix
Bastian looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“She’s really here. Right in that room.” He stared down the corridor, his hands balling into fists.
“There’s no point hanging around in the hall like a bunch of creeps,” Orsen said, jerking his head toward the library.
I had to bite back a smile. He wanted to be close to our mate, and who could blame him?
“I need to see her,” Bastian growled, taking a step toward the door.
Orsen grabbed him by the bicep, stopping him in his tracks. “Trust me, I’m right there with you, but I really fucked it up. We need to give her some space. She’s not going anywhere.”
“She’s exhausted,” I added, giving him a pleading look. “Let her rest.”
Bastian grumbled, rolling his eyes. “She seemed pissed, not tired.”
“Oh yeah, she’s got some extra fire in her now.
You see those scratches on Orsen’s face?
” I nodded at our clanmate, who still had angry red marks on his cheek.
They had been deep enough to bleed, but given how fast dragons heal, they were just distinct marks now.
By the morning, they would have vanished entirely.
“What’d you do to deserve them?” Greylen raised a brow, his arms crossed, body tense.
He was the only one of us who hadn’t laid eyes on our mate, so I got it. If I were him, I’d be as stiff as a steel rod.
Even now, everything in me wanted to rush into the room where Emmeline was sleeping, scoop her up, and hold her close. She was right there, after six years of being gone, and I didn’t want her so much as an inch from me.
Orsen glared at Grey, though, mirroring his posture. “I know Nix has already tattled on me.”
“Tattled?” I chuckled, the first real laugh since seeing Emmeline. “What are we, four? Our clanmates needed to know you were being a butthead and scaring our mate.”
Orsen scoffed. “Butthead?”
“Forget all that. Are we sure it’s her?” Bastian’s jaw was tight as he ran a hand through his hair. “It seems a little convenient, doesn’t it? Just as the other hordes start putting pressure on us to take a mate, she suddenly appears.”
“What are you insinuating?” Orsen snapped.
I held up my hands, encouraging the two of them to go back to their corners. “It’s her. Even if Emmeline had a twin we knew nothing about, we wouldn’t feel the same pull. I don’t know about you, Bash, but I feel it, as vibrant as before. And, well, it’s kind of obvious that Orsen does…”
The tips of Orsen’s ears turned red, and he scowled at me.
Good, he should have been embarrassed about how he’d behaved with our mate, even if he was going to respond to that with no shortage of anger.
A mate was meant to be treasured, worshipped, and as much as I knew how he’d been with Emmy before, the situation was different now. He needed to rein it the hell in.
“I feel it,” Bastian admitted, his voice quiet as his eyes found the floor. “She acted like she didn’t even know me. She was holding…”
He shook himself, not finishing. But I could imagine that it had something to do with Griffin.
And despite him trying to hide it, it was clear he was upset.
Even the smallest perceived rejection from a mate could feel like the end of the world to a dragon, especially one like him—or Orsen.
Hell, I was doing my best to keep a level head, to understand that Emmeline was even more confused than we were.
But it wasn’t easy.
We sat in the library, silent for a moment, all of us lost in our own thoughts, before I said what had been haunting me since I first saw her.
“What happened to her? We need to understand what she’s been through, but I don’t know how to start going about getting answers.”
“She’s safe with us for now, that’s all that matters. We can find out the rest in time,” Greylen reasoned. “But… you know who probably has some answers? Griffin.”
Orsen frowned, his jaw tight. “I don’t like it. Why the hell do we have to go to a dragon who isn’t a member of our clan for information about our mate?”
“Orsen, I love you, man, but kindly remove the stick from your ass.” Greylen eyed him, not concerned with pissing him off in the slightest. “I want answers, don’t you? Yeah, so don’t be so damn prideful that you’re above asking for help.”
Our disgruntled clanmate looked between us for a moment, seeing that he was getting no support from Bastian or me, and threw his hands up in surrender.
“Fucking fine. We’ll talk to Griffin.”
Outside Griffin’s room, Ma had made herself comfortable. She sat in a large armchair in the hallway, her feet on a stool, knitting, the picture of a concerned mama dragon. I chuckled, knowing full well she had corralled a few of the younger dragons to bring the furniture for her.
“We want to see Griffin,” Bastian said as we approached.
Ma put down her knitting, giving him a pointedly unhappy look. “Hello to you, too, Bastian. I swear, you boys are losing all your manners! Griffin is resting.” She turned to Orsen. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I have never been so disappointed in you!”
Standing, she jammed a finger in Orsen’s chest. She was smaller than him by at least a head, but every dragon feared their mother, and Orsen was no different, even if he hid it behind annoyance. Orsen was her only biological child, but she acted like a mother to all of us.
“I think we can all agree these are extenuating circumstances,” Bastian said, stepping toward Ma, his hands up.
“Of course they are, but there is never, never an excuse to attack a member of your horde! I consider the four of you my boys, and I would be equally disappointed if any of you behaved like that.”
Orsen’s face paled as he looked at the floor, his patented emotional shutdown at work.
“I may have acted without thinking, and I shouldn’t have. But I need to know what’s happening. We all do. Griff may have some answers.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I promise I’m not a threat to him, Ma. Just want to talk.”
Ma watched her son intently for a moment. “You better not hurt him again, because if you do, I don’t give a hoot that you’re Alpha. You’re never too old to get a whooping from your mother. Plus, she’ll never forgive you.”
She looked at all of us while speaking, the anger in her gaze making me shrivel up a little inside. I hated to make her mad. Ma could be terrifying when she wanted to be.
And I was all about keeping this horde happy, especially her. If you needed something, all you had to do was ask me. I’d play fetch and make it happen. So the fact she was upset with all of us stung something fierce.
“Just a few minutes,” Orsen assured her.
“Ten. That’s all you get. He needs to rest because of you.” Ma glowered, picking up her knitting once again and gesturing idly for us to enter the room.
“Whose room is this?” I asked as we filtered in, wondering aloud because my nerves were going haywire.
“I think it used to belong to one of the seconds. It’s been empty for a while. I suppose that’s why they decided to keep Griffin here tonight,” Greylen offered, already more knowledgeable than the rest of us, even though he just got back, but that was hardly new.
“They’re moving me to Doc’s place in the morning,” Griffin called out, and my attention went solidly to the dragon propped up in the bed.
He was a mess. Face black and blue, a busted lip, and a nasty cut around his eye. I’d felt guilty before, but seeing him now was a kick to the nuts. Orsen had gone apeshit on the guy.
“Shit… Griff…” Orsen sounded strangled.
I glanced over, seeing the tension all over his face for myself. It was one thing to know he’d hurt him, but getting a good look at the damage was visceral. Still, it felt oddly reassuring to see him visibly affected by his own handiwork.
Not as soulless as he might seem.
“That was brutal, even for you, Orsen.” Griff chuckled weakly.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I just…”
“Overreacted?” Griff supplied, his brows up.
Orsen nodded once, his jaw tight. “Yes. I don’t know what happened. My vision went red and I lost control of my body. All I could think about was her. And unfortunately… we still need answers. How do you know Emmeline?”
“Are you sure it’s her?” Griffin asked with a frown. “You went straight to punching. I honestly thought you’d lost your damn mind.”
Orsen tensed, seeming to nearly snap at Griff.
But the guy had every right to be pissed at the Alpha.
Orsen could cool it and let him be snippy with him for a while.
I stood near the grump, putting my hand on his bicep.
Adjusting, his jaw muscles standing out as he bit back his words, Orsen nodded, taking a few breaths before I answered for him.
“Of course it is. I would recognize her anywhere. And, needless to say, we were all surprised when we came home to find you and our half-dressed mate, who we assumed was dead, in your room. Orsen… Well, he’s sorry he lost his shit.”
Griffin sighed, scanning over us all, thinking through his words. “I met her five years ago. Her name is Rowan Doe. She has zero memory of her life before six years ago. Hence, the last name Doe—she genuinely has no clue who the fuck you are, who she is, any of it. She’s a blank slate.”
“How?” Orsen frowned, shaking his head as he took a step forward. “How did she lose her memory?”
Griffin paused, leaning farther back against the cushions, his face full of conflicting emotions. “That’s her story to tell, but I’m not sure she should stay here.”
“She’s my mate. She’ll fucking stay here,” Bastian growled, and I was only surprised that he beat Orsen to it.
Rolling his eyes, Griffin shook his head.
“You know what? Fine. Someone tried to kill her, damn near succeeded. Rowan woke up in a ditch six years ago, with horrific burns and no memory of who she was or where she came from. A healer named Kiki found her, the elder from the Southern Dust Lands Horde. She nursed Rowan back to health, and eventually, Rowan took an interest in healing.”