Chapter 25
Rowan
Another long day, another group of dragons helped.
The days in my clinic were starting to blur into one, but the work was rewarding.
After finishing for the day, I stumbled to the kitchen in search of food.
“Rowan!” Ma greeted me warmly, pulling me in for a hug. I leaned into the embrace for a moment, relishing it. It was nice having a maternal figure in my life again, and as I had no clue how long it would last, I had decided to enjoy it while I could.
“Hey, how’s everything going here?”
“Perfect, as always,” Nina said from where she was kneading dough.
I wandered over to her. “Do you need a hand?” As I spoke, someone else entered the kitchen, but I didn’t turn to see who.
Nina nodded. “Actually, yeah. Can you grab the—”
Her words were cut off as Bastian stormed up to me, grabbing me by the arm and turning me, nostrils flaring as he glowered at me, a rolling wave of unruly thunder.
“Off,” he growled.
“Off?” I repeated, my brows scrunching together. What did he want off? What were we talking about?
Bastian snarled at my shirt. I looked down, scanning the fabric as my heart leaped into my throat.
Had I accidentally covered myself in food?
Had I picked one with a rude slogan? It was entirely possible, considering I loved a good graphic tee from a gas station.
Still, Mr. High-and-Mighty here was acting a bit too growly for it to be something that simple.
And then I realized what I was wearing.
Griffin’s T-shirt.
I had been in a rush this morning, and since Ma still had a lot of my clothes because she’d ever so kindly insisted on washing them, I’d just grabbed a shirt out of Griff’s closet to save time.
“Oh.” I looked between Bastian and the shirt again, shrugging. “Deal with it. I couldn’t find anything else to wear. Ma’s washing my stuff.”
The Ma in question was also nearby, in the kitchen, where Bastian had cornered me. I held his stare without flinching as I tried to go about my business, turning back to Nina. It was a shirt, for fuck’s sake; he could relax.
Especially since Bastian had been nothing but an asshole since I arrived.
“Deal with—” Bastian stopped himself, his chin jutting down and back as a low rumble echoed out of his chest. His jaw muscles were so tense, I rolled my eyes.
Ugh, he really needed to—
But before I could even finish my thought, Bastian reached for the front of the shirt, grabbing a fistful of the fabric, and then, in one clean yank, which sent me stumbling into the countertop, he tore the thing off me.
I gasped, reflexively covering myself as Bastian tossed the ruined tee into the sink full of dirty dishes and brown water. The furious roar that emanated from his chest didn’t quit. I glared up at him like he’d lost his goddamn mind.
Because he absolutely had.
It didn’t escape my notice that Ma was also looking on in utter shock.
I was left standing there in nothing but my jeans and a bra.
Thankfully, my old, comfortable bras were also in desperate need of a wash, so I was wearing a black one, which—unfortunately, given the timing—made my boobs look amazing.
It perked them up expertly, giving me cleavage, no easy feat, considering I wasn't exactly well endowed in that area.
My blood was boiling, rage simmering under my skin, and to make matters worse, Bastian took off his shirt, revealing his infuriatingly sculpted chest, and held it out toward me.
“Here.” He thrust the shirt toward me, a triumphant smirk on his face that I very much wanted to smack right off.
“You think I’m going to wear that?” I asked, my brows up and my tone struggling to remain anything akin to level.
Behind him, Ma and Nina were both watching with wide eyes, neither daring to interrupt what was going on.
He raised his eyebrows pointedly, as if to say I didn't have many other options. Not only was the challenge obvious, but I could also see just how strongly Bastian believed I was going to take the shirt from him.
Only I was stubborn, painfully so.
There was no way in hell I was going to bow down to Bastian’s demands because he’d been grumpy and growly and just expected me to obey him. Maybe Emmeline would have done that, but Rowan sure as fuck wouldn't.
Straightening, I looked him dead in the eye, planting my hands on my hips. “Looks like I need to go grab another shirt, then,” I said, a purposeful, performative smile spreading across my face.
The momentary panic that filled Bastian’s eyes when it dawned on him what I was about to do was beautiful.
I allowed myself to enjoy it a moment longer before he began to open his mouth again, and I knew it was time to go.
Turning on my heel, I strode out of the kitchen and into the dining hall, perfectly okay with the idea that the room was about to get an eyeful.
I mean, it was a bra. Bikinis hardly covered as much as this one did.
The moment I walked through the door, the babble of conversation quieted significantly. It really shouldn't have been weird. Dragons were naked all the time. Yet, there were so many eyes on me as I walked through the room that the fury-fueled confidence I’d been running on began to falter.
The looks I was getting were surprised, sure, but then I realized they were also filled with something that I hated to be on the receiving end of: pity. Why would people be staring at me like I was some lost lamb or something? They had no reason to be—
My scars.
I’d actually forgotten about them because I was so furious with Bastian, but my dragon fire scars were on full display with my shirt off like this. That was why people were really staring. Boobs were nothing new around here, but dragon fire marks etched into skin?
Now that was something to see.
Ugh, dammit. I need a fucking shirt.
I searched the room for any sign of a familiar face, one I might be able to use to barter my way into a new outfit.
Hell, even if it was Griffin again, I’d go for it.
I didn’t give a shit about pissing off Bastian.
While I knew I had nothing to be ashamed of, and I had no problem being scantily clad, I was done being gawked at. I wasn’t a tourist attraction.
Then my gaze landed on a pair of familiar dragons—Orsen and, more importantly, Nix.
Bingo.
Walking over to him and doing my best to act like I didn’t have a care in the world, I placed one hand on the dining table and leaned over, clearing my throat to draw his attention to my face.
Nix’s eyes were firmly on my breasts, his mouth hanging open almost comically. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I needed a favor, so I decided going with a little sugar over vinegar would be the better option.
“Nix?” I asked sweetly.
“Uh-huh,” he said, unable to look away.
Next to me, Orsen was speechless as well, which was actually something. As much as I could tell that he was enjoying the unobstructed view of my chest, there was no mistaking the way his eyes dropped to the scars. But unlike everyone else’s pity, anger burned like dim embers behind his eyes.
And something about that was kind of nice. It was an I’ll make whoever did that pay instead of pity, and I had to admit I appreciated the change in pace. But I shook my head, refocusing on Nix.
“Shirt?” I asked pointedly, nodding at Nix’s chest.
“Oh, sure!”
Nix leaped into action, pulling his shirt over his head in a flash and standing to help me put it on, which, of course, I didn’t need, but the action was undeniably adorable.
I didn’t miss that I was taking Nix’s shirt easily, where I’d rejected Bastian’s, and that knowledge made me grin all the more as Nix’s tee came over my head, surrounding me in his woodsy scent.
With it on, the room very abruptly went back to what it was doing. I looked across the hall at the door to the kitchen. Bastian stood there, definitely having seen everything. I gave him a curt smile and then sat down next to Nix.
“Thirsty?”
I glanced across the table at Orsen, who held up a can of soda, wearing a smile that I could only describe as proud. Rolling my eyes, I took the can, cracking it open and taking a long swig.
Nix and Orsen chuckled to themselves, but I didn’t care.
Despite Bastian’s move, I’d been the one to come out the other side having maintained my autonomy.
It felt damn good, if I was honest with myself.
I hadn’t yielded to him or let him push me around, and even his clanmates were silently cheering me on.
Ha, take that, grumpy butt.
I relaxed increasingly with each passing second and enjoyed my drink with Orsen and Nix. Both regarded me with nods, the corners of their mouths turned slightly up. They were impressed with me, proud, and I reveled in that feeling for as long as I could.
“Rowan! Causing chaos?” Griffin asked as he sank into the seat next to Orsen.
“Yes, but she’s being a badass while doing it.” Orsen smirked.
Griff pursed his lips. “Sounds about right.” The pair smiled at each other.
“You two are being awfully buddy-buddy, considering recent events,” I pointed out with a raised brow.
“Eh.” Griff waved off my concern. “We’re dragons. Possessive fucks. We also forgive and forget.”
Orsen snorted. “To a degree. You’re getting plenty of apology gifts.”
A dazzling smile took over Griff’s face as he stole my soda, taking a swig despite my protests. “Oh yeah, my new cabin is going to be amazing.”
I looked between the two of them, and it dawned on me that both of these dragons were honestly okay with their situation. Griffin didn’t seem to be holding a grudge. Usually, I would insist I had enough bitterness in my heart to hold a grudge for both of us, but that resolve was starting to wane.
“Well, I haven’t forgiven you yet,” I said primly, making everyone at the table laugh at just how insincere my words sounded.
Nix threw his arm around me. “Give us time, Rowan. But if you want to take your top off again to piss off Bastian, I am totally okay with that.” He nodded enthusiastically. Orsen even hummed in agreement.
“Pigs.” I shoved him lightly, unable to stop the bubble of laughter escaping me.
Just like that, our bickering was forgotten, and for the rest of the meal, we fell into easy conversation over good food.
Bastian, the grump, was nowhere to be seen, probably off sulking somewhere.