Chapter 4
Beck
My gaze flits around the table, my heart feeling fuller with each burst of rumbustious laughter from my friends as they discuss their characters while snacking on foods I prepared.
For so long, I’ve felt lonely, but something has shifted in Starry Hill over the last year or so, and even if Arran and I have not found life partners like Bodin and Ren have, there’s a wholeness in our community, and in particular, in this friendship—this brotherhood—that eases that ache of loneliness.
Arran leans back in his seat and runs a hand over his cropped reddish-brown hair. The shade reminds me of Eleanor’s, but it’s nowhere near as vibrant or lustrous as hers.
“This has certainly turned into more fun of an evening than I could have predicted,” the vampire states with almost a question hovering at the end of the sentence.
My brows dip into a frown as I try to decipher the meaning of the statement while awaiting confirmation from the other two that they, too, are equally surprised by the level of fun they’ve had in my home.
Ren lazes back and slips his hands in his hoodie pockets as he shoots me a reassuring smile. “I agree. I’ve always wanted to try playing Knights and Castles but I honestly didn’t think anyone else would be into it.”
Bodin nods and pats me on the shoulder in what I would consider an affectionate way. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even know this game existed. And while we’re being honest, if you were to explain it to me in any other setting, I don’t think I would’ve given it a shot. Thank you, Beck.”
My chest swells with pride and I can’t even attempt to fight the smile quirking at my lips as I dip my head in acknowledgment of their praise.
Arran drains his beer and lowers the glass with a thunk on the table. “We are in agreement there too, young orc. Never did I think I’d find so much enjoyment in designing my own character and determining his ability scores in a make-believe world.”
I refill Arran’s glass and raise my own to his. “It really means so much to me to have you here, all three of you, and that you appreciate the quests and adventures we’ll go on. As Game Master, I promise to do my utmost best to design the most adventurous campaign for our knights.”
Ren and Bodin join their glasses to ours in a hearty salute, and that inexplicable bubble of happiness in my chest gets even bigger.
Throughout the evening, all three of my guests have enjoyed their beer along with their snacks, getting more relaxed with each passing hour.
I, however, have been nursing the same glass since they arrived, too preoccupied with explaining the game and not wanting my brain to be clouded by alcohol.
I may have also positioned myself with a perfect view of the darkened dock beyond my window, keeping an eye out for Eleanor.
My dragon lifts his snout and sniffs the air, also keeping a surreptitious lookout for any trace of Eleanor’s lavender scent. Despite still being annoyed with me, he’s not gone back to sleep since she’s set foot on the island.
I’m going to try to do better this time, I promise him and myself, both of us eager to right my wrongs.
Ren draws my attention back to the table with a certain glint in his eye, his gaze also flicking to the window for a second as if he knows exactly where my mind has gone. “Where did you learn to play Knights and Castles?”
Thankful not to expose the obvious direction of my thoughts, I dip my chin at Ren.
“In boarding school,” I say, rolling a d20 die between my fingers.
“We were in a pretty isolated location, more so than Starry Hill. Some students chose to sneak off into the forest and get up to mischief in our free time, but a few of us preferred to get lost in worlds where we didn’t have to be the scary creatures everyone feared, but rather knights on quests to save our realm. ”
Bodin elbows me a little sloppily. “Or a pretty damsel, or two.”
An image of holding Eleanor in my armored arms after saving her from some awful calamity fills my mind. “There was definitely some of that thought too.”
Arran palms the table and stares intently at us. “When can we meet again? Surely we aren’t doing this once a month when the females have their scheduled events? I have plans for my knight.”
“Can we meet weekly?” Ren asks.
I aim for my nod not to look too eager. “I’d like that.”
“Saturday nights work for everyone?” Bodin suggests, getting to his feet a little unsteadily before stacking our empty dishes and plopping them in the sink with slightly more force than expected.
I didn’t keep track of how many beers he had, but I’d wager to say he might be a little under the influence.
“Sounds good to me,” Ren says, clearing the rest of the table before Bodin can come back and try to do it.
Arran hangs back and lowers his voice. “Is it difficult to get dice like this?”
“You mean the d20? Not really. I can get you some next time I head into Cape Easton for a supply run.”
Lowering his voice even further, Arran asks, “Can I borrow it? Until next Saturday?” It’s not like Bodin and Ren can’t hear him, not with their equally sensitive senses, but many of us have gotten good at pretending we can’t in order to give others a modicum of privacy.
For a second, I admire the die’s pearlescent hues, so similar to my dragon’s scales, and the golden numbers engraved into them.
This specific die was a birthday present I gave myself years ago, a one-of-a-kind design.
But I don’t want to burden Arran with that sentimental knowledge, our strengthening friendship is more important to me.
“Sure,” I say, placing the die in his hand. “Though you have to promise to bring it back next week. It’s integral to the game.”
“I will guard it carefully,” Arran says as he turns the die over, his thumb gliding over each side as he studies it.
Bodin shuffles to the door and a somewhat goofy grin pulls at his mouth, making his tusks look more prominent than usual.
“Thanks for a great evening. I really had fun with you boys. But now my wife needs me to carry her home and make sweet, sweet love to her until the early morning. Or maybe I need her to make love to me? But loving shall be had,” he declares, looking damn near jolly at the thought.
“Maybe tonight is the night I put a baby in her. Wouldn’t that be great?
Tilly would look so beautiful carrying our child.
She’d—” And like a switch has been flipped, Bodin straightens up, his eyes clearing and his skin blanching to a lighter shade of green.
He doesn’t say anything else, just opens the door and disappears into the night on swift, steady feet.
None of us even deems to wager what that’s about, then Arran and Ren are off while I’m left alone with my thoughts, waiting anxiously for Eleanor.
I pace up and down my living room, peering out each window facing the southern hills—from where Eleanor, Audrey, and Viggo will approach to go back to Cape Easton.
My heart’s in my throat as I debate how I should approach Eleanor, practicing what I should say, and wondering if I should even say anything at all.
Maybe it’s better if I let Eleanor go on with her life as is. Without me.
After all, it’s been over two decades and she’s been fine. I’ve been fine.
My dragon huffs his frustration at my indecision and pushes against my chest, clearly determined to make his opinion heard. Throughout my life, we’ve often been at odds, typically only agreeing on Starry Hill and our love for the ocean.
But then I look up and see Eleanor as she comes down the hill, arm hooked through Audrey’s and a broad grin on her face as she laughs at something the other woman said.
I think back to the game I’ve designed for my friends and, as Game Master, wonder how I’d encourage the knights to challenge themselves with this chance encounter.
Scales flash down my back and my arms, my feet already moving before my mind has fully processed what I’m going to say. I simply can’t waste the opportunity to talk to her at least once more in this lifetime. On this fact, my dragon and I are very much aligned.