Chapter 2 Theron
TWO
THERON
The kitchen smelled like burnt toast, but it wasn’t the scorched scent that me or my dragon craved.
“It was Fraser.” Rory stood by the counter with his arms folded, looking exactly like me when I was annoyed.
“It was not.” Fraser, my six-year-old, had jam on his chin and toast crumbs in his hair. He’d poked out his bottom lip, but I didn’t sense any remorse. “Rory dared me.”
“You were supposed to make toast, not set the toaster on fire.”
“I didn't use fire.” Frazer stamped his foot and looked at me. “Not much.”
I pulled out the charred remains from the toaster and dropped them in the garbage disposal.
The toaster was new, or it had been. Now it was a smoking, hissing remnant of a machine.
I felt sorry for it because it would never realize its potential.
The last device had gone up in flames too, but that was Rory, my eldest’s, fault.
“What did I say about using fire in the house?”
"Not to.” Fraser’s bottom lip trembled. “Never ever,” he added. His words mimicked mine because that was what I said all the time. It was a house rule my kids had memorized but sometimes chose to ignore.
Skye watched us as she sat at the table eating cereal. I hoped she wasn’t assessing my level of annoyance and deciding whether she could get away with burning something down.
It was time for my children to wear their bracelets, the ones young dragon shifters wore before they met their beast when they had the ability to produce fire but not to control it.
Some dragon families refused to put them on their kids, and they were the same people whose houses burned down and had the human authorities breathing down their necks.
I saw the bracelets as a necessity, like training wheels. They tamped down that urge to create flames no matter where or when. Once they could communicate with their beast, they’d be able to temper that desire.
The kids could still heat up and feel the fire with the bracelets on, but they couldn’t produce it externally. They’d worn them previously when we’d been out and about with humans, and especially in situations such as on a plane where any spark would be a disaster.
“I’m interviewing the new manny today.” I wrinkled my nose, not because of the interview but from the stink of charred bread.
Rory groaned. “Another one? Why?”
“Because the last one ran off.”
“He cried.” Fraser demonstrated by pretending to blubber and yelling, “I can’t stand this anymore.”
The guy had been scared off because Skye had asked him if he was fireproof.
I couldn’t blame him for leaving. Besides, he was constantly sweating and walked around bare-chested.
He’d lasted two weeks, and the one before him, ten days.
We’d had no luck finding someone who could manage my kids and adjust to our household.
But I couldn’t have my children thinking it was okay to mock someone. I placed a hand on Fraser’s shoulder. “We mustn’t make fun of someone when they’re frightened. Remember that book we read about the old house and how you didn’t like it and were scared?”
“Yes, Daddy,” all three children chorused.
I supervised the next round of toast and poured my third coffee of the morning while the kids ate.
Meara had called me after the last resignation. She was adept at managing difficult clients, and our family was definitely in that category.
“Theron, I'm running out of candidates who meet your requirements.” She hadn't added “and who won't be terrified of your children,” but I'd heard it in her voice.
This new candidate she was sending us was different, and when she told me he was human with no knowledge of shifters, I’d shut her down.
“No way.” The previous ones understood who we were and they still left. “The others were wolf, bear, and fox shifters, and they were terrified they'd die in a fiery ball of flames or drown in a puddle of sweat.”
“This one, Ledger, is a grad student who needs the work.”
“I said no, Meara.” Not only would a human be mystified at our lifestyle, but if they discovered who we really were, they might announce it to the world.
I'd told her no again, and she'd said to think about it. I'd told her a third time, and she'd suggested I think harder.
A human in our home. My dragon opened one eye and scratched himself. That’s risky.
I agreed. Having a human here meant every minute of every day was a performance.
There could be no shifting, no fire, and certainly no flying.
There was a reason why I’d bought this estate rather than a house in town.
But now that there’d be a human living with us, it’d be like wearing a straightjacket.
But my children needed stability. They needed someone who showed up and stayed and who they could bond with. Perhaps having other shifters in the house had been a mistake. A human didn’t know enough, or anything, about dragons to be afraid of them. And I was running out of options.
“We have new house rules.” I leaned on the kitchen island near the table where Rory, Fraser, and Skye were eating.
“We know,” they chanted. “Don’t scare the manny.”
“That too, but you can’t show them your fire.” I handed out the bracelets.
“Why?” Fraser asked.
“Because he doesn't know about us.”
“About dragons?” Skye shared a glance with her brothers. She grasped that we were different from humans because she had a library full of human-written books.
“That’s right. He’s human, so he doesn’t know about dragons or shifters.”
Sounds like a disaster to me, my dragon huffed.
I ignored him, because unlike the few times I’d asked him to babysit when I was exhausted, he didn’t wrangle three young children as a single working parent.
Rory frowned. “So we have to pretend?”
“You have to be careful. There's a difference.” I crouched down so I was eye level with the three of them. “This is important. I don't want to scare him off before he starts. We’ll go into the woods every day when the manny has time off, and you can take off the bracelets.
There had to be a better solution than a human in our house, but I hadn’t found one. Even dragon mannies didn’t want to be around little dragons who were experimenting with fire. “Been there, done that, and never again,” one had told me.
“What if he finds out?” Rory finished off the last bite of toast.
“He won’t, not if we pay attention.”
Rory shrugged as if he wasn’t convinced, and Fraser was already distracted by a toy car under the table. Skye met my gaze and nodded.
I cleaned up the kitchen and checked the guest suite on the third floor had clean towels and plenty of toiletries.
I considered adjusting the thermostat down five degrees.
It would feel cold to us, and the kids would need sweaters.
But that wasn’t fair to the children. They were making enough adjustments already.
As dragon shifters, the fire within us meant our internal temperature was much hotter than a human’s, and we preferred our environment to reflect that. The new manny would have to deal with the heat.
The buzzer rang, signaling someone was at the main gate. That had to be the new candidate. I peered at the screen. Their car was an older model, and considering the guy needed money, that wasn’t surprising. He was in his late twenties which I already knew because Meara had sent me his resumé.
That's him? My dragon was peering at him. This will end in disaster.
He looked nervous because he was tapping the steering wheel and biting his bottom lip. And when I let him in, he sat in the car for a minute, checking his phone.
I raced to the entrance, wanting to meet him before the kids tumbled out. Flinging open the front door, I prepared a smile, but that faded the instant I got a whiff of his scent.
It smacked me in the face and knocked everything out of my head. I gripped the door jamb as his scent wafted over me, and I identified the different notes. It was a combination of aromas. There was wood, cedar, I thought, and fragrant wildflower honey.
My dragon was rattling around in my head, staring through my eyes and making my teeth ache.
Mate.
No.
Ours. He's ours.
No. No, no.
The man on my doorstep was looking up because he was much shorter than me, and the breeze was ruffling his hair.
Claim him.
Absolutely not.
I shoved my dragon down so hard, I got heartburn.
I couldn’t mark the human without his permission, and I’d been mated and had a mark.
Vince hadn’t been my fate. We’d been brought together by a matchmaker.
Neither of us had sensed we had a fated mate, not all shifters did, and we fell in love, had kids, and were happy until he died in a car accident.
The universe understood that my current mark was part of me, just as my history, memory, and my late mate and our children were. But this human was my future. I couldn’t think of all the complications that came with that, not when I’d just met him.
I managed to say the guy’s name and introduced myself. We shook hands. His skin was warm, though not like mine, and us being skin to skin sent a jolt up my arm. My dragon was clawing inside my chest, and smoke gathered at the base of my throat. I swallowed it and hid a small cough behind my hand.
Don’t forget to breathe. My beast’s voice was muffled because I’d pushed him down so deep.
Ledger stepped past me, and I caught another wave of his scent. I’d have to give my dragon his scales this evening so we could burn off our frustration at having our mate here and not being able to act on it.
Give me my claws and I’ll place our mark on his skin, my dragon growled.
No.
Ledger reacted to the heat and tugged at his collar, but Meara had warned him it was hotter than what he was used to.
“Sorry about the heat. It’s an old furnace and it’s temperamental.”
Why had I said that? I lied, and he would know that because the NDA included details about our preferences.
“It's fine.”
He was looking around the foyer, taking in the high ceilings, the staircase, and the family photos on the wall. His gaze lingered on the scorch marks on the baseboard near the stairs, but he didn't say anything.
He’s observant.
The kids started arguing in the playroom.
I closed my eyes because it was Ledger’s first test. Fraser mumbled, and I caught what he said because my hearing was sharper than a human's.
My son was talking about when he was older and would take his scales.
But my kids were already hiding part of themselves, and I refused to tell them to tone down the volume.
When I opened my eyes, Ledger was grinning. He hadn’t fled because he considered my children unruly.
He’s going to stay, my dragon told me.
I didn't let myself believe that, but gods, I wanted to.