Chapter Ten
Jules had borrowed Elouan’s shower, hoping to wash the lingering traces of sex from his skin, though he’d prefer to revel in the scent. Best not to let Moira and Radomir know how he’d spent his day. He’d texted earlier to let them know he’d be late.
Moira had replied with a heart emoji. Someone learned quickly.
As he sat in the truck waiting for Elouan to get in, something tightened in his gut, an unfamiliar feeling. An image came to mind of an older version of himself that disappeared in an instant. Donovan? Had he just glimpsed his brother?
No time to dwell, as the feeling disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
Elouan navigated down darkened streets, allowing Jules to nestle against his side. Had Donovan tried to contact him? That shouldn’t be possible as long as Moira maintained the concealing spell, right?
As much as he’d love to continue his date, the overwhelming need to get home and check on Moira twisted Jules’s insides.
Once or twice while driving, Elouan lowered his head, seeming to sniff Jules’s hair. Weird, but not unwelcome. Neither was the muscular arm draped over Jules’s shoulder.
“I’d like this to become a regular thing for us,” Elouan said, gaze locked with Jules’s when he stopped a few houses down from Jules’s. “Us going out, I mean.”
Really? “Nothing would make me happier.”
They parted with a quick kiss and a smile. Jules swore he could’ve flown from the truck to the front door without wings. Elouan waited until Jules opened the front door before driving away.
Only the living room light remained on when he crept into the house. He found a note on the kitchen counter: Dinner is in the refrigerator.
Not Wake me up, no Moira waiting, but the understanding that Jules could take care of himself. So, he wasn’t the only one who could be taught.
He warmed a small bowl of potato and ham casserole and helped himself, sitting at the kitchen counter to eat.
Moira usually insisted that the three of them sit down together at the dining room table.
While Moira’s trust thrilled him in a way, he missed his two surrogate parents.
How he’d love to tell them about today—well, some of it anyway—and even invite Elouan over to meet them.
He’d have to take small steps because of their suspicious nature.
He finished his meal, washed the dishes, and started toward his bedroom.
The sound of soft sobs stopped him short. “Moira?” He backtracked to her and Radomir’s bedroom.
“It’s okay,” Radomir called out, which only seemed to make Moira cry harder. An invisible fist gripped Jules’s throat. What the hell was wrong with Moira? And Radomir’s “okay” needed work.
One never entered a dragon’s lair without invitation, but he’d never heard Moira cry before. Alarm bells sounded in his head. “Please. Can I come in?”
Radomir paused before saying, “Yes.”
Jules threw open the door, standing in the doorway for a few moments while his eyes adjusted to the dimness of a bedside lamp. Moira sat on the fake fur that made up their bed, still dressed in the clothes she’d worn earlier, hair askew, eyes puffy and red.
Radomir sat next to her, an arm wrapped around her shoulders, crooning. Jules recognized the tune of the lullaby Moira used to sing, particularly when Jules was distraught.
“Moira!” Jules hurried over to her side, dropping to his knees.
Moira looked up, misery written on every line of her face. “Jules. Y…you shouldn’t be here. Go to bed.”
The pain radiating from her tore at Jules’s heart. This was his guardian, his protector, the only mother he recalled. He’d taken for granted that nothing could affect her like this. “If something’s hurting you, then here’s where I need to be.”
Despite her words, Moira took one of Jules’s hands in hers, giving a weak smile. He squeezed her fingers. If only he could take her pain away.
“What happened?” Oh, Goddess! Had the mage come back and told them Adrakus no longer existed?
Radomir explained softly, “Moira lifted the concealment spell for a few moments, hoping to feel something from the other side.”
“They’re gone! Both of them are gone!” she wailed.
“What? Who’s gone?”
“Our children,” Radomir said, tucking Moira’s face into his shoulder and holding her tight. “Our children are gone.”
Only then did Jules notice Radomir’s red eyes, so like Moira’s. Children. Their children. Moira had told stories over the years of her and Radomir’s children, their antics. How proud she’d been of them. They’d so looked forward to seeing them again. Now they were gone?
“Oh, Goddess! I’m so sorry! Are you sure?” There had to be a mistake.
Radomir nodded. “She couldn’t feel them.”
“Couldn’t they be hidden like we are?” Jules clutched at any excuse to make this tragedy not be real.
“No. Nothing can hide a dragon’s offspring from them without the spell.” Moira sobbed harder.
From all they’d said, feeling a familiar connection cut came close to experiencing death oneself. Jules eased down on the fur on Moira’s other side, rubbing what he hoped was a comforting hand over her back. He wanted to ask "What now?" but didn’t dare.
Moira pulled Jules into a near-painful grip.
Radomir answered the unasked question. “Moira has enough magic to keep us all concealed, but not enough to open a portal. We have no way of knowing what’s happening in our world, but it must be bad to claim the lives of both our beta children. They are…were…experienced fighters.”
“I…I tried to feel my sister too,” Moira gasped out. “Nothing.”
“Maybe something's wrong with the connection. Can’t you try again?” The image of the man who must be Jules’s brother revisited his mind, as well as the strange sensations he’d felt.
“You don’t understand,” Radomir said. “By uncloaking herself, she left us vulnerable. Any nearby dragon who felt her might come investigate.”
“I’m so sorry!” Moira wailed again. “I had to know!”
“But is that so wrong? They won’t find us, right? Or if they do, they won’t mean us harm, will they?” Although Moira lectured constantly about staying hidden, that couldn’t be the case. Jules suddenly no longer saw her caution as paranoia. “What can we do?”
“Stay close,” Radomir said. “But we have to continue our usual routines. Perhaps they won't detect us, or if they do, they’ll think they made a mistake.”
“I’m…I’m so sorry for being weak,” Moira choked out. “But I had to know. I remembered during one of our conversations how long it had been since we’d received any kind of word.”
Guilt struck Jules like a dagger to the heart. He’d been the one to put those thoughts in her head by asking how she knew anyone was still alive. Jules would do anything, say anything to take back the words, for Moira’s offspring to still be alive.
“Shh…” Radomir soothed, stroking her hair. “We’ll be fine. We have to be fine.” He met Jules’s gaze over the top of Moira’s head. “Go on to bed, Jules. I’ll take care of Moira.”
Jules reluctantly backed from the room, Moira’s crying reduced to sniffles now. If he’d been exposed, could he have reached out to his brother? Had that moment in the truck been real? Had Donovan felt Jules’s presence too?
The more time that passed, the less he wanted to return to the dangerous dragon realm. It sounded like a horrible place, possibly more dangerous than the fictional Westeros.
Poor Moira and Radomir. Jules had never met their offspring, but through retellings of fledgeling misadventures, he had come to know them. Once more he thanked the Goddess for his guardians and begged her to comfort them.
Jules lay awake in bed the next morning when a soft tap sounded on his door.
His dragon growled softly at the thought of letting someone into his lair, but this was Radomir. “Come in.”
Radomir slipped through the door, settling on the edge of Jules’s bed, studying the floor and shifting nervously. Jules couldn’t recall Radomir ever being in here, at least not in recent memory. Had something else happened?
“We’ve reached a decision,” he said, a muscle flexing in his jaw.
“But you’re grown now and deserve a say.
” He met Jules’s gaze with watery eyes. “We’ve accepted that no one is coming for us, and we’re on our own.
We’ve placed so much faith in the mage returning, in you having a special place in the fate of our world, that we’ve deprived you of so much.
For that, we’re sorry. From now on, we’ll live like humans, with no more talk of leaving, for we now believe we never will.
We’ve been here too long.” Radomir pulled him into a fierce embrace.
“You’re all we have left, Jules. We can’t lose you too. ”
The reality of having his own suspicions voiced out loud slammed into Jules like a brick to the face. They weren’t going back. Jules would never see the Adrakus he’d heard so much about. “What about my brother?”
Radomir eased his hold, cupping Jules’s cheek in a callused hand.
“We can’t get any information about him without further opening ourselves to nearby enemies.
The war extends beyond Adrakus. Courts fight among themselves even in Terra.
If we interact with the world and don’t draw attention to ourselves, maybe you stand a chance of living a normal life.
Or as normal as possible. Moira will have to maintain the spell on us so no one will ever know who we really are. ”
“So, I should finish school and get a job?”
“If that’s what you want.”
Should Jules confess? “I…want a normal human life. One that includes someone to love.”
Radomir nodded. “I understand. I was lucky in that, as a beta, no one tried to arrange a mate for me, leaving me free to pursue Moira. How empty my life would’ve been without her.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Will you two be okay?” Jules remembered his conversation with Elouan about having known family and lost them. Seeing the two people who’d been his rock for so many years despondent caused a throbbing ache in his heart.
Radomir gave a bittersweet smile. “We have to be, don’t we? What other choice is there?”
Jules embraced Radomir again, who’d always been the more stoic of Jules’s two guardians. No, not guardians. “Thank you. But if we’re not going back, you’re free of your obligation to me.”
Radomir paused a moment, then wrapped his long arms around Jules. “We’ll never be free. Not because your brother entrusted you into our care, but because we’ve come to love you as one of our own.”
Jules had often seen Moira and Radomir as more jailers than defenders. He’s been so wrong. Memories came to him: Radomir teaching him to fight, Moira letting a younger Jules help her bake cookies even though she’d probably rather have a sword in her hand than a spatula.
They weren’t jailers. Or guardians.
Moira slipped quietly into the room, sitting on the bed next to her mate.
They were family. Possibly the only family Jules would ever have. He said the words he’d not said nearly enough over the years. “I love you both.”
Moira and Radomir pulled him into a three-way hug. “You were never just an obligation to us,” Moira said. “You’re our child, and we love you. I wish you could’ve known your other brother and sister.”
Jules couldn’t say how long he stayed there, soaking in the warmth while Moira cried. Long enough for his own tears to flow.