Dragon Dad (Mori’s Mementos #11)

Prologue

Mori’s Journal

Moonscale London

Philip was annoyed with me that it took him three trips here to convince me to hand over THE book.

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. I did – mostly.

It was that the timing wasn’t right. When Clarence and Medwin’s memoir was almost finished – was way too soon.

Then he brought me my copy of the memoir, and I needed to read it before I gave the book up.

Then he came back again with the most outlandish request. He wanted me to go back with him for Pras Lavender’s leaving ceremony.

Nope. No way. You’d think he’d have gotten it through his head by now that I’m not stepping foot in the GGB unless I’m the only caster who can help them and their little ceremony has plenty of people to help out.

I almost kept the book just to piss him off.

It’s so easy to forget that no one quite knows the reason I’ve become a hermit in Moonscale London.

But now the book is back in the GGB after I extracted a promise from Philip that he wouldn’t make any pit stops.

Something feels off with the universe today.

Maybe that’s because I’ve read Clarence and Medwin’s memoir three times now.

Philip brought me the copy with all the nitty-gritty stuff in it.

I can’t get over the fact that Ferrick didn’t know he could get another omega pregnant.

I keep wondering what would’ve happened differently if he had been educated. Thank the old bears for Omega Studies.

Things haven’t changed that much here since I last opened my journal to write except the book is gone and I know now what it took to have Moonscale London as peaceful as it is now.

It’s strange to think that if all those things hadn’t happened, I might not live here now.

Sure, I wouldn’t have to put up with my neighbor randomly howling like his best friend has died, but still.

As for the neighbor, I fear I’m becoming a bad neighbor.

I don’t remember the old wolf’s name and haven’t gone over to knock on the door and check on him.

If he wanted help, he’d ask, right? If someone he knows died, I really don’t want to get involved.

I don’t want the spirit of whoever it is to realize I’m here just on the other side of his wall. I’ve enjoyed my hermitage with Snowy.

Besides feeling like a giant, furry asshat for ignoring the neighbor, I scroll social media – a lot.

Maybe too much. I look at *his* social media.

He’s really enjoying his job at the Cuddle Club.

He’s taken up volunteering to guard Flight School during his free time.

He’s on rotation with Philip and a few other bear shifters.

Flight School is a playroom for winged children run by a winged lion in the GGB.

Apparently, some jackasses are up in arms that a play center exists for children who fly and to do so safely only admits children with wings.

It has everyone a little on edge and the one thing the GGB has never put up with is messing with their young.

The guy who runs it – Jade – is the grandson of Brom Valen.

He was a jackass who made people breed together and killed a bunch of people who didn’t do what he wanted.

His other grandparents were killed in the Wildlands.

Sometimes Jade randomly crosses my mind, and I wonder if he thinks about his inherited generational trauma too.

I’m sure his parents were/are great but is it in his cells too?

My therapist says that it’s not polite to wonder about other people’s cells, but if we’re all made of the same stardust maybe we all share something that hasn’t been named yet.

My alpha follows Jade on social media and I can’t help but to wonder if they’re friends now.

I hope my guy has made tons of friends in the GGB. I hope that---

The neighbor is howling again. I can’t write under these conditions. So much for a peaceful life.