Chapter 23
Lucas
The storm had burned itself out to a low, distant grumble by the time the house finally went still.
Lucas stood in the hallway outside the girls’ room for a long moment and just listened to the quiet.
The girls were all tucked in tight beneath their heavy quilts after a long evening.
Luna had passed out almost immediately after her adventure in the storm.
Spirit, the crazy little goat who had absolutely no respect for boundaries, was curled up at the end of Celeste’s bed like she was no more than one of their stuffed animals.
Every so often, Celeste would sigh in her sleep and press a hand into her fur. The goat didn’t protest at all.
They were all safe, warm and whole. The frantic band of panic that had wrapped around Lucas’s ribs since the first crack of thunder finally loosened.
He stepped into the kitchen and found Sia there, a mug cradled between her palms, the heat warming her hands. Her hair was down, the ends curled slightly in the aftermath that the storm had left behind. She looked tired.
“All tucked in and mostly asleep. I think they all had enough excitement for tonight.”
“I made a pot of coffee.” She pointed to the counter. “Spirit get settled in with no problems?”
“Like he owns the place.” He chuckled. “You know we’re never getting that goat out of this castle, right? The girls will have her wearing clothes before too long.”
She gave a quick shrug. “I figured that, which is why I steered them toward a breed that stays small.” She took a sip. “Besides, it’s better that she moves in with the girls rather than have them constantly remind us that she needs siblings.”
Lucas moved behind her and kissed her on the back of the neck. “Yeah, one goat is much better than two. Or three.”
“So, help me understand something.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell me again how you found Luna.”
Lucas glanced at her. What was she up to? “Why do you want to hear the story again? I’ve already told you twice.”
“Because you got Luna home awfully fast,” she said quietly. “Even though it seemed like forever, you really weren’t gone very long. Certainly not long enough to search the fields and the mountain base.
Lucas paused halfway to the coffee pot. “The trip was easy enough,” he offered as an answer even though it wasn't really an answer.
“Especially with wings.” She tipped her head and studied him over the rim of the mug. “Luna told the girls you were flying.”
He blinked.
Of all the ways he’d imagined this conversation beginning, that hadn’t been one of them.
“She said you were faster than the wind,” Sia continued, almost conversationally. “And that she trusted you not to let anything happen to her, like falling.”
He set his hands flat on the counter to keep them from curling into fists. Luna had always had a talent for inconvenient honesty but he hadn’t expected her to be so quick about it.
“They’re imaginative,” he said carefully.
Sia’s mouth twitched. “Oh, they are. That much is true. But Luna wasn’t using her imagination.”
Silence stretched between them.
Lucas had faced down the lightning that split the sky over Crystafalls. He had shifted midair as soon as he was out of sight to make the search for his daughter easier. He had found the two little bodies, one girl, one goat, within minutes nestled in a small alcove in the hill.
Flying them back had been easy. Almost too easy when one of the guards almost caught him landing behind the castle. Luckily the storm had masked him just enough that the guard missed the scene in front of him.
Nothing involved in the rescue compared to the danger he felt now. He turned to face her.
“I need you to know,” he said, and his voice came out rougher than he’d meant it to, “that I would never put them, or you, in danger.”
“I know.”
Her immediate answer and unquestioning trust almost undid him.
He swallowed. “I’m not exactly…” He exhaled slowly. “I’m not exactly what most people would call ordinary.”
“I gathered.”
He searched her face for mockery. There was none.
Lucas forced the words out before he could lose his nerve. “I’m a dragon shifter.”
There it was. Laid bare between them. He braced for it. The flinch, or the step back, or the careful rearranging of her expression into polite fear until she could escape.
Instead, Sia set the mug down with deliberate calm.
“I know,” she said gently. “But I’m glad you told me before you knew that.”
He stared at her. “You… what?”
“Dian told me.” She winced faintly. “A long time ago. I don’t think she meant to tell me the secret. It just slipped out. And then she panicked and said I wasn’t supposed to know.” She let out a small laugh. “Sister secrets are… complicated.”
His mind snagged on one word. “You knew?”
“I’ll admit that I thought she was crazy at first. Then I just accepted it, but I wasn’t certain until tonight.”
“My eyes,” he muttered.
“Your eyes,” she agreed. “They turn molten when you’re scared for them. Not overly obvious that everyone would notice, but I did. Your dragon was itching to get out and find your baby girl.”
Heat crept up his neck. He hadn’t realized.
“I never said anything,” she continued. “Because I didn’t know if Dian had betrayed something sacred. And because…” She hesitated. “I didn’t want to push you into telling me before you were ready.”
That landed square in his chest.
“You’re not… afraid?” he asked.
“Of you?” She shook her head slowly. “Lucas, you just carried your child through a storm and saved her from what could have been a tragic night. Not to mention Spirit. Whatever you are, you chose them.”
The tightness in his lungs eased in increments.
She studied him with frank curiosity now. “But, I’ve never seen a dragon.”
His pulse skipped. “You might not want to.”
“And on the flip side, maybe I do.”
There was no challenge in her voice. Just wonder. They leaned against the counter together with their shoulders nearly touching.
“I am curious though. About the girls,” she said softly. “If you’re a shifter… can they, you know, inherit your traits?”
He’d thought about that more than he’d ever admitted aloud.
“It’s possible,” he said. “It’s not always predictable with girls.
Sometimes the traits skip females in a family, which is why males are always the heirs.
Sometimes in females, they show up in small ways.
” He gave a faint, crooked smile. “You know. The stereotypical ability to stand heat. Unusual stamina. A tendency to hoard shiny rocks.”
She huffed a laugh. “That explains the mason jar of marbles they have.”
He groaned. “I was hoping that was just a phase.”
Her expression turned thoughtful. “If they do have something… we’ll handle it.”
We. The word slid into place like it belonged there.
“They wouldn’t be alone because they have us,” she added. “And neither would you because you have me.”
He hadn’t realized how much he’d been carrying until that moment. All of the caution and choosing distance over risk. He had never pictured this. A kitchen warm with emotion. A goat snoring down the hall. And a woman who knew and did not recoil.
Outside, the last of the thunder rolled away over the mountain peaks.
Sia set her hand lightly over his wrist. “Is it over now?”
He listened, not with his ears, but with the deeper sense that hummed beneath his skin. The storm had moved on and the air felt rinsed clean.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s over.”
She stepped back and gestured with her chin toward the door. “Then show me.”
For a heartbeat, fear flared again. Not of her, but of losing this fragile, impossible thing that he had never daydreamed would be possible.
Then he remembered the look in her eyes when she’d said she knew.
Lucas walked toward the door. He took her hand and led her out into the damp night. The wet grass glistened under a newly revealed moon. The scent of wet earth and scattered flowers drifted in from all directions.
He led her to a small area that was mostly surrounded by thick bushes and trees. He pulled her close and kissed her. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
In answer, she stepped back and waved her hands. “Go for it. I want to see the other half of the man I married.”
The shift was heat and light and bone-deep stretching. Wings unfurled with a low rush of moving air. Within moments, his scales caught the moonlight and reflected it like stars.
Then Sia stepped closer. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t scream. She walked toward him, slow and sure, her face tipped upward.
Awe bloomed in her eyes, bright and unguarded. “You are magnificent,” she breathed.
The word hit him harder than any rejection would have. Her acceptance, and compliment, were more than he ever could have hoped for. He lowered his head carefully until his great golden eye was level with her. In its reflection, she looked small but unafraid.
She reached out and her fingers brushed the edge of his jaw. It was warm against his cool scales and Lucas felt it everywhere.
When she smiled, it wasn’t tentative. It was amazement and pride, and something deeper that made his heart steady itself.
The fear he’d braced for dissolved like mist.
In its place stood a woman looking at his secret form and choosing him anyway.