Chapter 17
Brooks sang on the way home—not because he was celebrating surviving the attack, but because he wanted to keep Rogan from reading his thoughts. When he spotted the walls surrounding Wyvern, he asked, Can you drop me off at home, Daddy, before you take the supplies to the doctors?
Don’t you want to go see your grandmother?
Not today. I’m tired. I think I’ll take a nap, Brooks told him, yawning widely.
Do you feel okay? Weird vibes are coming my way.
I’m fine. I didn’t sleep well last night.
Rogan was quiet for a few seconds before he asked, Are you worried about something, Brooks?
No. I’m just tired, Daddy.
You can talk to me about anything, Brooks.
I know.
Okay. I’ll come in and tuck you in before I go.
No need. I don’t want to delay you. I’ll crawl into bed, Brooks insisted as Rogan landed. Brooks quickly slid down to the ground and turned to go inside.
Would you take Daddy’s things and put them in the nursery? Rogan asked, lifting his right front claws that held several bags.
Of course. Brooks quickly checked for the bag containing the cocoa and the tubes of lubricant. He discovered Rogan had slipped a bottle of bubble gum scented bubble bath into the bag. That seemed like something a female mate would enjoy. Brooks forced himself to smile and waved the bag.
“Got it! See you in a while.”
He walked slowly to the front door, yawning twice when Rogan’s gaze met his. Once inside, he dropped off the cocoa with the cook and left everything else in the nursery. Grabbing his dragon, Rogue, Brooks headed for a different floor and let himself into a guest room. He could hide in here for a while.
Taking a seat on the slightly dusty closet floor, Brooks retraced his steps to that door in his brain. He reached for the second latch and closed it. It didn’t click completely closed, but the connection between them narrowed. Hopefully, Rogan couldn’t read his thoughts and emotions now. That seemed way too intimate for someone who would have rather been with a female mate. Hopefully, it wouldn’t alert Rogan that something was wrong. He should think Brooks was asleep.
Dropping his head down on his knees, Brooks felt like his heart was breaking. He hugged his stuffie close and tried to pull himself together. Rogan would return soon. He might give him a bit of alone time to wake up from his nap, but they usually spent the evening together. Could Brooks keep the charade going that Rogan cared for him?
Rogan had told him he had one male mate before him. Brooks hadn’t thought of asking if he was disappointed to have another one. Rogan had always seemed attracted to him, but now, Brooks replayed their conversations in his mind. He’d told Brooks he loved him very quickly. Had he lied? Was Rogan pretending to care about him?
Little things seemed big now.
A crashing sound came from the front of the house, making Brooks sit up straight.
Brooks! Where are you? Rogan’s urgent call filled Brooks’s mind.
Brooks fought to clear his head. He imagined the color gray, hoping it would cover anything floating around in his mind. Aware that he couldn’t hide forever, Brooks stood. As soon as he got his mind protected, he’d call Rogan like he’d woken up a few minutes ago.
“Brooks! Answer me!”
Rogan sounded upset. Had there been another attack? Maybe one of the mates was hurt. Brooks pulled himself together and headed for the staircase. He’d gotten halfway down the hall when Rogan appeared in front of him.
“Brooks! Our connection dwindled to almost nothing. I thought someone had shielded you.” Rogan hugged him hard, knocking the breath from Brooks’s lungs, stepping back while holding on to Brooks’s arms like he was afraid he’d disappear.
“Maybe it blinked out while I was asleep,” Brooks suggested and yawned for special effect.
“Tell me what’s going on. You’ve closed off our connection as much as you could. Only a deliberate act would cause this.”
“Perhaps we don’t have as strong a connection as you did with your other mates. I’m sure it happens. You have to get tired of being stuck with someone. Fate might not always be right.”
“What are you talking about, Adventurer?” Rogan shook Brooks gently. “What is going on in your mind?”
Brooks met his gaze for the first time. “It’s okay, Rogan. I understand.”
“What the fuck do you understand? Because I don’t!”
Brooks leaned back slightly from the volume of that exasperated question. Why was he so upset? It wasn’t like he was the mate Rogan wanted.
“Sir, can I help you?” Sara’s gentle voice asked from the stairway.
“No!” Rogan shouted and then shook his head as he visibly tried to pull himself together. “I’m sorry, Sara. There’s something wrong and I need to get to the bottom of it. I won’t hurt Brooks. Just give us some time.”
“Of course you won’t, sir. Mates are the most precious of your treasures.”
“If I were a woman,” Brooks grumbled.
“What?” Rogan’s roar cleared the hallway as Sara hurried away. “What does your masculinity have to do with how much I love you?”
Brooks shrugged, hoping to knock Rogan’s hold off. Rogan’s fingers tightened around him. “It’s okay, Rogan. I understand everyone has preferences. I’m sorry you got stuck with me.”
“I am not fucking stuck with you! I would not change a single thing about you.”
“Right,” Brooks said. “You kind of have to say that.”
“I do not!” Rogan glared at him. “What put this in your mind? You were fine before we went to the drugstore. Did you take something there? Do you have a drug problem? I can help with that.”
“What? No! I’m not an addict.”
“Then what happened? One moment we’re talking about circus peanuts, then we’re attacked. Wait… Did something happen when they shot at us?” Rogan leaned forward to smell him. “I don’t smell blood. Are you hurt?”
“No, Rogan. I’m not physically injured.”
“So, there’s mental damage?” Rogan asked softly. His voice shifted immediately to hold warmth and caring. “Talk to me. Let me help.”
“Rogan! I’m not mentally damaged .” Brooks stressed that last word before continuing, “Other than being hit over the head with the fact you wish your mate was a woman.”
Rogan shook his head. “That’s completely untrue. Where did you get that idea?”
“Come on, Rogan. Who stockpiles tampons? You were obviously planning for a female mate and got stuck with me.”
“Will you come with me? There’s something I should have shared with you,” Rogan asked quietly.
“Will it make a difference?” Brooks asked, skeptically.
“I hope so.”
“Okay,” Brooks agreed with another shrug.
Rogan took his hand and tugged him to the stairs. Brooks followed him to the main floor and then toward the back entrance of the mansion. The shifter turned into a small closet-like room only to stop at a piece of art created from thousands of small pieces of stone meticulously placed together. Rogan glided his fingers over the fragments, pressing here and there in a seemingly random pattern.
Brooks stared when Rogan pressed on the mosaic, and the entire wall grumbled before swinging open. Rogan walked forward into the darkness, tugging Brooks with him. Once the wall closed behind him, Rogan exhaled a stream of fire to ignite a torch.
“Come, Adventurer. I should have shown you this a long time ago, but I wanted to make sure it was prepared for you. This staircase will take us under the mansion. After your reaction to the dust in my hoard, Sara and my staff have scrubbed this area from ceiling to floor. It is now safe for you.”
“Rogan, I don’t see how the basement is going to help.”
“I know you don’t. Do this for me, please.”
“Okay. You don’t have to do this, Rogan. It’s okay. I understand that all mates aren’t perfect.”
“You don’t understand anything if you believe that,” Rogan corrected him sharply before softening his tone. “Come with me, please.”
“Fine. Lead on.”
The stairs wound further and further down until Brooks wondered how deep underground they’d go. Finally, the stairs ended, and darkness stretched before them. Rogan urged him forward, leading the way. As they walked through the shadowy tunnel, Rogan lit the torches spaced along the wall.
A dark opening appeared ahead in the tunnel to the left. Rogan ducked inside and lit the torch inside. A picture hung on the wall. It was a handsome man dressed in very old-fashioned clothing. Irresistibly drawn forward by curiosity, Brooks stepped closer.
The man wasn’t classically handsome. He wouldn’t have made anyone check him out. Big and brawny, his occupation must have required great strength.
“That’s Ian. I’ve told you about him. He was my first mate from Wyvern. When fate matched us together, the founding fathers tried to pull out of the deal. They hadn’t anticipated one of their sons would be a mate.” Rogan’s voice sounded soft and gentle as he gazed at the portrait on the wall.
“You loved him,” Brooks guessed.
“I have loved all my mates.”
“There was something special about him.”
“Mates are always special. Dragons live a long time and have several mates. We never forget our time with each one.”
“But Ian stands out because he was your first Wyvern?” Brooks kept pushing. A different vibe flowed from Rogan that told him this was important.
“Ian was my first fated mate. I was young and cocky. Not a virgin—far from it. Ian did not wish to be a mate. It was extremely difficult for a male to admit he was attracted to a male in those times--even with the special circumstance of a mating bond. Of course, no one understood the bond then either.”
“He wasn’t gay.”
“No. He was quite popular with the ladies. As the apprentice of Wyvern’s blacksmith, Ian took care of putting on horseshoes. Business flourished with him in the shop,” Rogan said with a smile.
“And when the mate bond snapped into place?”
“The blacksmith had to train someone new. Ian didn’t adjust well to a life of leisure. The town treated him differently, of course—polite and still thankful for supporting Wyverns as a mate, but his new lifestyle wasn’t understood.”
Brooks could read the grief on Rogan’s face. “What happened to Ian?”
“He died happily at 154. I still miss him after all this time. I think because of the hardship that characterized our first days, we learned to depend on each other exclusively. We were more than close.”
A heavy quiet filled the room as they both considered Rogan’s words. After several long seconds, Rogan said, “Let’s continue.”
One by one, Rogan led Brooks through the small chambers dedicated to his mates. In each one, he shared some information about his mate. Brooks could tell that he honestly loved each one and had treasured their time together.
“Is it rare to have a male mate since you’ve had more female ones?” Brooks asked after the last one.
“Rare? I’ve never crunched the numbers. It’s possible that the pool of females in Wyvern is larger to draw from. Or maybe other dragons have male mates while I have a female one, so the total balances?”
“Or you haven’t allowed yourself to have another male mate,” Brooks suggested, pulling that idea out of the air.
Rogan looked at him in shock. Ten seconds of heavy silence later, he nodded. “Yes. That’s what I believed. Until now.”
“You mean me?” Brooks asked, completely taken by surprise.
“Yes. We are fated mates because I needed you. Perhaps more than I’ve ever needed a mate.”
“Because I’m a guy?”
“Because you are the total package—intuitive, adventurous, fearless, sexy, and curious. I needed someone to make me see the world in a different way. Someone who would challenge me. Ian did that in his way.”
“I’m a replacement for him?” Brooks asked, shaking his head.
“Absolutely not. Ian was what I needed at that time. He wouldn’t be now. Just like you wouldn’t have been right in his time.”
Brooks relaxed. That made sense. “So now, this is what you want? A woman wouldn’t be better?”
“Have you met any woman like you, Adventurer?”
After allowing an audible puff of air to escape his lips to express his doubt, Brooks admitted, “Probably not. I’ve always strayed away from the paths most people find comfortable.”
“Exactly. Obviously, fate knew that you are who I needed in my life now.” Rogan stepped forward and drew Brooks close. “When you closed that second lock, I couldn’t feel you. Dragons don’t get scared, but that shook me.”
“I’m sorry.” Brooks wanted to kick himself for causing Rogan pain but forced himself to ask again. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to be with a female mate?”
“I want to be with you, Adventurer. You are everything I need and so much more to enjoy. Think carefully. Have I given you a hint that I wished you were something other than yourself?” Rogan’s gaze blazed into his.
“You stockpiled tampons,” he blurted.
“Yes. I have collected many things to care for my mate. Dragons hoard more than money, jewels, and swords. Come. Let me show you,” Rogan said, stepping to Brooks’ side as he wrapped his arm around his back.
Rogan guided him to an arched doorway where an ancient wooden door guarded whatever was on the other side. His mate pressed a stone into the wall and uncovered a thick skeleton key. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and ushered Brooks inside.
“It was much more impressive when the florescent lights worked,” Rogan mentioned before walking inside to roam around lighting torches. “Grab a basket and fill it up.”
After watching the torches illuminate the ceiling that seemed to extend forever, Brooks stepped into the aisles. He scanned all the things loaded onto the shelves. Facial tissue, toilet paper, make up, athlete’s foot cream, slightly under-inflated footballs and soccer balls, golf clubs, sunscreen, gummy candy…. Brooks couldn’t spot the end of the supplies gathered in this area. The rows kept going and going.
Rogan reappeared at his side and peered into the basket Brooks carried. “You didn’t find anything you wanted?”
“This is overwhelming, Rogan. How did you get all this down here?”
“There’s a door where trucks used to pull up to with deliveries.”
“Does it fill the entire mountain?”
“Of course not. It’s only this level,” Rogan assured him.
“Only on this level,” Brooks repeated, stressing one word as he leaned to the side to see if he could spot the end of the row. He could not. “There’s so much here. Why’d you pick up lubricant and bubble bath?”
“Habit, I guess. Collecting is my thing.”
“Do you have any guy things stockpiled?” Brooks asked suspiciously.
“I have a bunch of action video games and systems. Those don’t work anymore. I do have a section of those building blocks that snap together to make famous buildings. Is that a guy thing?”
“You have Legos?” Brooks asked in amazement.
“Yes. Those still work, don’t they? Some of those sets have so many pieces. It would be fun to put those together as a team. Want to go check them out?”
“Please.” Brooks had loved Legos since he was a kid. His traveling lifestyle wasn’t convenient to carry the enormous sets around with him. Becoming a mate allowed him to travel with Rogan and return to Wyvern as his home base.
When Rogan stopped in front of a massive display of toys, Brooks couldn’t believe it. “You have so many fun things here.”
“Yes. I hope so. Taking care of my mate is vital. If you can’t find it here, we’ll put it on a list and go exploring to find it,” Rogan assured him.
“So, the tampons weren’t because you were focused on having a female mate?” Brooks double checked.
“No more than the hemorrhoid cream reflects my need to have a mate that doesn’t eat enough fiber,” Rogan joked.
“I really messed up, didn’t I?”
“Only if we hadn’t worked together to fix this. If something bothers you, talk to me, Brooks.”
“I will, Daddy,” he promised.
“I love to hear you use that name for me. Let’s sit down and open those locks again. My heart hurts from being separated from you,” Rogan shared.
“Mine, too.”
Rogan settled on the ground and drew Brooks onto his lap. He held him close as Brooks retraced his steps to that door. This time, Brooks tore the second lock off. He never wanted to separate them again.