Chapter 14 #3
A large book in her lap contained glossy photography of sleek, geometric furniture pieces in various settings.
Books were less overwhelming than the glowing chaos of the internet tablets the children used.
But the furniture couldn’t hold a candle to the sleek, chiseled curves of Tanner when he walked into the room.
He wore only the soft gray sweatpants that outlined his magnificent thighs as he carried an armful of frozen packages from the freezer in the back pantry.
Her fingers itched for her drawing pad and pencil.
She wanted to capture the strong planes of his face softened by the hazy light, the way his dark hair fell loose around his neck.
Her creativity sparked with an idea for a full portrait of him.
Two full days and long nights of intense and deeply satisfying amorous congress with him should have left her sated.
Instead, she was tempted to help him remove the sweatpants again.
It was more than just a welcome return of physical desire after years of celibacy enforced by demesne magic.
She desired only him. He’d captured her interest from the first moment, and no one else could compare.
For the moment, she was content to let him plan future meals.
Feeding her seemed to make him happy, but she needed to learn how to cook with appliances, especially the noisy, plate-spinning microwave.
However, she drew the line at the tempestuous coffee machine that hissed and grumbled like a caged fire elemental.
From all that she’d gathered, living off the land and the sea as a dragon would be nearly impossible in the modern world.
There were too many ordinary humans with phones that could take videos for her to hide, even with her dragon’s concealing magic.
According to the refugee hyena-shifter children, she would soon need a main gig and a side-hustle, which seemed to be the confusing modern names for free servants and itinerant street traders.
Her experience in repairing small artifacts, mixing paints and preparing canvases for successful portraitists, or applying finishes to hand-hewn furniture seemed worthless in a world where it was cheaper to replace, buy from a store, or build with plastic.
But she could do manual labor while she learned new skills.
Outside the large front window, the world remained an unrelieved landscape of white.
The continent-spanning storm Tanner had described was finally tapering off, leaving behind a sullen slate-colored sky and a few lazy, drifting snowflakes.
The evergreen trees bowed low under the heavy burden of the snow.
Earlier, Tanner had mentioned he was glad he’d left his “Sheriff-mobile” in town, or they would have needed hours to clear his steep driveway, even if she’d shifted to her dragon form to tackle the drifts.
The cushion beside her dipped, and Tanner slid into the chair, wrapping a warm arm around her shoulders to pull her close. He smelled of soap from his shower and his own unique scent of feathers. “Do you like Art Deco?”
“I liked the name of the book.” Avelunne leaned into his solid strength. “The deceptively simple style is intriguing.”
They sat in easy silence for a few minutes, Tanner idly stroking her arm while she turned the pages. It was domestic. It was comforting. No past, no future, just the present.
A shrill, ear-piercing noise shattered the peace. Tanner was up and moving before Avelunne could even flinch, crossing the room in three long strides to snatch his phone from its stand on the kitchen counter.
“Tanner. Go.” His entire demeanor shifted from lover to lawman in the blink of an eye. He listened intently, nodding twice. “Hold them both. Get Denise and the witch on call.” He glanced at the wall clock. “I’ll be there in twelve.”
He hung up and turned to her, already moving toward the door where his uniform lay. “Sorry, duty calls. There’s been a stabbing at the casino.”
Avelunne watched him spring into action, impressed by his practiced, efficient movements as he transformed into a uniformed sheriff.
Four minutes later, he stood in front of her, wearing winter gear and carrying a pre-packed duffel bag.
“I’ll text you later.” He gave her a scorching kiss, then left by the front door and launched as a thunderbird from the heavy porch railing.
In the sudden, heavy silence of the cabin, Avelunne closed the book and put it back on the shelf where she found it. The cabin felt lifeless without him.
He’d called her “mate” more than once in the heights of passion.
If she agreed to let him claim her, he would be binding himself to her and would want her to stay.
But his abrupt departure just now was a pointed reminder that she would always be the mistress, and Kotoyeesinay his wife.
His duty was a bone-deep imperative she could never compete with, nor could she ask him to change.
She should move on while her heart was more or less still intact.
The urge to leave flared like pressure in her lungs, but she made herself sit and think instead.
Her old, bad habit of fleeing to avoid pain, or even the anticipation of pain, had not made her happier or safer.
Or brought friends who would miss her. She’d spent centuries imagining and longing for what she didn’t have instead of cherishing what she did.
She remembered the rapturous look on Tanner’s face when he saw and embraced his cousins in the pen.
No one had ever looked at her like that, and she keenly felt the lack.
Here and now in Kotoyeesinay, she had people who liked her and who she liked back. In an odd way, they were her hoard. She had a safe place to be a dragon. They were part of a whole, colorful community that didn’t care about her ancestry.
And she had Tanner. Even if she couldn’t have all of him, the parts she did have were fulfilling.
Perhaps they could compromise. The idea of exploring the world’s wonders yet having a home to return to was a different kind of song she hadn’t let herself hear until now.
I’ll be home for Christmas, you can count on me…
She didn’t know what was right for her, or for him, or for them together.
Act in haste, regret at leisure. For now, she would stay.
She would keep herself busy at the Transition Center, coloring with the traumatized children and helping Tinsel achieve her vision of placing a fairy light on every roof and branch in the valley.
The town could have the Sheriff during working hours, but the other hours would be hers. She would enjoy the here-and-now.
A slow smile touched her lips as she looked around the empty but beautiful cabin that still smelled of him.
If she got lucky, she could enjoy pleasure with him on every sturdy-enough place in his home.
Desire bloomed in her core, smothering her doubts as she imagined the possibilities of some inappropriate places, too.