CHAPTER 82
MURR
Coincidences do not occur often. I have rarely seen other dragons since I came back to myself, and yet Fothessa has appeared for the second time within a span of days.
I do not trust it.
Her scent is friendly, her expression full of smiles.
There is a slight underpinning of reluctance to her aroma, though, one of uncertainty.
It is that which makes me pause and draw my mate close.
I cannot touch my mind to Fothessa’s and see what her purpose is here, so I must go off of what she says in the human language.
It feels flimsy, to trust words instead of thoughts, but I have no choice.
Dakota stays close to me, allowing me to pull her into my embrace and drape an arm over her protectively.
I am sending a message to Fothessa with this small movement, that I am protecting my mate.
Her scent does not change to one of guilt, so it is nothing to do with Dakota, and my mind eases a little.
If she means to trick me, I can handle it.
It is my mate that needs careful protecting, my mate and her vulnerable family.
My vulnerable family.
“I promise I have kept you all a secret,” Fothessa says.
“No one knows that Dakota and her family are outside the fort, but I confess that I did tell a few of the drakoni at the fort that I met you, Murtades. They are eager to meet you and share memories, if you have any to share. Our knowledge of where we came from is fractured, and anything is welcome as we share our experiences together. If you do not want to meet Vaan or Mhal, I understand, but they wish to meet you.”
“And the Salorian? The bad guy?” Dakota asks. “Does he know about Murr?”
“I did not speak of Murtades to him,” Fothessa replies, and there is no deception in her scent. “He is better than most of his kind, but he is still Salorian and does not always think as we do. The humans trust him implicitly, but for me, there will always be a shadow of doubt.”
I understand this. It will take more than one or two actions to erase centuries of enslavement of our people.
Fothessa picks at one of her claws. “It is not because of him that I am here. I am asking for a friend. I know a human in the fort, a male with a son about the age of your Rabbit.” She nods at Dakota.
“His son cannot see, and he had a dog that acted as his eyes, but the dog was old and passed away.”
“And you want a puppy for him,” Dakota says, voice soft.
“If he had a dog, he could train it to act as his sight, and he would not be forced to depend upon others. I know your animals are precious, but he would love it and give it the best care, and it would change his life. His father works for the fort to keep them fed and cannot be home with Jonah at all times, as much as he would like to.” Her expression is pleading, and there is a familiar scent drifting through Fothessa’s aroma.
She has great affection for this boy…or more likely, his father.
Dakota glances up at me and then back at Fothessa. “Thess, I understand what you’re asking, but they’re not my puppies to give away. They’re Aggie’s dogs, and I can’t make that decision for her.”
“Of course not. I would never demand such a thing. I have not told Jonah or his father of the dogs, because I did not wish to get their hopes up. But I hoped you would meet them and see how they are good people.” Her gaze swings from my face to that of my mate.
“And that you would greet the other drakoni, too.”
“We’ll talk about it,” Dakota says, and reaches for my hand. “But for now, we need to look for a present for a friend. Want to come antique shopping?”
“I would, as long as you explain things to me. Is it not better to throw old, used things away? Your cities are full of such garbage.”
Dakota chuckles, twining her fingers with mine.
“We are a people that love stuff. You might find something you like inside. You never know.” My mate’s gaze meets mine, her eyes soft with affection, and I can almost feel her warm thoughts as she looks at me.
“When we go home, we’ll talk to Aggie about the puppy situation, but they’re far too young to leave the mama dog yet. Until then, we shop.”
“Shop for old things,” Fothessa agrees, glancing at me.
Her scent is full of relief and truth, and it seems this is what she truly came to speak about—a dog to be the eyes of her mate’s son.
“Would your friend rather have food? We can get some things at the fort. I can bargain for corn flour and things like that. They are not cheap, but not impossible, either.”
“Just don’t tell me you have coffee or I might move to the fort myself,” Dakota jokes.
Fothessa just smiles.
From the spike of excitement in Dakota’s scent, I decide I need to find her some coffee.