Smitten (9 page)

“Um, this isn’t for me. It’s for a friend,” Astrid began. “But you give the best advice and it’s always better than what Daddy or Mom says to do.”

Laughing all the while, Ēostre settled on the cozy loveseat in front of the suite’s flat screen television. “What does your friend need to know?”

“If someone likes a person, but that person doesn’t know it, how should someone tell them?”

The question caught Ēostre off guard. Had Astrid already developed a crush on Javier? Technically, she had reached the physical age in which most powerful dragon parents considered finding mates for their children, and Saul hadn’t looked any older when Fafnir made arrangements with Maximilian. He and Brigid been intended since her birth.

No, of course not. The boy is too young,
Ēostre determined. At seventeen, Astrid resembled most twelve-year-old girls, but Javier barely passed for five despite inheriting his father’s massive height.
Maybe she’s met someone at one of those homeschool support groups Chloe takes her to.

“By being as honest as possible, sweetling. If you like someone, you must always tell them unless some greater reason exists for why you shouldn’t.”

“Like if they’re already married or mated?”

“Exactly,” she said. “Because it is never right to usurp another dragon’s mate. Unless that mate is horrible and their cruelty has been witnessed by three people. Then in accordance with our laws, anyone may intervene to challenge. If they are soul bonded, one may never challenge at all.”

Astrid became quiet for a moment, then she said, “Dragon laws are weird.” Her small nose scrunched.

“Do you find such a law confusing?”

“Well, yes. Daddy doesn’t hit my mom or anything but the other day, while we were watching a movie, she told me some husbands hit their wives because they’re big babies who don’t know any better. And she said the wives stay with them because no one sees what’s happening and they’re afraid to get help.”

“That is true,” Ēostre said sadly. “And it has been true since the dawn of time when humans first began to couple with one another. But when it happens among dragons, it’s between mates who have not yet pledged their soul bond. No male or female would dare to harm the dragon they have vowed to love for eternity. It would be like wounding oneself. It takes immense amounts of love to create a dragon’s soul brand, Astrid. Very much. It cannot be done by force and must be accepted by a willing heart.”

“Oh.”

“So you see, such instances are very rare for us. We dragon females may often be smaller than males, but our breath weapons are more powerful, our claws are sharper, and we are quicker.”

“And smarter,” Astrid said.

“And far smarter,” Ēostre agreed, laughing at her grandchild. “And once we have found a male unworthy, we never stay.”

“Why doesn’t Uncle Max have a mate?”

Ēostre hesitated to answer. She thought of the man in the next room, kind, generous, and everything any dragoness could want. It wasn’t for his lack of trying. Over the years, she’d watched countless females cast him aside for simple, often egotistical reasons. His horns weren’t long enough. His feathers were too drab, and they wanted to birth a cub with feathers like shining embers. They hated his red hair or loathed his freckles, which had practically vanished as he aged. Even his hair had darkened to a subtle cinnamon shade she adored.

Her friend Belenos had matured like the finest wine.

“Because, my love, many of our fellow dragonesses are unworthy of him.”

“Aren’t you worthy?”

“I… I suppose I am,” Ēostre answered honestly.

A heavy fist thumped against Ēostre’s hotel room door. She twisted around to face it and swore under her breath. “I’d better go, Astrid. I promised to join Maximilian for dinner.”

“Oh okay. Have fun!” Astrid ended the video chat without fuss.

Ēostre hurried to the door and yanked it open to find Max appropriately dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt. It was contradictory to the sophisticated businessman she knew but oddly fitting for the occasion. Not that it was the first time she’d seen him in jeans. Or a t-shirt, its sleeves taut around his biceps and stitches strained. There were photos circulating the web about Max, speculating whether or not he’d kept a certain former governor as a physical trainer.

“Max, I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he responded curtly, and then as if seeming to realize his tone of voice, he followed up with a gentler, “I thought something important must have delayed you.”

“It was a video call from Astrid,” she confessed. “But never mind that, what’s wrong? You seem… irritable.”

Maximilian made no effort to smile, and from that, she already knew something was wrong. So rather than grab her purse and head for the door, she took his hand and guided him to the couch.

“Let me order in, all right? General Tso’s and shrimp lo mein for you?”

“Okay,” he agreed easily.

Ēostre didn’t pry, but Max’s bad mood hung around him like a fog for the next two days. He curbed it when in front of the cameras, but whenever they were alone, he brooded in silence and failed to engage her in conversation. Knowing he would consult her when he was ready, Ēostre let him be.

***

The request for her advice came three days after their return to Sacramento. Max had been asked by a prominent technical college to speak at their winter graduation ceremony — whether he was elected or not in November — and Ēostre thought it would be easy to convince him to agree.

“I would be honored,” he replied quietly.

“Your face tells me otherwise,” Ēostre said. “Did something happen while we were in Virginia?”

Max’s low and humorless chuckle worried her as much as the troubled expression on his face. “I find myself in need of your wise counsel. Which is no surprise, as I seem to seek it more often than usual as of late.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Max. I’m your advisor, so please, speak your mind and let me do my job.”

After a tight nod, Max focused his hazel eyes on the city beyond his office windows. They were the most beautiful color — golden amber with tiny specks of blue that reminded her of the heart of a flame.

“Do I need a first lady, Ēostre?”

“A first lady?” The question startled her as much as his change of mood. Her fingers gripped the leather. “What brought this on?”

“Answer the damned question,” Max snapped. “Give me your honest opinion. Is the presence of a first lady required in the White House? Does the American public expect me to have a wife and family?”

Ēostre struggled to regain her composure, put off by his surge of temper as much as she was unsettled by the question. She repeated herself, “What put such a foolish notion in your head?”

Maximilian’s eyes flashed, fire behind the warm caramel color.

“Belenos… What’s wrong?” Her voice softened as she left her chair and crossed the desk to meet him. She sat on the edge of it, facing him, and crossed her legs.

“Mahuika paid a visit after the Virginia speech,” he said gruffly. “She seems to think a wife and child would humanize me to the public, and as such, has offered me both.”

“I see,” Ēostre murmured. “And does her offer tempt you?”

“Very much,” he replied honestly. “I have never blamed Chloe for taking Brigid’s life. If anyone is to bear the blame for those sad events, it should be me for turning a blind eye to my daughter’s cruelty. I spoiled her from birth. I coddled her, Ēostre. I loved my child so dearly I gave her anything she asked until she grew wild, beyond my control. I coveted Saul for a son, and thought if only he would give up his human pet, we could become so much closer and fulfill Fafnir’s wishes. I thought… I thought Saul would become a good influence to tame the ferocity she acquired from her mother.” The fire dragon shook his head. “Instead, I have lost her.”

“Bel—”

“If I had commanded her to release Saul from his obligation, she would be here beside me today.”

“She wouldn’t have listened to you, Belenos. Brigid never listened to you. You gave her every opportunity to make the right choices for herself. None of us can do anything more than teach our offspring right from wrong. We cannot force them to make the right choices.”

“I should have tried harder,” he whispered. “If only I’d done more to raise her differently from her mother.”

Ēostre pressed her palm to Max’s cheek and directed his head until their eyes met. “Tell me this — if Brigid inherited her willful personality from her mother, why consider breeding with Mahuika again?”

Max didn’t answer.

“Do what your heart tells you.” She stepped away and to the cabinet behind his desk, where he kept glasses and a decanter of fine cognac. After she poured him a glass, she recorked the bottle and returned it to the shelf.

“Would you judge me if I accepted her offer?”

“I…” She stopped to gather her thoughts and chose her words carefully. “I would ask myself if she is the example you would want at your side when you lead the country.”

“Each move I make will be scrutinized and studied,” he agreed, nodding. As he slouched back in the seat and raised the glass for a sip, the humor returned to his eyes. “You evaded my question though. That isn’t what I asked.”

“She wouldn’t be my choice for a proper match,” Ēostre admitted beneath his gaze. “I don’t believe she’d be good for the office, either. Or your reputation.”

“Still not what I asked.”

Ēostre pressed her lips in a thin line. “As your campaign manager, yes, I would judge you for the poor decision.”

“I’m not asking my campaign manager. It was a question for my closest friend.”

“I think you could do better. More importantly, you
deserve
better.”

“Then I will seek a better match,” he told her, wearing another one of his crooked smiles. The kind that brightened his eyes and made him seem more approachable than any other volcanic dragon Ēostre had ever met in her two thousand years.

A palpable sense of relief rushed over her, and only then did Ēostre realize, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him with Mahuika — she didn’t want to see Maximilian with
any
dragoness.

Because she wanted him for herself, and knew the day another female dragon chose him, it would also be the day she lost her closest friend. Losing Fafnir had been hard enough, but having Max stolen beyond her reach would be next to unforgivable.

If you like someone, you must always tell them.
The words spoken to her grandchild came back to haunt her.

How could I possibly act on these feelings when he has never looked at me with anything more than the love for a friend?
Ēostre wondered. Was her desire for Maximilian genuine and true attraction, or a lusty byproduct of a century-long period of abstinence while mourning?

Contact with unrelated dragon males over the years since her awakening had been brief, and those she did talk to were often already bound in mated relationships. Ēostre frowned.

“Is something wrong, Ēostre?”

She shook her head and put a pleasant smile on her face. “I was only thinking of how correct you are about my need to indulge in some selfish activities.”

“Ah. At last, this moment has come. I am the master and you are the apprentice. Let me train you, my young Padawan, in the art of putting oneself first.”

Ēostre rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. “Are you quoting mortal movies at me again?” At least it was a decent one. “I can come up with something on my own, thanks.”

“Are you sure? Last chance to back out.”

“I’m not backing out. In fact, I have a great idea.”

Maximilian’s dubious expression delivered a blow to her ego, but she chuckled anyway and leaned close enough to hug him.

“I know it’s only noon, but I’m going home. Astrid wants to cook dinner and I promised I’d return on time to eat it fresh from the oven.”

“I see she takes after her mother.”

Ēostre chuckled. “Saul has improved since that casserole disaster, thank you very much. You should join us. I’m sure she’d be happy to provide for her Uncle Max as well.”

“A tempting offer but one I must take a rain check on. I have a few pressing business matters to conclude.”

“Perhaps next time,” she said, pleased when he answered her with a smile.

Unlike her son, who usually summoned his genie to sweep him along the California interstate to his mountainside retreat, she enjoyed the long drive and used the time to clear her head and unwind to music. She was halfway between Sacramento and the manor when an incoming call jarred her from her thoughts.

“Did you forget something?” She forced a chipper tone after accepting the call through the automobile’s speakerphone.

“I did,” his rich voice spilled from the speakers. “I had intended to ask something else of you before our conversation veered to tenser subjects regarding Mahuika. An invitation arrived this morning to Senator Duhane’s 55th birthday party next Friday. Care to join me?”

“You’ve only invited me to keep you out of trouble.”