AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He casts an incredulous look over his shoulder.
Thirty minutes later, we’re locking the door on a spotless apartment. Midas takes my hand and laces our fingers together, while holding Charlie’s leash in the other.
I tell him again that it’s okay if he needs to leave and get some work done, but again, he dismisses the idea.
“What exactly do you do?” I ask.
“I sit on the board for several non-profits, have investments I manage for myself and for my horde, and negotiate territory disputes with other dragons—showing teeth if necessary.”
“Fighting?”
He casts me a sideways glance as we walk down the street. “Sometimes.” His hand warms in mine, and I wonder if he has control over his body heat or if he grows hotter with certain emotions.
“Mostly though,” he continues, “I settle disputes between the members of my own horde.”
“Like the dispute between you and your brother?”
Midas sighs and kisses my knuckles. “I fear that one will only be settled with bloodshed.”
“What’s your relationship like? I mean, it’s clear that it’s strained now, but has it always been that way?”
“No. We were close once. He was my best friend.”
I want to push and find out more, but Midas draws into himself, and I have the sense now isn’t the time. It makes me wonder again if it would be better for me to sacrifice this life and my memories of Midas than to ask him to sacrifice his brother. Or to die at his brother’s hand.
A shiver shakes my spine. I don’t want to think about that last option. If there was something I could do to stop it, to make this choice easier, I would do it. But I feel stuck between a dragon and a crown.
“Are you cold?”
Before I can answer, Midas takes off his coat and wraps it around my shoulders, surrounding me in warmth and the peppery smell I’m coming to recognize as his.
He buys lunch at a little street vendor he says has the best tacos in town, and then we go back to my apartment. While I answer emails about a fundraiser coming up at Finley’s school that I'm on the planning committee for, Midas makes a few calls.
I only hear one side of the conversation, and even that is broken up by his pacing across the apartment, from the kitchen to the bedroom and back. But I can tell from the snippets I catch, he’s a good leader. Firm and no-nonsense, but wise and willing to listen.
Whatever his brother thinks, Midas is an excellent king. And even though I barely met Cyrus, I’m not sure he would wear the responsibility as well.
A lump forms in my throat at the thought of his horde losing his leadership, if I say no.
Midas breaks my thoughts by raising his voice. “How could you be so careless? I told you to keep it quiet.”
He’s loud in the menacing way that’s not a yell, but is even more powerful for its firm control. He paces back into the living room where I’m working without pausing his conversation, clearly not trying to keep it from me. Another thing I appreciate about him. He seems to think I can handle all of this and doesn’t hold back, even if I’m not so sure.
“If they find out about the challenge, they’ll think there’s a power imbalance and strike.” Dark smoke puffs out of his nostrils as someone says something on the other end of the line. Midas drops his voice, and the pressure of it sends a shiver up my spine. “I don’t care if you challenged me. I’m still your king. If a single dragon dies because of your stupidity, it will be on your head, Cyrus. Challenge or no challenge.”
He keeps pacing past me into my bedroom, wearing down the same path he’s made all afternoon. But his steps are heavier now.
And because Finley's always had horrible timing, that's when the front door slams and she walks in.
Her backpack falls with a thud in the entryway. I duck my head into the bedroom and mouth to Midas, my sister is back. He nods in acknowledgement, with the phone still pressed to his ear, smoke still puffing out of his nostrils. But he takes a deep breath and reins it in, knowing I’m not ready for Finley to know he’s a dragon.
When I step back into the living room, Finley has her arms crossed over her chest. “Who’s here?”
“Midas.” I walk back to the couch and push send on the fundraiser email.
“Why?” Her glare could kill. She’d make a formidable dragon.
“I invited him." I stare back at her, refusing to break or bend. "He’s important to me, so you need to give him a chance.”
