“That’s my cue. I’ll have Viraj readied, and the car pulled around.” Gatlin excused himself.
Teige needed to keep close watch on Ashwin.
And he needed to go back home sooner than later.
Chapter Eighteen
Gatlin
Two servants walked in quiet tow behind Gatlin as he navigated the estate and brought them to a room that had once been a sitting parlor that Leo had turned into his office, whittling away his days talking sense into the dragons of broken Dettes.
“Karam? Mahava?” Gatlin offered the two a place to sit on Leo’s expansive couch.
“I prefer to kneel, Lord Stoor.” Mahava lowered his head, thick lashes lining his hooded eyes as he sank to the floor in a demure pose.
“Do as you wish. Things within my household are far more informal.” Gatlin took a seat in a chair in the corner, glancing up when a wiry male strutted in, a ginger-haired little Dette at his heel.Frikka and Cinder.
“Think it wise to let Cinder in here?” Gatlin gave Frikka a long stare.
“Either he comes willingly where we can talk through the difficult parts, or he drops the eaves and does what he pleases.” Frikka sighed, and Cinder strutted up to the kneeling Mahava.
He stared at the kneeling male and squinted. He tilted his head and frowned. “Why?”
Mahava glanced at the Dette and then toward Gatlin and then Frikka.
“You may speak,” Gatlin said, gesturing for Mahava to address the boy.
“Little Dette, what is it you ask?” Mahava lowered his head and moved as if he wanted to bow.
“Why do you have that thing in your neck?” Cinder frowned and reached a hand out, halting as the Hijada flinched, shoulders pinching, body shaking.
“What do you see, little one?” Frikka crossed his arms, face stony. “You have what I don’t.”
“Their dragons are scared and broken. I can’t see if they’re a Dette or a Drake. And they have a nail in their neck.” Cinder stepped back as Mahava seized up, tears welling in his eyes.
“Are you a Dette or a Drake?” Cinder stared at Mahava and then glanced toward the still-standing Karam. “And you?”
“We are not dragons. We are Hijada.” Karam’s voice came out small and broken.
“Are you like my papa when he didn’t know he was a dragon?” Cinder stared at Mahava again and prodded at his neck when the male gave him a permissive slouch.
“We are born from the union of dragons, but we are not dragons. We are neither Dette nor Drake. We are Hijada. Other.” Karam reached down and rested a hand on Mahava’s head and sighed.
“So why you got the little silver bit in there?” Cinder tapped at Mahava’s neck as the male shook violently, breath hitching. “It’s pressed up against important stuff… I think. Is that what it means when all the lights there are brighter?”
Gatlin had no idea what the Dette meant, but Frikka seemed to understand, giving him a nod.
“Do you want it in there?” Cinder prodded at the male’s neck again.
Mahava didn’t respond, only continued to shake so horribly.
“Generally, they do not,” Gatlin spoke up, relaxing in his seat. “I don’t like to bring attendants into my home held captive. If you stay with us, we’ll work to remove it. Some can be, but we’re still rese—”
“Why?” Cinder stared at Mahava’s neck. “Why would they put that there?”
Frikka opened his mouth to speak, clearly at a loss for words. Karam spoke, though. “It is placed there to separate usfrom the dragon. Because we are not dragons. We are not mate material to a Drake or a Dette. We are born to serve—”
“Well, that’s shit. Can I take it out?” Cinder traced his finger over a small scar over Mahava’s neck.
