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Claiming Aya

Page 87

by Tessa Stone

“The Mer?” Amari asks.

“I’m going to be their guide.” I squeak it at least an octave higher than I planned.

“I’ve seen them once,” Amari says, “but that was eight hundred years ago.”

“Eight hundred years.” I gape at him. Everyone he knew back then is a portrait on a wall by now. “I can’t even wrap my head around that.”

“When you have the gift of immortality, the days and years blur together,” Amari says. “The centuries bleed into one another, and only the most significant moments stand out.” He flashes his fangs at me. My wolf pushes forward for a better read. Fancy suit or not, he’s still a vampire.

“Oh,” I breathe.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Ezra tells him.

“And I’ll be with the Mer,” I add. I can’t wait to show Sirena and her brothers around Wintermoon.

Amari dips his head to me and taps his watch. The digital screen reappears, and he dives into his code again. I guess that’s our cue to leave.

Ezra’s wings extend from his back. He scoops me up and launches us into the air. The workers and the planetarium shrink below us. Soon it’s nothing but treetops from here to Ash Clan territory.

I lock my arms around his neck and hang on. Even with our marks on each other, I’m still not used to calling him my mate in my head.

Ezra brings us down outside his father’s cabin. His wings are gone by the time I step back to eye the place.

“Don’t you want to speak to Valek first?” I ask.

“Not really.” Ezra heads for the steps.

I purse my lips and keep my opinion to myself. He kisses my hand and pulls me up onto the porch. The wood creaks under us.

He twists the knob and pushes the door open without bothering to knock. I follow him inside with my wolf wide awake and nosy.

Tyrion comes out of an office tucked under the stairs. I swallow a giggle. Ezra has the exact same setup in his cabin, star charts and all. My mate is his father’s son for real.

Tyrion stops short and sniffs at us. When he sees our marks, he breaks into a big grin.

“At last!” he booms. “Mother Fate set this in motion years ago, and I’ve waited for it since my son’s dragon caught your scent.” He steps closer and clasps his hands in front of him. “You know Polaris, the North Star? Everything else in the sky turns around it, but it stays put. That’s how sure I was about you two.”

He hauls Ezra into a tight hug and thumps him on the back. “Good job, my boy.”

He lifts me clean off my feet next and squeezes the air out of my lungs. “Welcome home, daughter!”

“Thank you, Tyrion,” I gasp when he sets me down.

He beams at me. “It’s Father now.”

I press my lips together until my eyes quit burning. My wolf rolls over for him without a fight. I’m not far behind her.

“This is cause for celebration,” he continues as he bustles toward the kitchen. “Your mother is at the medical center, but she’ll return by nightfall. Please, stay with us. I’ll prepare a meal, and Claudia will join us soon.”

“I would love to celebrate with you, Father,” Ezra replies, “but I’m here for other circumstances.”

Tyrion pauses. “Oh?”

“The Mer, Father.” Ezra straightens beside me, and heat rolls off him. “You knew about them and didn’t say anything.”

Tyrion rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “Son, I am no longer Stormscale.”

Smoke curls from Ezra’s nostrils in thin gray streams. “You are Stormscale. What the hell are you talking about?” It thickens and leaks from his ears too. “You’ve been purposely avoiding them.”