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“They were gifts.”
I looked over my shoulder to see the iciness in his stare grow colder, making me shiver. The power in his words seemed to shake me, ten times more than the mountain ever could.
Forcing myself to walk as a lightning bolt of jealousy shot through me, I pretended not to care that maybe women gave him these books. Hundreds of them, females and books.
I blew out a long breath. Not even mated and completely jealous already. Imagine that. A month ago, I was running for my damned life through the woods and even was ready and willing to be a part of Charlotte’s pack if it meant I didn’t have to mate these three, and now look at me, bound to them heart and soul, no matter how much my mind continued to reject the notion.
“Gifts?” I asked, trying hard to somehow deny the need to know in my voice.
He stood and tossed his pen on the open journal, also leather. I should’ve known. “These were all given to me when I was growing up, by my parents.”
My breath halted as my lungs seized, watching him walk over to me, more like prowl. His eyes roamed my body as those fists opened and closed, opened and closed. Damn it, I wanted those hands on me, tugging at my skin, pulling me into passion.
“No monster trucks or building sets? Just…old books?”
He chuckled and came to stand next to me, close but so far away from where I wanted him. “Not from my parents. I actually never had toys. The only times I played with toys was when I had scheduled playdates with the children of their friends, pre-approved and monitored friends, you know.”
No. I didn’t know. I was allowed to play with the lesser children. Hilda was a hands-off kind of parent, even though she wasn’t my mother. I was allowed to run free to a point and play until there was dirt under my fingernails, sweat on my brow, and my shoes were surely nowhere to be found. I had toys, mostly handmade by Hilda, a doll as my best friend.
“This one looks like it weighs more than a toddler.” I tapped my finger on one of them, and he laughed. The sound of it wrapped around my torso and squeezed. I wanted to hear more of that, more and more and knowing I’d never be fulfilled.
“Hmm…there are plenty like that.”
“What? Were they trying to buy your love with books?”
His pale-blue eyes darted to meet mine. “This was their guilt in a tangible form. They never spent time with me. They were socialites and high in society. They valued their place in the dragon clan more than life…more than anything or anyone else. I was raised by nannies. They came in and out like groceries, never staying more than a couple of months. I learned to rely on myself and no one else.”
“That must’ve been lonely for a kid.”
He nodded and walked back to the desk and sat down. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him he would never be alone again but Soren’s shield was back up fully.
“It was life. I learned to deal with it.”
I moved to sit on the edge of his desk and he growled, deep in his chest. I touched a book on the corner, and his posture completely changed. It was the book he’d presented to me as a mating gift.
A mating gift I had inadvertently denied.
“I have reading to do, female. Anyway, I think I heard Jude come in.” I touched his shoulder lightly, but he froze in place. “Time’s up, Freya.”
Chapter Six
The only gifts he—he being Soren—had ever received from his parents were books.
Despite his coolish way of discussing it, that small child, the hatchling he had been, had been conditioned to consider a gift of a book as an expression of caring from the people who loved him best. And maybe they had felt the same way about it. I knew less than nothing about their relationships with their parents. Were books a family tradition?
And was that a bad thing? As a lesser, I’d had very little time or resources to read. Not all of my level even had the ability, but Hilda made sure I received as much education as she could finagle for me. I’d never be a scholar like Soren, but I could read. And do basic sums. And I had a particular love of science, especially as it related to the stars. One of the tutors who had found time for me in exchange for some of Hilda’s herbal remedies or teas…or something…was an elderly arthritic dragon who had once been sought after for his knowledge of the skies and beyond. By the time he came to teach me, he was no longer officially working at all. He had a tendency to mumble and to live in the past.
But his knowledge and wisdom remained intact, and the hours I’d spent sitting on the ledge outside his rooms, studying the sky and learning about the stars and the comets and planets and how they could be used to foretell or predict what might happen were among the happiest of my childhood.
When he passed on, I mourned him like a grandfather lost.
And so did Hilda. They had been friends…maybe more?
So, back to the books and my lack of awareness of what they meant to Soren. He had gifted me with something very special to him. And I had rejected it, and him, coldly. I wanted to go back and grab the book, to take it with me, but how? Lost in thought, I slammed right into the comforting bulk of my foster mother and almost sent both of us tumbling to the floor.
“Child, easy.” Hilda gripped my shoulders as we swayed. “Where is your mind, that you didn’t even see me walking right toward you?” She dusted me off, although I hadn’t actually fallen or anything, but it was nice, like when I was a little girl. “Is everything all right?”
I shook my head, studying the floor between our feet. “Nothing is all right. I’ve made a big mess out of everything. Can I come back and live with you?”
