Page 5

“Right. I’ll do that.” But how? I had no fucking idea. Suri was the only resource I had, and even he was telling me Dylan’s father was the only one who could help.

I led Dylan out of the school. It was a gorgeous late-spring day in Atlanta, with clear skies and the trees exploding with dense green leaves. Dylan didn’t seem to notice any of it. He dragged his feet to the car, then dropped morosely into the passenger seat. He tugged his red backpack into his lap and curled around it like a little dragon with a hoard.

I slid into the driver’s seat, but didn’t start the car.

“M’sorry,” Dylan muttered. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to? What do you mean? You don’t accidentally punch somebody, Dyl.” I turned the key in the ignition and began to drive home.

Dylan huffed, frustrated. “I know! I just…” He trailed off. He pulled his knees close to his body, bag still in his lap, like he was making himself as small as possible. He stared out the window as the quiet neighborhood streets rolled by. Dylan had always been small for his age. He had a mop of wavy blond hair, hazeleyes, and a smattering of freckles across his face just like mine. He was whip-smart, leaps and bounds ahead of his peers, but I knew he struggled to express himself. Especially now, when his shifter puberty was starting to rear its head.

“He called you a name that made you angry?” I prompted.

“It wasn’t only that,” Dylan grumbled.

“Then what was it?”

“He said I’d never be good at shifting because I didn’t have a dad,” Dylan said. “He’s a wolf. He said dragons are always difficult. And that’s why I don’t have a dad. And that made me so mad I… I was so mad I hit him. It happened so fast. I really didn’t mean to, Mom, I promise.”

My grip tightened on the steering wheel. My kid might be the shifter, but I felt a sudden rush of dragon-rage myself. But at the same time, I felt my heart break, too. Kids could be so mean. And this was my fault, too. I’d avoided this conversation for too long, and now Dylan was paying the price.

“I’m sorry too, kiddo.”

Dylan glanced over at me, surprise obvious in his wide eyes.

“It’s your shifter puberty,” I said. “It can make it harder for you to control your emotions. You’re going through a lot of changes right now, and I know it’s overwhelming.”

“The other shifters at school seem like they’re fine.”

“They might be. They might not be. Dragon shifters have it a little harder.” I glanced over at him, then turned my attention back to the road. “Your shifted form is bigger, stronger, and a lot more powerful than a lot of other shifters. Growing up into that shape is a big challenge, physically and emotionally.”

“Is that why my dad didn’t want me?”

He said it so matter-of-factly that my heart broke all over again.

“No. It had nothing to do with you, Dyl, and everything to do with me and him. It wasneveranything to do with you.”

“Mm.” He didn’t sound convinced.

I swallowed hard around the sudden tightness in my throat. But how could I convince him otherwise? How could I explain to my son that I couldn’t talk about his father because the memory hurt too much? I’d waited too long, and now Dylan was suffering for it.

My heartbreak turned to stony determination. Dylan was my top priority in life. I couldn’t let him continue to suffer because of my own ancient hangups. If Suri was right, then these outbursts would only get worse and worse, until… Until what? His first shift? I had no idea what a first shift would be like, anyway. What if he was in pain? What if he was hurting, alone, confused, and had no one around who could help him?

If he needed his father—fuck it, I’d take him to his father. I was a big girl. I could handle it.

I had to.

“How do you feel about a little trip this summer?”

Dylan looked even more surprised. “What? Where?”

“Let’s go spend a few weeks with your grandmother. I think the change of scenery would be good for us both.”

“We’re going to Lakeview?”

“I think we will,” I said with a nod. “What do you think?”

“I think those wolves at school will be glad I’m gone,” Dylan muttered.