Page 4

Chapter 4

Campfire Stories

Blake

Xavier and I had finished up setting the (not needed) tents and sat around the crackling fire. Maddox brought out a big pan of fresh pizza topped with mozzarella slices, honeyed ham, red onions, and bright green spinach. Next to it was a smooth wooden bowl overflowing with greasy, golden garlic bread.

My mouth instantly watered.

I went for the garlic bread first, Xavier dive-bombing the pizza. He moaned as he leaned back in his seat and chewed.

Focus on the bread. The bread is delicious. The moan—bread is great.

“Want a bite?” Xavier asked me as his half-bitten pizza hung in the air, cheese dripping off in tantalizing glops.

“Yes,” I said. And instead of doing what any other normal supernatural would do, like reach out to grab it, I instead leaned forward and opened my mouth.

I basically asked my bodyguard to feed me.

And he did. I realized what I was doing way too late. I couldn’t slap my mouth shut fast enough. He got a piece of the pizza in there. The thick cheese mixed with the rich tomato sauce and the handmade dough to create an explosion of pure decadence.

But I was scared to bite. I had my eyes locked with Xavier, pizza trapped in my mouth, the moment growing to nuclear levels of awkwardness.

“Are you… going to let go?”

I bit down. Swallowed. Wanted to bury my head in the cracked sand.

The pizza lodged in my throat, and my eyes grew wide. I choked, trying to get it out. I gasped, trying to get air in. I honestly couldn’t believe this was happening right now.

Xavier dropped the pizza and rushed behind me. He wrapped his strong arms around my body and gave three hard squeezes. The pizza flew out into the campfire, making sparks fly and the scent of burning crust cloud the air.

Xavier still had his arms around me. He leaned in and asked, “Are you good?”

I nodded. I nearly forgot to speak. “Right, yeah. I’m fine. Thank you.”

He didn’t let go of me. “You scared me.”

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for anything.”

He chuckled. The vibrations carried from his chest and through my back. “Trust me when I say I am.”

Heat glowed bright through my veins. And it wasn’t from the nearby campfire.

Alright. Time to break off this Heimlich hug. I stepped forward, and his arms fell back to his sides.

We got back to our seats around the fire and each grabbed a fresh slice of pizza. I was extra careful with my chewing and swallowing. A repeat of that would be a fucking disaster I did not want to invite into my life.

Xavier was good about brushing it all away. He didn’t linger or make me feel like a fool. Even though part of me felt like one. It was odd. I didn’t normally fumble around like this. I’d been navigating different social circles since I was a kid. My family had always been in politics, so it came with the territory. And I did it well. Everyone took to me, even though it was likely my father’s attention they were after.

Maybe that had done something to me? Now that the attention was truly placed on me for once, I just didn’t know how to handle it.

Especially when it came from someone who looked like Xavier Blackthorne.

All corded muscle and chiseled jaw and sloping shoulders, all softened by the friendly, golden retriever-esque smile he sported or the caring energy he put off.

I could handle backstabbing and ass-kissing snobs all day, but Xavier threw off my entire equilibrium. I wasn’t quite sure if I liked it yet.

We finished dinner and started getting things ready for bed, a hearty conversation on who we thought was winning the Haleball Championships carrying us through. There was already a very luxurious outhouse built up against the rock formation that separated us from the main house. I went in there and had a quick shower in the tiled, open-air bathroom. I soaped up as I craned my neck back to look at the stars beginning to clock in for their night shifts.

A pleasant feeling washed over me as the eucalyptus soap swirled down the drain. As awkward as the night had been, I was beginning to feel like things were alright. I was set to start on my master’s degree in public relations at an extremely difficult school to get into. I had protection from… well, I wasn’t quite sure of what. But at least my bodyguard was a hot-as-fucking-balls dragon. My dad was in the absolute best possible position he’d ever been in his career.

Everything was good.

I finished in the shower and changed into a pair of white cotton shorts and a gray tank top. I wasn’t anywhere near as muscular or as fit as Xavier, but I did occasionally go to the gym, and I had a personal trainer on and off. I gave my hair a little shake-up with my hands. I didn’t want to look like a freshly showered mess.

Night had fallen like a dark drape over the sky. Without any nearby light pollution, I could make out every individual constellation. I found my favorite one: the Archer. He was close to the Bear and the Phoenix, just above the Marvel.

He symbolized protection and true aim. His arrow never missed. With the Archer watching over you, safety was a near guarantee.

“You like looking at the stars?” Xavier asked. He sat on a low chair next to his tent, the back tilted so he, too, could gaze up at the starry expanse. He had his legs open, his shorts high enough so that I could see the ring of gold scales around his thigh. If they were any shorter, I’d be seeing a lot more of him.

“I do.” I grabbed another chair and dragged it next to him. “I’m a big astrology buff.”

“Oh, really? Tell me what I’m looking at, then.”

I sat down and looked up. A map formed in my vision, connecting invisible lines between the bright dots. I pointed out a few to him: the Gorgon, the Actress, the Mother, the Bear.

“And that’s the Archer. It’s my favorite one.”

Xavier perked up. He looked at me, the fire making his eyes sparkle. “That’s interesting. Archery is one of my favorite sports. I’ve been trying to teach myself how to make a bow and quiver out of sand.”

“How’s that going?”

He lifted his open hand, empty, and closed it around a long and lethal-looking arrow that was the color of sand but appeared to be as solid as if it were made of the strongest wood. The arrowhead looked incredibly sharp. “This is the only thing I can create so far. The bow doesn’t form for me, much less a quiver. I’ve done it a few times before but just can’t manage to make it consistent.”

“Why do you think that is?”

He shrugged before he pushed the arrow into the ground. It stuck in the dirt before it collapsed into a small cascade of sand. “I’m not exactly sure. I’ve got some kind of block. It also takes a lot of training to create weapons from our powers. Guess I just need to find a source of inspiration.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said, looking back up at the stars. “Honestly, I don’t think I know all that much about dragons.”

Xavier opened his arms and wore a happy grin. “Ask away, then. Let me be your dragon guide.”

“That’s fine,” I said with a laugh. “I can google it myself. I don’t want to keep you up too late.”

“Blake, I’d stay awake until the sun came back up for you.” He cleared his throat. “To protect you.”

Right. Of course. That’s what he meant. I swallowed and tried not to focus on the pleasant feeling that rose from that thought.

Protect.

Such a powerful word. It anchored itself in my chest.

“Okay,” I said, deciding to learn straight from the source. “I heard you mention that this was your hatching grounds… is that true?”

He nodded and took a sip of the beer he’d been holding. “It is. Dragons normally find deserts like these to lay and hatch their eggs. There’s plenty of space, lots of warm, soft dirt to dig in, and not much foot traffic that could disturb the clutch. Mom actually laid us on the same spot the house was built, around that rock formation.”

“Whoa, that’s interesting. And how long do you, um, incubate?”

“It varies. The average range is three to seven years after we were laid. And we don’t all hatch at the same time. Damien was the first to hatch, making him the oldest. There could be years before the next sibling hatches, or it could be days.”

“Huh, yeah, I had no idea that happened. I thought you guys just… I don’t know, were born like everyone else.”

Xavier winked at me. For some reason, it made my stomach feel kind of twisted. But in a good way.

“This is probably a dumb question, but when do you consider it to be your birthday?”

“Not a dumb question at all,” Xavier said. He had one hand casually resting between his legs. For a few fleeting seconds, I thought of how lucky that hand must be. “We have two days we celebrate. Our clutch day is when we were laid; we all share that. And our birthday—or hatch day, as some dragons like to say—is when we officially break out of our shells.”

“And when do you take your human form?”

“Depends on the mother. If she receives us in human form, then we instantly shift in her arms. If she’s in dragon form, then we take a little longer. It’s almost like imprinting.”

“And your mother? Was she human when you hatched?”

Xavier’s gaze turned distant. He readjusted himself in his seat, as if he realized he was uncomfortable with how he sat. Was I annoying him?

“Sorry if I’m asking too many questions.”

He turned his head to look at me. The discomfort appeared to be wiped clean, a gleaming smile in its place. “It’s fine. You can ask as many questions as you want. But yes, she was in human form to receive all of us. We had our human forms from our hatch day.”

“That’s really interesting… Do you want to ask me questions?”

Xavier cocked his head. His grin slanted with him. “What would be your ideal date?”

I choked on my spit. It didn’t cause as big of a show as that damn pizza. “I meant questions about me being a shifter.”

“Oh, I already know all about shifters. I want to get to know more about you.”

Red flag. Red flag. All the warning signs blared at me to STOP. TURN AROUND. THIS IS TROUBLE.

“I like simple with a dash of bougie. Maybe like a private room inside a really nice restaurant. Somewhere with unique food. Nowhere that’s really busy. That makes me nervous. And then followed up by a chill night in. Pajamas and cocktails and a movie in the background.”

“And what would be happening in the foreground?” Xavier asked. His voice was almost a purr.

I swallowed. Ignored the heat that swelled inside me. “Crossword puzzles. And, um, crochet.”

We both knew that was all gryphonshit.

I glanced at my watch. I usually didn’t go to bed for another two hours. “Well, I should be going to bed,” I said, standing up on slightly cramped legs. We’d been sitting and talking for longer than I realized. “It’s getting late.”

“Really? It’s only eight thirty.”

“Maybe it was all the work I put in pitching that tent.”

Not the greatest choice of words.

Xavier ran a hand through his loose curls, stopping at his neck. He had a black leather band on his wrist with a golden sun-shaped clasp. “Next time you need help pitching a tent, you let me know.”

The innuendo was loud and clear and hot as fuck. “I will, right, um, I’ll just keep that tutorial video bookmarked.”

He chuckled as he stood. He held a hand toward the fire. Sand streamed from his palm and pooled onto the fire. It left nothing but wisps of smoke trying to rise up from under the sand.

“I’ll be in the tent right next to you. Shout if you need anything. Even if it’s a cuddle.”

I opened the flap of my tent. “I will. Not that I’ll need a cuddle, but I’ll shout… Do all bodyguards offer cuddles?”

He shot me a wink. “Only the good ones.”