Page 11 of A Very Denarius Christmas
The whole time I said it, as deadpan as I could manage, I stared dead on into my mate’s gorgeous amethyst eyes, all while carving a piece of my steak. How I managed that feat without taking a chunk out of my finger I couldn’t say, unless the fates were on my side and looking out for me.
Yeah, let’s roll with that.
“Oh no, that night, it was the storm that scared the fire out of him, as the winds howled outside and branches crashed against the roof from time to time. It was one of those thuds that scared him, while he was marveling at the tree. We didn’t have strands of lights back then. Our ornaments consisted mostly of handmade things.”
“Aye,” Hamish said. “I remember those days. We’d collect pinecones and use ribbons to adorn them and attached them to the tree. Bits of old, colorful clothing were quilted into the shapes of stars and hung among the pinecones, interspaced with woven ones.”
“Knox always insisted upon sitting on my shoulders so he could reach the highest branches,” Great-gramps said. “He was a squirmy one, too. He nearly fell off more than once, giggling and wiggling around the way he was, but he decorated every branch, clapping in between the ornaments he placed. That’s how he singed the mouse’s whiskers. There was a crash upon the roof thunderous enough that I’d have sworn the whole tree fell upon it.”
“Of course, there was the other fear too,” Hamish recalled. “That it was an enemy dragon who’d landed and was attempting to gain entry. Which, in hindsight, might not have been the best thing to say when there was already a panicked dragonet wailing about the noise.”
“You didn’t?” I said, picturing the protectiveness Griffin already displayed.
“He did,” Great-gramps said, shaking his head as he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Which is why I sent him and Ignatius out to see if that was indeed the case, while I turned the tree so the charred parts wouldn’t be visible once Knox settled down.”
“How did you keep the tree from going up completely?” I asked, because that was a method that would truly be helpful to know if our dragonets didn’t have their flames in check come next year.
“I didn’t,” Great-gramps explained. “It was Silven. He encased the flames in a bubble, and when the oxygen ran out, poof, the fire stopped burning.”
“He smothered it,” I murmured.
“Indeed, he did,” Great-gramps said. “He won more battles with those bubbles of his than any mage I’ve ever met. He was, in many ways, our version of your Raven. Bred for battle, armed with spells of protection and incantations that allowed him to turn our enemies’ powers back on them. He helped train many a dragon in how to control their magic, but he was ancient even then, and time catches up to all of us, I’m afraid.”
“Was he a dragon?” I asked.
“A half-dragon, aye, he was of Drakemyre blood. His mother was dragon, his father an elemental mage who passed along a wealth of power to his son. Our clan has always embraced the mates the fates have given us, regardless of whether they were full dragon or not. It was one of the many things that put us in the crosshairs of the Gorynych.”
“I love that about us,” I said, feeling a surge of pride at learning that part of our family history.
“As do I,” Gramps said, as the other heads around the table nodded too.
“What on roof?” Luna asked.
For a moment, we were all on alert. My warrior husband, along with Hamish and Ignatius, coming half out of their chairs before it dawned on all of us that my wise, brilliant little dragonet had been listening to the story and wanted to hear more.
“Well, little one,” Great-gramps said. “It was Christmas Eve and Santa had arrived to deliver the presents.”
She squealed and clapped at hearing that, for about three seconds, then cocked her head as her eyes grew wide. “But you not asleep.”
“No, we weren’t,” he replied. “But Santa was wise to the ways of dragons and knew that many of us were nocturnal beings, so he slid down the chimney anyway, and delivered all the presents.”
“How he no burn?”
“The same way you didn’t when your brothers burned your tutu,” he explained.
“I no burn ‘cause I dragon!” She declared, then her eyes grew big again. “Is Santa a dragon?”
Great-gramps chuckled at that. “He is indeed, sweet girl. Who else could fly all around the world in a single night?”
“Papa.” She declared. “Papa pull a sleigh in one night.”
“I just bet he could,” I said, grinning over at my mate.
Talk about a match point. Let’s see my mate get out of the sleigh I requested. There was no way now, not with his baby girl grinning at him across the table.
“Where the reindeer?” She asked a moment later.
That mind of hers never stopped. May she never stop seeking knowledge. It would be a beautiful thing to watch her learn, though something told me that there would be times when I’d be tagging in my bestie, Emerson, to answer questions for her, since that was one dragon who knew a whole lot about many things relating to our heritage.