Page 22

Aurora

“W ho I was?” I whispered, returning my stare to the wild frenzy of flames as they danced and reached for the sky high above them, uncaring of anything else.

“Yes. Tell me about yourself. Where did you learn to build a fire?”

I smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “When I was young, my family would go camping several times a year. That’s where I learned. Since then, I’ve gone camping and hiking often enough to not forget.”

The weight of Damian’s stare was palpable. Out of the very corner of my eyes, I could see him looking at me as I stared into the depths of the fire. I stayed that way, not wanting him to detect any pain in my voice.

“Why do you sound sad about that?” he asked softly.

Apparently, it didn’t matter what I wanted. He noticed anyway.

I closed my eyes. “It’s a long story.”

“As it happens, I have all night to listen to you. Unless you’ve got other plans,” he added wryly.

My lips quivered, but the smile died before it could bloom. Too much hurt could do that.

“If it’s too much,” Damian added hurriedly, “then don’t.”

“I know.” I took a deep breath. Perhaps it was time I told someone, talked to them about the pain that had never left. That would probably never leave. If it were my fate to be exiled among dragons for the rest of my life, what did it matter?

“Someone hurt you, didn’t they?” Damian’s hand found my leg, giving it a squeeze.

“Yes,” I said, the crackle of flames nearly drowning out my half-whispered reply.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. You didn’t deserve it.”

“How can you be so sure?” There it was. The question I’d been wrestling with, trying to understand. I’d been doing the right thing, looking into what my father was up to, hadn’t I? So, why was I the one getting punished and not him?

It wasn’t fair!

“Because I’ve seen who you are,” he said quietly.

Only when he gave another squeeze did I become aware that his hand had never left my leg. It sat there, halfway up my thigh, just resting. And I hadn’t even noticed.

Or did I, and I didn’t care? Perhaps I need the reassurance right now. I don’t like this topic.

“Will you tell me what happened?” he urged gently.

I took a deep breath, held it for a pair of beats, then let it out slowly through my lips, all the while lost in the dance of the red-orange flames.

“I told you my father is a senator.”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s a powerful one. When I was young, he was always talking about helping people out, making the country a better place. I grew up essentially idolizing the ground he walked on. I wanted to be him, to do the same thing. So, I entered politics.”

Damian grunted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that I have some experience with the realm of politics,” he said knowingly. “I would expect it was jarring.”

“That’s putting it politely.” I nodded slowly. “But with my father there, someone who had done it, gone through it, and was still unscathed, why couldn’t I be?”

Damian’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing. Did he sense where I was going? Was it that predictable?

“The more I became exposed to the world of politics, the more I wondered. Questions arose. Things I couldn’t explain. The image the public saw compared to what I heard when I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It didn’t add up. So, I hired a private investigator to see if they could find anything.”

“How bad?” he asked, pulling himself into a sitting position at last, the muscles of his forehead relaxing. Whatever had been bothering him seemed to have passed.

“Worse than you can imagine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Bribery, embezzlement, fraud, the works. He’s trying to set himself up as the puppeteer from the shadows. Everything I thought I knew about him was wrong. It was all lies!”

I subsided abruptly, breathing heavily. Damian nodded but said nothing. We sat in silence next to one another, staring at the fire. Seconds became minutes. I fed it more wood to keep the flames going, basking in the warmth pouring off it.

“I’m sorry,” Damian said sometime later, “that you had to go through that betrayal. Nobody should have to put up with that.”

There was a genuine sorrow in his words, a sadness and empathy I appreciated. More than that, though, there was a lack of finality when he went silent again. As if there was more.

“Say it,” I told him, waving a hand in the air between us. “Whatever it is, just get it out. Don’t bother holding back with me. I can take it.”

The left side of his face curved up in a smile. “Actually, I wasn’t going to say anything rude. All I was going to say is that if it hadn’t happened to you, I would never have met you. Never would have realized that there are humans out there who are worth it.”

Worth it?

“Worth what?”

Damian glanced at me, locking eyes briefly, letting me see into them for a split second before he focused back on the fire. “My respect.”

The heaviness with which he replied bespoke a lot of retrospection. How much time had he spent thinking about humans? More importantly, why?

“That can’t be easy to say. Someone like you is probably quite set in their ways.”

“Someone like me?”

“You know. A stickler for the rules. Someone who can’t follow the spirit of the law but instead must obey it by the letter.”

He leaned away while giving me a long side stare. “Is that how you think of me? A stickler for the rules?”

“Well,” I shrugged, “you are, Damian.”

“I’m the magistrate,” he said defensively. “Making sure the law is followed is my job. It’s who I am.”

“That’s the point,” I said quickly. “It doesn’t have to be both of those. Just one. It’s your job. It doesn’t have to be who you are.”

“Easy to say. Not so easy in reality.”

“Why not? You seem smart. You should be able to differentiate the two.”

He barked a laugh. “Thank you. I think. But it’s not me I was referring to. I suspect I could do as you say and keep the two separate. Most couldn’t. They would see me on duty, and then if I were to act differently while off duty, they would use that as an excuse. A reason that they should also be able to do same.”

“But—”

“Where does it end?” He shook his head sadly. “How much happens when I’m not the perfect image of a magistrate day in and day out? The line has to be drawn somewhere, Aurora, and that means it must start with me . I cannot afford to be seen as anything but a ‘stickler for the rules,’ as you put it. Because others look to me for guidance.”

“Surely, there must be others,” I protested. “Why does it all have to be on your shoulders?”

“The sovereign has appointed me magistrate. That comes with the territory.” He shrugged, looking into the fire once more, the flames dancing in the endless depths of those magnetic gray eyes of his.

Something tightened the edges of his eyes.

“That’s not all, though, is it?” I asked, taking a guess.

“We all have family,” he said, suddenly meeting my gaze with renewed intensity. “Family that perhaps does not reflect well on us. Makes it difficult.”

“Your family doesn’t like what you do?” I tried to look away, to find something else to focus on, but I couldn’t. My eyes were locked on Damian. Every nerve ending in my body was coming alive, sending a cascade of reports to my brain, overwhelming it with information.

“My family is more the type that I see in my job than a guiding light to aid me along.”

“I’m sorry.” The warmth from the fire was spreading across my arm and face. At least, I thought it was from the fire.

I hadn’t realized how heavily the responsibilities of his position weighed on Damian. The need to never waver, never show any cracks, lest his people fall astray. I couldn’t imagine the strength it took to stand up under that, day after day.

The scene with the young dragon shifter in the market the other day came to my mind. How gentle and firm, but also unyielding he’d been with seeing that justice was done. Not in a manner designed for public humiliation. Rather with learning and encouragement of growth.

Damian would be a great father one day.

“You’re doing a good job,” I told him, breaking the silence. My hand found his leg, giving it a squeeze of reassurance.

Our eyes locked once more. The fire crackled and popped beside us. Everything else stood still.

Holy shit. We’re going to kiss, aren’t we?

He swayed a little closer, looking deep into my soul while giving me a brief, unguarded glimpse into the part of him he kept shut off from everyone else. Everyone but me.

My heart pounded in my chest. It was going to happen. He was going to kiss me.

Damian came closer. My head tilted back, giving him unspoken permission.

From the other side of the fire, a deep, threatening growl announced we were no longer alone.