Page 8

Chapter Eight

C ullen headed to the basement, leaving Orion and Hawk playing video games. Cosmo was making a baby blanket, and Corbin was napping with Elliot.

He felt like he needed to look at his hoard. He had all sorts of…stuff that had to do with magic and illusion. Cards. Magic wands. Silly magician hats. Tarot cards and talking boards. Illusion boxes.

He loved every piece.

Cullen hummed, stroking an old scarf that had been a magician’s prop in the early twentieth century. Silk held up so well as long as it didn’t shatter thanks to chemicals or moth eating.

He wandered through the stacks of things and the little glass cases, but then he stopped, blinking.

A glorious unicorn automaton from maybe the Georgian era sat in a glass case directly in front of him. Oh. Oh, that was so beautiful it brought tears to his eyes.

Orion! Is this yours? He let Orion see it through his eyes.

Ah, Geordie. How nice to see him. Where are you?

In the basement with my hoard. It’s very climate-controlled. Will he be safe down here?

For the time being, yes. Let me follow you down there?

Here I am. Cullen dropped a mental pin, wondering if Orion would be able to follow it.

Sure enough, maybe five minutes later, Orion wandered down to him, studying Cullen’s hoard as he went. “This is amazing, Cullen.”

“Thank you. The automaton is… It’s art, love.”

“I told you, I wasn’t much for ceramic unicorns from the Goodwill.”

“True.” He chuckled, leaning on Orion when his mate put an arm around him. “I love it. Shall we see what else is here with us from your stuff?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Orion kissed his neck, which made his nipples tighten and his cock rise a little. Nothing urgent, just a deep, pleasurable ripple.

“What else should I look for?”

“Oh, I have tapestries galore—for some reason, unicorns seem to inspire needlework and fiber artists of all kinds. It’s actually quite flattering.”

Cullen chuckled, but he could see it. There was something about unicorns that screamed immortalize me in silk.

“I also have some amazing jewels, some coins from Scotland. Some bestiaries with fascinating illustrations. I have quite a few odds and ends. I’ve been collecting for quite a while.” Orion nuzzled him again, breath huffing on his neck. “I mean, I’m not a dragon… I don’t do a hoard, but I can see that Basil’s been working hard at moving me in here.”

“Where were you before?”

“I have a place in New Mexico—it’s not much, just a place on the border. I had been on the West Coast for quite a while, but it was getting very busy. I dislike crowds.”

Cullen could see that. He did too, as a rule. “Did you ever go to one of the big cities, like LA?”

“I did.”

“Did you happen to go see any magic shows?”

He did love a magic show. He respected the hell out of those performers, to be honest.

They didn’t have real magic to help.

“I did. Vegas is especially good for them. I love how humans search for magic in the humblest of ways.” Orion gave him a gentle grin.

“Me too! That’s why I have this hoard. I love illusions…”

“Well, you’re particularly good at them. I love the old man. The butterflies were nice, too.”

Cullen chuckled. “You did all the wee birds.”

“I did.” Orion nuzzled his temple. “Shall we look for a tapestry? We could hang it in the upstairs hall.”

“Oh, I’d love that.” He had a ton of rooms—a dozen little rooms over three floors, all with a different theme. Suns, moons, bears, games—whatever amused him at the time. His room was in the tower, and it faced the Land of Summer, the sunlight keeping it warm and cozy, no matter the season in Lunastra or on earth. “I can clean out a room for Basil, you know. I want him to be comfortable.”

“Oh, Basil is going to want to be down in the basement. He loves to snuggle and create his own space.”

“So long as he knows he’s got a home here.”

Orion squeezed him. “You’re amazing, lover. So kind to me.”

Why wouldn’t he be?

Hell, he was the one who had insisted that Orion come to stay. He had known from the second he’d met Orion, he needed to protect his unicorn from the human world.

They didn’t understand real magic. They’d want to hurt Orion, study him.

He found himself just standing there, resting against Orion, letting time pass in his arms. It was odd for him, to not feel the urge to run about and be wild, to be relaxed and quiet in his soul.

Finally, he took a deep breath. “Let’s find our tapestry. I think the hallway on the second floor is screaming for a unicorn.”

“Screaming?”

“Whining?” He chuckled softly.

“How about begging?” Orion nibbled his ear. “I like begging.”

“You’re awful. Terrible. I may have to beat you.” He laughed, though, and turned, pushing into Orion’s arms and lifting his face for a kiss. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yes. Yes, sweet dragon. I’m glad I’m here as well.” Orion nibbled at his bottom lip, teasing him. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Nowhere.”

“Promise?” Was he being needy? Maybe he was, but this whole mating thing was new. He thought about how hard it had been for Cosmo and Hawk to get in sync, but then Hawk’s house had come with him, and that had all been an explosion of change…

“Ah-ha!” Orion tugged him over to a side wall, where a tapestry was draped over what looked like a hunt board. Like something old and gorgeous. The hunt board. The tapestry was encased in layers of unbleached muslin.

“Can we bring this upstairs too?” He went to explore the hunt board—the wood was warm and well-oiled, with a row of drawers and heavy iron drawer pulls. He opened the drawers, finding twine, a little knife, buttons, linens. “Is it yours? Why is it down here?”

“I think that Basil is worried to come abovestairs, love.”

“Well, that’s awful.” He looked around. “Basil? Basil, if you can hear me, this is Cullen, and you are more than welcome here, and you can put furniture upstairs. If we need it moved, we’ll move it!”

Orion chuckled softly. “You are a good dragon, you know that?”

“Only half of me,” he teased. “The other half is wicked fae.”

Not that fae were particularly wicked. They simply had different priorities.

Beauty. Art. Sunshine. Music. Dance. Making love.

Things like work were overrated, no question.

“So…that’s what is outside the kitchen door, is it?”

Cullen nodded. “That’s where my mother and father live. You can even see their chimney from the window. We can see Mother’s gardens from the bedroom.”

Orion tilted his head, blinked. “Oh? What does she grow?”

“Flowers. Thousands and thousands of flowers.” He winked at Orion. “That’s why she fights with Corbin so. You know how he only grows vegetables and fruits. Grains.”

“I saw the roses, though. They’re breathtaking.”

Cullen nodded. “Stunning. I like the purple ones the best.”

In a totally non-weird, completely unexceptional sort of way, of course.

“I’m shocked.”

“I thought you would be.”

Orion chuckled, then went to lift the muslin-wrapped tapestry. “Come on, love. Let’s take this upstairs and hang it up, hmm?”

“That sounds wonderful, actually. What do we need to hang it?”

“I have no idea. It’s been years, maybe decades, since it was strung up.”

“Strung up has such old-west connotations,” Cullen teased. “You sound like Poe, or Zeke.”

Orion frowned. “And who are they?”

“Friends. You’ll like them, although you’ll not get too much of a chance to meet them, I guess.” Cullen chewed his lip. “They can’t come in the house, and I don’t know if you can go to Lunastra… Maybe we need a bubble.”

“A what?” Orion stared at him, tapestry in his arms.

“You know, a bubble attached to the house. A catio. If it’s attached, surely you could go sit and the dragons can come talk to you through the glass.”

“You are a nutball, baby,” Orion told him.

“I think about these things.” His cheeks heated. He knew that turned him from lavender or violet to royal purple, but there it was.

“I’m glad. It made me laugh.” They trooped up the stairs, all the way to the second-floor landing, where there was a nice clear floor to unroll the tapestry.

Cullen gasped when he saw it, because it was so amazingly beautiful. It was along the lines of the unicorn in captivity, and he was grateful it wasn’t the hunting kind, with men on horses spearing a unicorn. He’d seen that in a book his mother had when he was a child, and he’d cried for two days.

“This looks almost new.”

“I know. I’m told it was woven by a pair of sisters who used spiderwebs as threads.” Orion shrugged. “They wove magic into it to keep it from weakening, and they infused it with a couple of phoenix feathers…”

His mouth dropped open. “What the?—”

“I’m not teasing. But who knows what the actual method was. What I can tell you is that I’ve owned it since the French Revolution.”

“Wow. I mean. Wow.” He blinked hard. “That’s so cool.”

“Right? I think a tapestry clamp. Does anyone woodwork?”

“Hawk can, but there’s also a master woodworker in the village. The dragon one.”

“Can you order a tapestry clamp?”

“Sure, just show me what it looks like.”

“Here.” He pulled out his phone, bringing up a picture.

“Okay, cool. Yeah. Next time one of us goes down this week, I’ll commission it.”

“Thank you, love.” Orion rolled it back up in the muslin and put it in, yes, the guest room. Cool.

“You’re welcome. I want this to be your house too.”

“Mmm. I like the sound of that.” Pulling him close, Orion kissed him nice and long and deep.

His body reacted immediately, and he moaned, his whole self lighting up. He wrapped his arms around Orion’s neck, grinning up at his mate as they rubbed together. “The bedroom is right there.”

“So it is. You’re hot as a two-dollar pistol today, my love.”

“I am.” He climbed Orion’s body. “I want you.”

“I want you too.” Orion carried him to the bedroom and proceeded to show him how much.

So much better than an automaton.