Page 27 of Driven by Dragonblood (Blood Born #3)

“Not directly, no.” A frown flitted over her brow. “But my beast whispered about the history of the souls in the stars, of ancient beings, my ancestors—and yours—watching us from the night sky.”

She shared too familiar a story to discount, unfortunately.

I muttered a curse beneath my breath while slumping back in my chair. “So, how were you supposed to help me?”

“By simply sharing truth.”

“The truth of what you believe you heard,” I asked for clarity.

“What I did hear.”

I glanced around my office, my brain even more of a scattered mess than before Emelia had arrived for our scheduled session. “Why come to Lockwood? Why not approach me on the street?” I suggested, thinking I might be able to make her stumble in this story she wove in order to trip me up.

“Because I, too, am meant to be here.” She laid her hand over her flat chest. “My mates would not locate me otherwise. ”

“But you’re only what? Thirteen?” I asked, my voice low, brow furrowed, remembering I hadn’t read her file.

“Sixteen, going on seventeen.” She shrugged and smiled again. “I’m a ward of the state, considered mentally inadequate, so this is where I’ll stay until it’s time for my alpha to whisk me away.”

The clock on the wall ticked as I processed—or tried to, rather—what she’d said, every damn word aligning not just with David and his granddaughter’s blog but also with what Primrose had told Jaxon, my supposed beta.

Changing the subject wasn’t ideal, considering I now had more questions about myself than before, but I had a job to do at Lockwood, and Emelia was a patient entrusted to my care.

Long after she left my office, I sat and stared unseeing at the beige wall of the stifling office, wondering what the fuck I should do, what I should believe, even though the evidence stacked toward the insanity of dragonblood and shifters.

An idea flitted through my head, and I grabbed my cell, pulling up a number I hadn’t called since we’d gone our separate ways not long after college.

Steven Hasslet had always been a nerd who loved sci-fi and the possibility of supernatural shit. We’d studied countless hours together while working toward our bachelor’s. We’d also shared a handful of women but had kept our hands off each other by unspoken agreement.

“Patty?” Hasslet’s voice betrayed a wide grin. “That you?”

I found my lips responding. “How are you, Steven?”

“Well, and yourself?”

“Not so well—which is why I called.”

He chuckled. “The emotionally untouchable Patrick Macaire needs a sex therapist?”

I settled in my chair and closed my eyes, his teasing sliding off my back like it always did. “Not exactly, but I have a case that is eating away at me, and I would really love your opinion since your brain has always been a little out in…well, left field.”

“Whatcha got?” He got down to business, unbothered by my statement as I’d been with his.

His pursuing his doctorate in New York while I’d stayed in Boston for mine had separated us from getting together and eventually as close confidants, but one truth about real friendships—they stood the test of time.

I exhaled a long breath before telling him about Jaxon—without naming him—and how the voice in his head made him believe he could fly.

“I’ve seen a handful of similar cases that don’t fit into the science we both studied,” he said once I finished my brief recap of what had been in Jaxon’s file opened atop my desk.

“Did any of them ever mention dragons—or dream of dragons? Alphas, betas, and females? Fated mates?”

He hesitated long enough that I checked my cell to make sure Steven and I hadn’t been disconnected.

“You were never one to beat around the bush, Patty.”

I heaved another heavy breath and frowned at the half-lie about to leave my mouth.

“There are two men, actually, who have dreamed of dragons and flying. I’ve done research.

” I went on to fill him in on the bit about the stories the Natives in the area passed down from generation to generation, even tossing in the word “dragonblood” in hopes Steven might know something about the mess I found myself in.

“Well?” I pushed when he went silent yet again.

“I think it’s arrogant of man to believe we’re the only beings in this universe,” he said slowly as though choosing his words carefully. “I studied the same textbooks you did, though. What does your gut tell you?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing I had to admit to questioning my sanity out loud—but I trusted this man’s ability to remain professional. “I’m not sure.”

“Are these two men hospitalized?”

“No.”

“Should they be?”

I still managed to contain my weakness for the most part, but I considered Jaxon, the wildness that had gotten him into trouble, and the mischievous glint in his eyes. I also imagined taking my belt to his backside to teach him a thing or two about not making stupid choices.

Clearing my throat, I shifted on my office chair, and it squeaked beneath me. “I think they’ve both accepted reality.”

A snort drifted through the walls imprisoning the beast inside me, and I frowned, pulling oxygen deeply into my lungs.

“Are you happy, Patty?” Steven asked as though seeming to know I needed a topic change.

“I’m not sure how to answer that, to be honest.”

“Have you found that fulfillment you’ve been driven to snag for yourself since the day I met you?”

“No.” At least, that answer was easy to answer with honesty.

“In a relationship?”

I stared unseeing across the office, all too happy I had rid myself of Jessie even though I’d always longed for companionship and acceptance of what I hated about myself. “No.”

“Still sharing lovers?”

“Fuck,” I muttered and closed my eyes against the sudden images flashing in my head of Jaxon and Primrose that filled my dreams every goddamned night.

“You know…” Steven paused, and I imagined him tapping his chin like he’d done while deep in thought when we were younger. “I might have a lead for you.”

I waited, breath held .

“A close friend of mine owns a sex club downtown, and I’ve referred countless patients to him.”

“He’s a dominant?”

“Yes—Giovanni DiLoreto. He disappeared toward the end of last year, and I finally just heard from him a few days ago. He moved to Wyoming to live with what he called his beta and female. I always knew he was a kinky fucker, but he spoke about them like he was bonded to them or some such shit. He didn’t use the words ‘fated mates,’ but that’s the gist I got from the brief conversation. ”

I stilled, unmoving except for the beating of my heart. Beta and female—bonding.

Yessss, truth.

I swallowed, slamming every ounce of self-control I had into solidifying the vault containing that damn voice.

Emelia had said there were other dragonbloods. Perhaps this DiLoreto guy and his two partners would have the scientific answers my brain required to make sense of what owned my thoughts.

“Do you happen to have his number?” I asked, my voice ragged.

“I do.” Muffled noises sounded. “I’ll forward Vanni’s contact card to you,” he said, “but he doesn’t have service where he lives off-grid. I’m sure he’ll get back to you if you leave a message, though. Just tell him that I gave you his number.”

I glanced up at the clock to note the time and made my goodbyes.

Steven’s text came through seconds later, but before I had a chance to make a call to his friend, my next patient arrived.