Page 10 of Fated by Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #1)

Chapter 10

C aleb

The rich aroma of coffee hits me before I even push through the glass doors of Grind the little coffee shop is in the lobby of Craven Towers, so most of the patrons are my own employees. I nod in greeting at one or two as I walk into the place.

My gaze finds Dorian instantly—hard to miss him, leaning against the counter in that careless way of his, dark hair artfully tousled. My mirror image, yet so different.

His stance screams casual confidence while I know my own shoulders are tight with tension. Some things never change. And as much as I envy his unburdened demeanor, I know I wouldn’t trade places. Probably because I don’t trust anyone else to take on my role.

Control freak? Maybe. I prefer to think of myself as dedicated to the continued success of my family legacy. And perfectionism is a personality trait I don’t think of as a flaw.

“Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence,” Dorian drawls as I approach. His eyes gleam with mischief. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten our breakfast date.”

“Some of us have actual work to do,” I say, falling into line beside him. The words lack heat—this is an old dance between us.

Dorian’s attention shifts to the barista behind the counter. She’s new—I can tell by the way she fumbles slightly with the espresso machine. Her nametag reads, “Juno.”

“Juno,” Dorian says, testing the name on his tongue. His smile widens. “That’s different. Named after the Roman goddess?”

She looks up, startled but pleased. A light blush colors her cheeks. “Actually, my parents were astronomers. They met at an observatory studying Jupiter’s moons.”

“Fascinating.” Dorian leans in, voice dropping to that intimate tone he uses when he’s hunting. “Tell me more about the stars.”

I watch their interaction with unexpected interest. Not because of Juno—though she’s attractive enough with her bouncing curls, porcelain skin, and bright pink smile. No, what catches my attention is how normal this all feels. Human courtship rituals played out over coffee and shy smiles.

My dragon stirs restlessly. We’re anything but normal. And I can’t see myself ever interacting with a woman in this way.

“Speaking of fascinating,” Dorian says, turning back to me with a taunting grin. “Let’s talk about you and a certain junior archivist.”

The paper cup creaks in my grip. “There’s nothing to discuss.” At least, there’s nothing I’m willing to discuss with him . There’s plenty I need to talk to myself about. Namely, getting my head out of my ass because I don’t have time for this rubbish.

“Really? Because that’s not what I walked in on yesterday.” He accepts his drink from Juno with a wink that makes her blush deepen. “That was quite a show you two put on.”

“Bullshit. There was no show.” I look about for a seat.

“Really? Because when I walked in, you literally had your tongue down her throat.”

I can’t deny it, so I don’t. “It was a momentary lapse in judgment,” I mutter. More than a lapse. I don’t know what the hell was going on in my head. I’ve never been so impulsive around a woman. Certainly not one who raises so many questions.

Dorian’s not letting it go. “A momentary lapse that had you practically devouring her with—”

“Enough!” I bark. A couple at a nearby table glances our way.

But it’s too late. The memory of Jessica floods my mind. The soft gasp she made when I kissed her. The way she melted against me, all fire and surrender. The scent of her skin, like summer rain and…

I realize I’ve stopped mid-reach for my own coffee. Dorian’s knowing smirk makes me want to snarl.

“Can we focus on actual business?” I grab my drink, steering us toward a corner table. “Malakai’s been breathing down my neck about the Heartstone.”

Dorian’s playful expression shifts, something darker settling in his eyes. “Yeah, the old man’s been particularly cranky lately. More than usual. And that’s saying something.”

“He claims the stone’s energy is fluctuating.” I settle back against my seat, stretching my legs out. These damn tables were made for midgets.

“Is it?” Dorian stirs his cup, then lifts it for a sip. I catch a waft of caramel and something sweeter.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit.” I scowl at the foamy beverage in his cup.

“Salted caramel and hazelnut.” He lifts it in a toast. “Drink of the gods.”

“Dunno what’s wrong with a simple espresso.”

“Caleb, if the whole world operated like you, we’d still be watching black-and-white TV. Now tell me about the Heartstone. You said the energy’s shifting.”

I realize I’ve steered us away from the topic. My head is all over the place, and that’s not like me. I take a slow sip of coffee, gathering my thoughts. “Maybe. It’s… different when I’m near it now. Like it’s trying to tell me something.”

Our eyes meet across the table. After all this time together, we don’t need words for some things. Dorian’s fingers trace patterns on the cup. Outwardly, he looks calm, but I can sense an underlying tension. My brother may play the role of a lighthearted playboy, but he’s nobody’s fool.

“You think Malakai might be right?” he asks finally.

“About the stone? Possibly.”

“And the rest? The deal with NyxCorp? He seems dead set on pushing it through, but you’re hesitating.”

“I understand where he’s coming from. On paper, it’s a good deal. But why was it so easy?” I swirl the contents of my cup around, the dark liquid sloshing.

“You mean, you should have been razing them to ash?” Dorian says, his tone mocking. He stirs more sugar into his cup.

“Jesus, Dorian. You’re going to get diabetes.” I grimace. He’s about to consume a cup of pure poison.

“Nah. We don’t have to worry about stuff like that, remember?” My brother waves a dismissive hand. He takes a mouthful, then makes a satisfied sound before going on. “Malakai Steele is old guard. He likes to follow the ancient ways. Rule with an iron fist. Vanquish enemies. And in the case of NyxCorp, he sees them as conquered, so he wants to move on to the next conquest.”

I purse my lips and consider this for a moment. “Yes. You’re right. But still…”

“Your instincts are screaming.”

I nod slowly. “Something’s coming. I can feel it in my bones.”

“The last time you said that, we ended up in that mess in Shanghai.”

“This isn’t like Shanghai.” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “The stone’s never reacted like this before. I felt it the moment it came to life. Not like its usual low buzz. This is a pulse, and it sets off every alarm bell I have, yet…” I trail off, unable to put the sensation into words.

The morning crowd has thinned, leaving the cafe quieter. Through the windows, I watch Seattle wake up, its inhabitants unaware of the ancient powers stirring beneath its surface. My coffee has gone cold, but I barely notice.

“Something’s shifting,” I say finally. “I can feel it. The question is, are we heading toward a new dawn or some sort of war?”

“A new dawn? Bit dramatic, bro. I think you’re overthinking it.” Dorian shrugs. “It could simply be that the stone is evolving. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yes, but there’s usually been upheaval when it happened.”

“You’re thinking of Kael and the witch.”

“Lyria Rossewyn wasn’t just a witch, Dorian.”

“No, she was a thief sent to steal the stone. For some reason, people seem to forget that part of the story,” he says.

“Probably because she died to save it. To save our line. And she didn’t willingly try to steal it. She was forced. You know all of this.” I empty my coffee cup and pull a face. I probably need another, considering the way my brain is misfiring.

“Sure I do,” Dorian huffs. “I didn’t ask for a history lesson.”

“Then I don’t need to tell you that the Oath isn’t something we take lightly.”

“Of course I don’t take it lightly. We’re honor-bound to protect Lyria’s line. But we lost contact with her last descendant years ago, Caleb.”

“I know. And that doesn’t sit well with me. We had a duty to them. A duty to honor them. To honor Lyria’s sacrifice.” My tone has grown taut. This is something I take seriously, but it seems that my kind has begun to forget its obligations.

“It’s hard to honor anything when they’re no longer around. And we both know that was deliberate. They hid from us. For all we know, there aren’t any left.”

“Did they hide?” I lean forward. “Or did we simply stop keeping an eye on them?”

“Does it matter?” He shrugs.

“Of course it matters, Dorian!” I can’t believe he’d be so cavalier about this. “Lyria Rossewyn gave her life to make sure that our enemies wouldn’t get their hands on a tool to control us. She didn’t have to do that. She could have saved her brother and herself and vanished.”

“And she didn’t,” he concedes. “I know. But that was fucking four hundred years ago, Caleb. Surely our duty is done?”

“Are you kidding me?” I stare at him. “A dragon’s oath is as immortal as we are. We stand by it. We all do. Fucking forever, dammit! I can’t believe—”

“Okay, okay.” He holds up his hands. “Jesus, Caleb. No need to get into a froth.”

I pull in a breath, settling myself. I don’t usually fly off the handle, but I’m on edge for some reason. A faint pull in my chest has me taking another deep breath. The Heartstone. I know that’s what it is. As its guardian, I’ve always been connected. But this feeling is unfamiliar. It’s like having another pulse.

Dorian is still talking. “…this subject, anyway,” he’s saying. “I’d much rather know why you’ve been toying with that pretty little thing from archiving.”

I scowl at him. “I’m not toying with anything, Dorian.”

“Sure you’re not. The fact that I’ve seen you locking lips with her not once, but twice, is irrelevant.” He smirks. “Seriously, brother, you can’t blame me for being curious. You never spare a glance at the fairer sex. If I hadn’t seen you with the occasional socialite, I would have thought you were… you know. Into boys.”

“For God’s sake, Dorian!” I snap.

“Not that I’m judging.” He waves a hand. “I’m fully on board with any life choices you make. I just want to know that you’re happy.”

I stare at him for a moment. “You’ve been watching too much Dr. Phil ,” I say gruffly.

“And you spend too much time at your desk. That worries me. After Dad—”

“I don’t want to talk about Dad,” I cut him off. “In fact, I don’t want to talk about any of this. The archivist is off the table.” As I say it, I feel another strange pulse. For some reason, I don’t like the idea of her being drawn into any of this. And that’s ridiculous because I barely even know the woman. Not to mention that my interactions with her have hardly been conventional.

She was snooping…

I brush the thought away. Maybe I overreacted. Maybe she really was just lost. And maybe I’m looking for reasons to see her again.

That’s bullshit.

I was just being cautious. But now, what I probably need to do is leave her alone. I have bigger things to worry about.

“I’m done here,” Dorian is saying. He’s patting his top pocket as he’s standing. “I want to get a number from a certain barista…” He glances over his shoulder.

“Sure.” I give a curt nod. “Knock yourself out.”

“Good chat.” He grins. He’s already turning from me.

I watch as he walks toward the counter.

Good chat?

I wish I felt the same way.