Page 30

Chapter 6

Augustine

I t was like a nightmare.

When Augustine was a child, his mother had told him sweet stories of the moment she’d found his father, all soft and human and utterly perfect. It had been both the best and worst moment of her life, she’d always said.

Knowing that her mate was human, but in the end, more importantly, having her mate.

She had flown him away to her mountain lair, given him the gifts of her hoard, and loved him with her whole heart for as long as his frail human body had lasted and beyond. They had made every effort to stay together for as long as they could.

There had been no story of how his father had railed against her or thrown away her courting gifts. No anger or shouting or worst of all, terror, as Declan had displayed for a moment in the bedroom.

Had he thought August was so monstrous and crass as to force himself upon his own mate?

Admittedly, he had never for a moment considered the idea that his mate would not want him, but if Declan did not, then August was no human. He did not steal what was not his.

What would his mother have thought of this?

Gently, he picked up the robe, searching its length for the damage. It was a tiny thing, a tear right along the edge of one large flower petal. So small. Nothing.

And somehow, everything.

One of the beautiful things his mother had saved just for Augustine’s mate, and he spurned it. Carefully, he folded the robe with the ripped spot facing upward, considering the spells he might use to fix it. There was a simple mending spell, but was that enough for something so delicate? It was fine for his wool socks and cotton shirts and silk suits, but those were all so simple, so machine-perfect, that he’d never worried.

They had all been entirely replaceable if the spell went wrong.

He would have to think on this. He set the aquamarine stone in the chest next to the robe and left it open, so he wouldn’t forget. Not that it was likely, forgetting what had happened. His mate’s utter fury, taken out on the fine velvet robe.

He didn’t understand. What had he done wrong?

In his days among humans, Augustine had been known as quite the dapper gentleman, and never been shouted at or hit in his entire life. Some hundred or so years earlier, he’d had no dearth of mothers trying to convince him that their daughters were lovely and eligible.

Again, though, they had not known him to be a dragon.

Was it as simple as that? Did his mate hate dragons?

He sighed and rested his hands on the soft fabric for a moment, before pushing up and heading down the side hall, straight to his vault. It wasn’t actually a room inside the cliff, but a portal on his bedroom wall that led to a cavern deep, deep underground.

Augustine had spent many years learning the magic to create the portal, because he hadn’t been willing to suffer the same fate as his mother. Certainly, perhaps the peasants would come for him too. Kill him too. But none other than he could pass through the portal into his hoard room. They would never be able to lay their sticky fingers on his treasures.

In fact, the moment he died, the portal would cease to exist. No one would see his treasures again until the distant Rocky Mountains themselves wore away as the Appalachians had done.

The magic lanterns flickered merrily around the room as he stepped through the portal—they were always on. It was perhaps more affectation than anything else, but it was important to him.

He went straight to the raised dais in the corner to the right. To the short sword hung on the wall there, in a place of honor despite its relative simplicity, compared to the other treasures he owned.

But then, he didn’t truly own this object, did he?

He picked it up and reached out to the shiny thing with his mind. “Father?”

“August , ” came the near-immediate response. “You look well. How are you?” He sighed, and that brought a chuckle. “Not so well, then?”

“Are there humans who hate beauty? I know some of them despise dragons, but I’d rather it be something else.” He walked over and slumped into a great gilded chair in one corner, holding the short sword that contained his father’s consciousness against his chest as he went.

His father’s gentle amusement brushed up against his mind. “ Humans are not all the same, August. There are humans who despise—and adore—everything. I know we did a poor job teaching you about them, but where we lived when you were a boy, the humans were dangerous. We didn’t want you around them. ”

“ They never stopped being dangerous, any time or place. You know they’ve nearly killed us all. ” He sighed. His mate wasn’t a human, or at least not entirely human, but he spoke and acted like one, from Augustine’s view. His clothes, the ones he had left on the beach, had been the kind modern humans wore most often.

“ August? I feel as though perhaps this conversation isn’t truly about how dangerous humans are. ”

Trust his father to get right to the heart of the problem.

“ No ,” he agreed. “ I—I found my mate tonight. ”

They were both silent a moment after that. August didn’t want to admit how badly it had gone, or say that his mate had torn one of Mother’s gifts. It had probably been an accident, really. At least, he’d only meant to disrespect Augustine, not his mother as well. Or not as much.

Finally, his father spoke again. “ August. You know I love you. And I loved your mother with my whole heart. I loved her so much that when we knew I was leaving her, we agreed to put a piece of my soul in this hunk of metal so I could stay with her. I was raised to believe such a thing was an abomination, but for your mother, for you, it was worth it a thousand times over. ”

Augustine suspected, given his father’s hesitant tone, that he wasn’t going to like where this conversation was going. Still, his father was always honest with him, and he appreciated that. Sometimes it meant hearing things that were hard to hear. He kept quiet.

“ The problem is that sometimes, dragons act more quickly than humans can follow. I met your mother, and an hour later, I was locked up in her lair. I—August, dear, at first, I thought she meant to eat me. You lot are so smart, so fast, so magical, and we humans... we just aren’t. She knew I was her mate, so she took me home. It never even occurred to her to stop and explain to me what that meant to her. Or even explain that it was . She simply knew, and acted on her knowledge. Sometimes you need to explain. Or even more. Sometimes, you need to— what is it humans do to court now? Eat food together in public houses? ”

“ Restaurants, ” Augustine corrected, mind working fast. He couldn’t take Declan to a restaurant. Not least because he suspected there would be more shouting and such, but because, well... Augustine didn’t spend time among humans anymore. Oh, he went to a book and magic shop on the edge of the human town. He had food delivered to a house he owned in the woods and sometimes saw the delivery person in passing. But deliberately spending time around humans?

He hadn’t really done that in hundreds of years. Not since they’d murdered his mother.

He couldn’t take Declan out to dinner, but he’d been doing everything on his own for centuries, and even if he’d taught himself out of books, Augustine was a damn fine cook. He had a whole kitchen in the lair, outfitted with magical appliances so that he didn’t need electricity, and he’d managed to recreate everything interesting he’d found in recipe books and seen on TV. He was partial to lemon pepper salmon, himself.

Like his mother, he supposed—always fish.

Absently, he nodded to himself. “ Dinner ,” he agreed with his father. “ I’ll cook him dinner. Maybe he’ll like that .”

“ Just remember, it might take some time. We humans are slow. We have to think about things. We don’t just know them the way you do. Give him time. And respect. If he’s your mate, he’ll figure it out .”

“ Thank you, Father. ”

“ Always, sweet boy. Don’t forget to bring him around to meet me when you get things settled between you. ”