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Chapter 15

Declan

D eclan would never in his life admit to Elrith or anyone else that he’d gotten into a fight and fainted. That was going to be stricken from the record, and the second that his tongue wasn’t too thick and clumsy to demand it, he’d have Augustine swearing his silence.

Never before had Declan had the chance to think of anyone as his own. He’d had friends, sure, back before he hit puberty and sprouted a tail. But even as a kid, growing up with naturally teal hair in the early twentieth century had made him stand out from humans.

Then he had his siblings, but he felt responsible for them, like he had to be the father Elrith didn’t care to be. Point was, he’d never had a person, an equal, to stand beside.

And when Augustine had snatched him out of the water, he definitely hadn’t thought the dragon might fit that spot in his heart. But then Augustine was there with a cool, wet rag, tenderly pressing it to his forehead. He made the tea that Poppy Silverstone had brought.

Augustine was too clever by half to take an incubus to a human hospital, or to drag a normal doctor here. But he’d brought Poppy, a witch and one of the fae. The teas she prescribed were bitter, but they cleared his head, balanced his magic, and he started to feel better.

When she’d come, she’d grinned at him. “So, you’re Sasha’s recluse. I wondered when we might meet.”

“You know my sister?” He’d tried to sit up then, but Augustine held him down with a gentle hand.

Poppy had smiled. “I do.”

“And the—you have to warn her.” Poppy started to frown, and Declan squirmed under Augustine’s hand. “Those people, they were following me. Hunting incubi.”

Poppy’s face cleared. “Right. I’ll give her a heads up.”

She wasn’t scared enough. Didn’t believe them. Elrith had made enemies over the years, but there were plenty of rituals an enterprising magician could use an incubus for. They channeled demonic power. But his siblings—they were one small step from human. They weren’t prepared.

Declan flinched. “I need them safe. August?—”

“They will be,” Poppy assured him with a soft, gentle whisper. She tipped another teacup to his lips. “They’ll be safe. All you need to worry about right now is resting.”

Whatever she gave him knocked him out, but he didn’t even mind after that, what with Augustine sitting there with his firm thigh under Declan’s head, his fingers combing gently through his hair.

He woke up later, and after he’d eaten something—something home cooked , and not the Grubhub fare he’d gotten used to all those years alone—Augustine introduced him properly to his father, William. Yeah, William the sword.

Declan had pressed his palms to his closed eyelids and groaned. “I killed a man with my mate’s dad,” he whined.

Augustine had been concerned, but William had just laughed it off and assured him. “ It was the highlight of my afterlife, dear boy. Don’t think about it for another second .”

There was one thing that Declan knew about his father for sure—he would have seduced those men before he went around swinging a sword like he knew what the hell he was doing with it. To be fair, Elrith’s plan was more likely to succeed, but Declan was still glad he’d gone for the sword.

They didn’t talk about Augustine’s mother or how she’d been killed. For Declan, at least, the idea of humans slaughtering a dragon was still too near. But it wasn’t just that. He’d scorned the gifts from her before, insulted her and Augustine both. Now that he knew better, he sneaked glances at the chest of things she’d made, his heart pattering nervously beneath his ribs. He’d torn one of them.

So even with the newfound understanding between them, Declan didn’t think he was ready for that kind of show of faith from August again. He certainly didn’t deserve it, no matter how he longed to look through the chest of things meant just for him. Surprisingly, Elrith had not been big on meaningful presents, as keen as he was to throw his money around.

Maybe one day, he would earn the right to claim those gifts.

The nice thing about living over the ocean was that the cleanup after the fight was quick. While Declan slept, Augustine had tossed the charred bones of their attackers over the cliffside, and Declan tried very hard to forget their faces and the weight of their fists.

But Augustine’s nice chair had been ruined. Some of the metal pieces around it had melted into golden puddles in the heat of his flame.

He didn’t complain. Declan wasn’t even sure he cared. It seemed, strangely enough, that the dragon was simply happy he had survived, and when weighed against things, no matter how he treasured them, Declan came out on top.

Declan had been staying out in the main room. He didn’t want to go back to that space where Augustine had locked him up, not because he worried he’d do it again, but he simply didn’t want to be alone. He’d been afraid, and Augustine had done the impossible and saved him. Sue him if he wanted to be around his impossibly mighty dragon while he recovered.

Late the night after the attackers had come, Declan pulled off one of the blankets from the couch. It still smelled like smoke, but he didn’t mind. Fire didn’t burn Declan anymore.

He wrapped it around himself and shuffled his feet over to Augustine. The dragon stood at the mouth of the cavern, looking out over the sea. Declan came up behind him, and August didn’t even flinch when Declan wrapped his arms around his waist. He pressed his nose against the firm back of August’s arm and peeked out at the ocean below.

“What are you doing out here?” His voice was muffled by August’s arm. It shifted, but only to allow Augustine to run his hands down Declan’s arms around his middle.

“Thinking about fishing. Bringing something home for you.”

Declan could hear the smile in Augustine’s voice, but he tightened his arms around his stomach and shook his head. “Don’t go. I don’t want you to.”

Augustine’s fingers slipped between Declan’s, their hands all tangled up in the blanket. “Then I’ll stay.”

August’s breath tickled his scalp when he turned, and for a while, they stayed like that, Declan locked around August, clinging to the idea of him, the hope that they might actually be something. August with his nose buried in Declan’s hair.

“Why did you come back?” August asked quietly, just as the moonlight glittering off the water below had Declan zoning out.

Declan sighed, nuzzling his nose into the curve of his dragon’s bicep. “My little brother found a mate. Or, well, he... he settled down. Picked one person. I figure if a kid like Jas can give it a go, well?—”

“You won’t be one-upped by your little brother?” Augustine was teasing, but there was a brittle worry beneath that.

Declan shook his head. “That’s not it. I just... I left. Or you left me. And I missed you. Kept thinking about you, so I came out to the shore. I thought maybe if I called, you’d come. If the whole mate thing were real, you’d, I dunno, hear me or something. You didn’t hear though, and I felt this cold, awful fear, like I’d never see you again. I’d fucked up my one shot. But then I saw those lights. So I followed and you were in trouble and?—”

“You could have left.”

Too fast, Declan shook his head. That swimmy, concussed feeling came back, but when he thought the world might sway beneath him, Augustine stood firm. All Declan had to do was hold onto him. “Wouldn’t ever do that.”

Augustine turned in his arms. Declan loosened his grip just enough to allow him to do it.

“Wouldn’t ever leave?” Augustine asked, a small smile tilting up his lips.

“Well . . . not right now, anyway. Don’t wanna.”

Augustine’s warm lips pressed against his forehead like velvet petals. Closing his eyes, Declan tipped forward and let the dragon hold his weight.

“See, that’s why I think I should go fishing. Keep you happy. Work on that forever.”

Declan grinned and tilted his head up. “And that’s why I want you to stay.”