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Eighteen

DRAVEN

“ D o we have to worry about food poisoning?” Edgar pointed his tail toward the mini meat pie Elm was biting into, which was almost bigger than the dragon. “I heard that if food is left out at a certain temperature, bacteria multiplies.”

“Don’t dragons eat raw meat?” Georgie asked as Edgar flew next to us while we walked through the market.

“That’s a fair point.”

I bit into my own meat pie, the savory flavor of beef, onion, and flaky pie crust mingling together.

Georgie’s eyes widened at a stand far in the distance with a mannequin wearing a sparkling pink dress that was form-fitting and long-sleeved with a high neckline.

“Can we go there?” Georgie pointed to the dress, sunlight glinting off the fabric.

“I can’t,” I said. “I need to get back to the tavern.”

Her face fell. “Right.”

I put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure Edgar can take you. Or Elm. ”

“Oh yes.” Elm finished his last bite and wiped his hands together. “I’ve got an excellent eye for fashion.”

My friend was feeling better today and got an earful from me about missing the game night.

“Or Edgar can go?” I suggested as Georgie made a face.

“Do I have to try a dress on?” Edgar asked with his wide orange eyes. “Because I don’t think they make those for dragons.”

“Just forget it,” Georgie mumbled, wandering over to a candle stand. Candles of all sizes stood on the edge, each one with a label saying both the scent and its magical properties.

“You know, I think she wants to spend time with you.” Elm nodded toward my sister, who was bending down to smell a candle.

“She hates me,” I said. “And I don’t blame her. I don’t know what to do to make her happy. I thought Edgar would cheer her up, but she seems ambivalent to him.”

“Hey!” Edgar said. “I can hear, you know.”

Elm clapped a hand on my shoulder. “She doesn’t hate you. I just think she doesn’t know how to relate to you.”

“And I definitely don’t know how to relate to her.”

A chilly breeze blew past us, fluttering tablecloths and awnings hanging over some of the stands.

“Maybe she just needs a woman’s touch.” I looked down to see Morty Hallow standing next to me, her gray corkscrew hair falling in perfect spirals and brushing her shoulders, her deep umber skin smooth and wrinkle-free despite her age of seventy years.

The older witch had just retired from running her tea shop, which she’d passed on to her niece.

I cocked a brow. “It’s not nice to eavesdrop, Morty.”

She fluttered a hand in the air. “You were talking so loudly. It wasn’t exactly difficult.”

Elm grinned. “Hi Morty.”

She pointed a long purple nail at him. “I’m still upset you never visited my tea shop for one of my matchmaking events.”

“Well, I wasn’t ready to be matched,” Elm said simply.

Women might have used Elm frequently, but he never seemed to care–or notice. He’d give money, sex, favors, whatever they wanted from him, and when they were done with him, he showed no emotion. It was the oddest thing, and I’d never been able to understand it.

“And you are now?” Morty asked with far too much interest.

Elm looked away.

Right. I’d ruined that. Elm had asked Adelaide out on an official date yesterday, and she’d turned him down. He suspected it was because of my contemptuous relationship with her sister. I hadn’t meant to get into another argument with Elspeth, to ruin her family game night. It seemed every interaction of ours would end in disaster.

“Not quite,” Elm said.

Morty turned her dark green eyes on me. “And what about you?”

I scoffed. “You’re not matchmaking me, Morty. Besides, you’re retired from all that.”

Morty’s tea shop, Steeped in Love, was famous for making tea—and love matches. She’d regularly hosted matchmaking events when she owned the shop. She might’ve been retired from the shop, but I had a feeling she still couldn’t help but meddle in relationships.

I was sorry to disappoint her, but I had no interest in love. I didn’t have time for it. Not with a sister to care for, a tavern to run, and spells to perfect.

“Too bad,” Morty said. “I heard five new witches came to town a week ago.”

I choked, and Elm burst out laughing. “Now that’s an idea.”

“Oh, that wouldn’t be good,” Edgar said. “Draven got into a horrible argument with one of the witches at his tavern.”

I shot him a look, but the dragon went on.

“Terrible business. I had to hide under the countertop. I was afraid they might get out their wands and start a duel.”

I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It ended with you tackling her,” Elm said. “Then you tackled her again yesterday in the brook, and from what I’ve heard, again at their cottage last night.”

I thought of my body pressed to Elspeth’s, and my cock twitched. Witch’s tits, that was disturbing. But for whatever reason, ever since last night, I couldn’t get Elspeth out of my mind. The feel of her lithe body under my large one. How she’d moved under me and made me think of all the ways she might move if we’d been doing other things .

It hadn’t helped that she’d been soaking wet in the stream yesterday morning, her entire dress plastered to her body, her nipples peaked. Some feral part of me had awoken, and I’d wanted to grab her and kiss her senseless. Kiss her so hard she’d stop arguing with me.

I swallowed, pushing those thoughts away. I was clearly overtired and overworked. I might not have needed a relationship, but I needed a release from all this tension. To bed a woman and get it out of my system. Get her out of my system.

“Oh, I heard,” Morty said. “It sounds like you’ve met your match, Draven Darkstone.”

I glowered at her. Elspeth wasn’t my match. She was a pain in the ass.

Georgie ran over, holding up a pair of jeweled high heels, the fabric on them a pale pink, sparkling gems lining the heels in a vertical pattern. “I love them.” She squeezed them to her chest.

“Georgie,” I said. “When would you even have an occasion to wear something like that?”

“Maybe I don’t need an occasion. Maybe I can just wear them whenever I want.” She stuck out her bottom lip. “It’s not like you’d ever take me anywhere where I could wear them. I just want something pretty.”

“I like them!” Edgar piped up, his lips peeling back to reveal his sharp teeth. “They’d go wonderfully with that pink dress you had your eye on.”

I cut him a look, and he dove behind Elm, peeking his head over my friend’s shoulder. Georgie didn’t need more things. Spending money wouldn’t fix the problems that lay between us, the problems with her confidence, her outbursts.

“That dress?” Morty pointed to it.

“Draven already said no,” Georgie mumbled.

“It’s pretty,” Morty said. “Fit for a ball.”

“Well, unfortunately, we don’t attend many of those.” I gave Morty a curt nod. “Now, if you’ll excuse us?—”

Morty tapped her chin with her long nails. “Up until your parents died, the Darkstone Manor was decked out every year for a ball to celebrate Marhloth.”

The holiday that marked when the very first Witch Superior won the wars against the vampires and werewolves, kicking them out of our realm and establishing the official Witchlands.

“Your grandmother even made an occasional appearance and kicked up her feet.”

I snorted, unable to imagine my grandmother doing anything as joyous as dancing.

“I don’t dance,” I said.

I knew about these balls, but I’d never attended, always too busy with work.

Georgie’s eyes brightened. “A dance?”

I rubbed my temples. “We really need to be going?—”

“Can we throw a ball? I miss them.” Georgie pressed her hands together. “And maybe we could invite Grandmother to come?”

This was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid. I turned my hard stare on Morty, and to her credit, she didn’t flinch. “I don’t have the time to throw some silly ball.”

Morty tapped her chin. “Well, I’m sure you don’t have to do it all alone.”

“I’d love to go to a ball,” Elm said, his gaze on something in the distance. “You know, that’s exactly what Thistlegrove needs right now.”

“I can help plan!” Georgie said, her eyes pleading.

“So can I!” Edgar’s wings flapped faster. “I have excellent organizational skills.”

“I can help too,” Morty said. “I have a lot more time on my hands now that I’m retired. Plus that big empty manor could use a little life. With you staying in that small apartment over your tavern, the manor barely gets used.”

This was turning into a headache, but Georgie looked so hopeful at the idea. It was the most excited I’d seen her in a long time.

“Fine,” I relented. “We can throw the damn ball.”

Georgie squealed and threw her arms around my neck. I stiffened, then relaxed into the hug, squeezing her tight.

“Now let’s go look at that dress you have your eye on.” Morty offered her arm, and before I could protest, Georgie looped hers through it and they were off.

“Fuck me,” I said as Elm came up next to me.

“I thought she was lovely,” Edgar said. “Less grumpy than some people I know.” His eyes flitted to me, and he gave a nervous laugh.

We followed behind Morty and Georgie toward the dress stand.

“Elm! Draven!” a voice called. One that instantly grated on my nerves.

I turned to see Elspeth Moonflower waving at me. Adelaide and Thea Moonflower stood beside her behind a small table with bowls and spoons sitting on top of it. Steam curled into the air over a bubbling cauldron. I sniffed, a delicious, earthy scent wafting toward me.

Elspeth waved, a strained smile plastered on her face while Thea ladled soup into bowls for waiting customers, serving them with a side of thick crusty bread.

“Adelaide,” Elm said, striding forward before I could stop him.

My jaw locked as I followed.

“Hi,” Elspeth said from behind the table. I looked behind me, wondering who she was talking to, but there was no one there. I whirled around. She stared at me expectantly. “It’s nice to see you,” she said quickly.

“It is?” I asked slowly. “Even after I beat you at moon ball last night?”

“Do I need to hide?” Edgar asked.

Elspeth’s gaze swiveled to the dragon. “And who is this?”

“This is Edgar,” I said. “Our pet dragon.”

“I prefer ‘companion,’” Edgar said, stretching out his tail for Elspeth to shake. She gave him a genuine smile that lit up her entire face.

Her mahogany eyes brightened, and she looked instantly younger, so carefree in this moment.

She swiped her bangs from her forehead. “Can I help you?” she asked, that strained smile once again taking over.

“What?” I snapped.

“You’re staring.”

I looked away, hands curling into fists. Adelaide and Elm were off to the side of the stand, speaking in hushed tones. Elspeth shot them a look, then sidled around the table and right in front of me.

She raised her chin and took a measured breath, her bosom rising and falling. “I want to apologize for how I behaved at the cottage yesterday. ”

“Just at the cottage?” I raised a brow.

She clenched her jaw. “And at your tavern.”

“Okay, then,” I said.

“Okay?” she echoed, her eyes flashing in a way that I found intoxicating. I wanted to make them flash like that again. “Do you have anything to say to me?” She crossed her arms.

“Oh, here we go.” Edgar dove behind me, plastering his body to my back, his tail wrapping around my waist.

“I don’t think I’m the one who has anything to apologize for.” I was being an ass. I knew it. I had plenty to apologize for, but for whatever reason, I liked getting under this woman’s skin, liked seeing her fire.

She narrowed her gaze. “Then you can take my apology and stick it straight up your?—”

“What’s going on here?” Adelaide and Elm appeared at our sides.

Elspeth jumped, lunging forward and grabbing my hands. “I was just apologizing to Draven.”

Adelaide’s gaze shifted between the two of us.

Elspeth’s hands were so small in my large ones, her pale skin soft and warm.

“Really?” Adelaide raised a skeptical brow.

“Yes,” Elspeth said, her voice coming out high and squeaky.

What was she up to? Whatever it was, I didn’t trust it.

“That’s odd.” I removed my hands from Elspeth’s and stroked my stubbled jaw. “Because I thought that you were about to tell me you wanted to take your apology and stick it straight up my?—”

“Look at this dress, Draven!” Georgie danced by us, holding up the sparkly pink dress she’d been eyeing. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” She swayed with it pressed against her.

“It is lovely.” Morty walked up behind her. “It’ll look beautiful at the ball.”

This entire ordeal was her fault. If she hadn’t intervened, hadn’t mentioned a stupid ball, hadn’t offered to take Georgie to see the dress, I wouldn’t be standing here, forced into this conversation with Elspeth.

Morty and Georgie went back to the dress stand, and I heard Morty bartering with the seamstress.

“Ball?” Adelaide asked. “What ball?”

“You must come,” Elm said. “Your whole family is invited.” He gestured to Elspeth and her mother, who was still busy serving customers.

Witch’s tits. Today had gone from bad to worse.

“I don’t know...” Adelaide twisted her hands together.

“Yes!” Elspeth burst out. “We’d love to.”

“Great.” Elm clapped his hands together.

“Great,” Elspeth said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Fucking great.