Page 8 of The Dragon’s Stone Hearted Mate (Mori’s Mementos #1)

Morvan

Camp Air

Cutter didn’t seem too phased by the statue falling on him. I spent fifteen minutes listening to Sherry try to convince him to see the camp’s doctor and him ardently refusing before I wandered away. Maybe this wasn’t the camp for me.

“You haven’t even seen the whole thing yet,” my dragon reminded me.

“Though, I did get a peek at the statue’s butt.

Not much of one because you moved too quickly but it was a nice butt.

Plus, he had a tail. It was fluffy. Almost reminded me of a cat’s tail.

I bet it tickled when we did him from behind and—”

“What? Are you having fuck-fantasies about a statue?” I asked him, trying to shake the mental imagery out of my mind’s eye.

“I’ve slept with him before. Don’t you—Oh! You don’t remember!” my dragon said, finally sitting up on his sunning boulder.

“Maybe I should see the camp doctor or give Chole a call. If you think you’ve humped a statue before we need some serious help,” I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

“Morvan! Wait up!” Cutter’s voice called from back up by the cabin.

In a split-second choice, I almost acted like I hadn’t heard him.

I wasn’t good for him. He was looking for hope and I just wanted to feel neutral again.

Good enough to go back to the warehouse and pretend that Patrica didn’t kill my brother.

Maybe I needed blood under my talons to feel like myself again.

“Hey!” Cutter sprinted in front of me looking no worse for wear.

“Do you ever take your pack off?” I laughed, trying to act more interested in conversation than I was. My dragon was losing his mind and that made it difficult to be friendly.

“Not really,” he shook his head. “If I have to flee, it’s nice to have it on and ready to go.”

“Do you think a ghost knocked over the statue?” I asked him.

“Ghosts don’t do that. They don’t use blunt force objects when they fight. It just wanted a better look at you,” he said, and I shoved down the urge to grab my bag and leave. Maybe Cutter was onto something about keeping his pack with him at all times.

“Really?” I asked instead.

“Really,” he nodded. “Sometimes statues are people. It can happen in different ways. Just say hi to him and maybe he’ll stop falling over,” Cutter shrugged. “What do you think about this place?”

“I’m not sure. I’m really not sure,” I said and bit my lip.

“Sherry’s bubbly. The cabin’s okay, I guess.

I didn’t get to look around too long before you almost turned into a pancake.

The fire looks okay. A bit small, but okay,” I gestured at the bonfire in the middle of the camp. “Everyone seems sad.”

“We are sad. That’s why we’re here,” Cutter shrugged, stopping at a cooler and bending down to scoop out two water bottles. He smiled and handed one to me. I nodded my thanks as we made another loop around the center of camp.

Yep. Tonight, while everyone was asleep, I’d slip out and go home.

This wasn’t the place for me. I don’t know what I expected, but this wasn’t it.

Every few feet there were a pair of people crying together.

I didn’t want to sit around and cry about how unfair life was.

I wanted to make it be bloody fair but first I had to reground myself in reality.

Maybe Torvan took my sanity to the grave with him.

“Remember, if the ghosts come tonight or in the morning, don’t try to help me,” Cutter said. “I have it under control and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll remember,” I nodded. “What if you’re losing, though, do I help you out then?”

“You run,” Cutter shrugged. “Sometimes that’s all you can do when your past is hunting you down. Do you walk in circles a lot?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I fly around,” I shrugged.

“Can I fly on your back? That’s rude to ask, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” I shrugged. “Maybe later. I don’t feel like this is the best time to let him out.”

“Is your dragon hungry?” Cutter asked but didn’t give me time to answer the question.

“There’s lots of food here. I have some in my pack too.

When my lion gets hungry, he’s not the nicest. I once spent a week in jail because I bit a bear shifter in support group.

I don’t know why he covered himself in coconut oil if he didn’t want me to bite him?

I could’ve tossed him in a frying pan and cooked him he used so much of it. ”

“Uh…. Don’t eat anyone here,” I said because what the hell else could I say?

“I don’t let myself get that hungry anymore,” Cutter shook his head.

“I’m still not sure why they decided to let me out?

The guy walked right into the cell, looked around, and then left the door open when he walked out.

So, I followed him. He didn’t have much to say about it, but he didn’t try to stop me when I left. ”

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sorry, I’m not ready for sex,” he shook his head. “I’ve never been with anyone except my mate and I’m not ready to change that.”

“That wasn’t my question,” I said, almost blushing at his assumption.

“Guess that’s how Chole felt at our last session,” my dragon snickered.

“Oh, sorry. This is gonna sound vain but everyone hits on me. All the alphas anyway,” Cutter blushed.

“If anyone gives you a problem let me know,” I said.

“Thanks, but I can eat their faces myself,” he shrugged. “Once you lose your mate, you can do anything. It’s all easy. What did you want to ask me?”

“Why did you say that the statue was trying to see me?” I asked him, hoping it didn’t sound as crazy to Cutter as it did to me.

“Because he was. I could sense it. If I believed gorgons were like they were in the stupid version of their stories, I’d say they got him but he’s alive. So, it wasn’t them. Besides, rhodonite doesn’t do bad things. It’s not the sort of stone to do that.”

“Are you saying he’s a person?” I arched a brow as we started another loop.

“I don’t know what he is, but he was trying to get a better look at you,” Cutter shrugged.

***

That night after dinner, Sherry herded all the campers into the center of the camp.

We sat around on logs and introduced ourselves and said who we lost. The majority of my fellow campers lost a mate like Cutter and Sherry.

Some lost a parent or a grandparent. One zebra shifter lost a friend in a kayaking accident. I was the only one who lost a sibling.

“I bet we’re the only one who lost a sibling to an assassination because he was an asshat too,” my dragon chimed into my thoughts as Sherry rambled on about the camp rules.

Mostly they were about respecting each other and the property.

Grief made plenty of people smash things up, but I was past that stage.

Besides, why should I make the world more unfair for everyone else?

As the sun sank, I watched out of the corners of my eyes for Cutter’s recurrent ghostly attackers. There were a million theories as to why some people became ghosts and some didn’t. There were arguments about what the difference between a ghost and a spirit were. None of them made sense to me.

“Just be glad Torvan isn’t a ghost,” my dragon chuckled. “He’d probably be trying to kill us from beyond the grave.”

He probably would too.

After our support group meeting, I walked back to the cabin with Cutter still keeping my eye open for ghosts.

“They’re not going to get you,” he said, playfully bumping into me with his shoulder. “They’re after me.”

“Were you some badass in the war?” I asked and I hated myself for it as soon as the last word left my mouth.

“No. There are no badasses in war. There are those who live and those who don’t,” he shrugged. “Anything I did, I did to be one who lived.”

“Makes sense. I’m sorry I asked that,” I frowned at myself as the sky swallowed the last bit of light from the setting sun.

“It’s okay. Grief makes you ask weird questions. Was your brother a badass?” Cutter asked.

“Nope. He was good at being an ass,” I laughed, and he did too.

It wasn’t late enough to go to bed but back inside Cabin Three, Cutter changed into his pajamas and crawled all the way under the blanket until not a single hair nor toe stuck out from under it.

He really was hiding from the ghosts. I waited until he started to snore before I slipped my shoes back on and shouldered my bag.

He seemed to be a good guy and I genuinely hoped that he found what he needed at Camp Air.

Maybe he could get his head on straight and find love again.

“Do you have a crush on him?” my dragon teased from inside his inner sanctum.

“Nope. I can’t love someone soft and squishy. My life isn’t made for it. Hell, Torvan was tough as nails and he couldn’t survive it,” I sighed to him.

I held back a sound of relief when the doorknob turned without making a sound.

I looked around the cabin one last time.

It was a small kitchenette with two queen beds and an adjoining bathroom.

Both beds had nightstands complete with little shelves.

Neither of us had unpacked but I hoped Cutter would once I was gone.

Hell, he’d even dragged the pack under the blanket with him.

He probably thought I was a thief, after all. Poor fucking guy.