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The Alpha Dragon's Mate (Dragon Shifters of Kahului Book 2) Page 2


  "It's okay," Ella said. "I know how to put it together." Another blush appeared on her cheeks.

  Admiration flickered over Gregor's face before he nodded and came back into the living room.

  The doorbell rang right afterward. Ella cleared her throat and rushed over, thankful for the interruption. Every time she talked to Gregor she felt tongue-tied. She opened the door, sensing Gregor's presence right behind her. She stiffened and forced herself to relax. He was here for the pizzas. Ella couldn't carry eight by herself.

  Relax, she admonished herself. She paid the driver and tipped him generously for his mad carrying skills and allowed Gregor to reach over and take all of them. His arm brushed against hers and heat rolled down her spine. She gave the driver an awkward smile and shut the door.

  Gregor looked ridiculous carrying all of those pizzas. An unbidden smile formed on her mouth as she watched him. He set them carefully down on her new table. She hadn't yet bought the chairs, so people were going to be eating where they could.

  "PIZZA!" Sebastian exclaimed. He sprung from his seat, stumbled, and fell into Ella's bookshelf. A loud crash cracked through the room, and she watched in horror as one of the main shelves cracked and fell to the floor. Two of the metal brackets snapped from the wall.

  The silence was deafening.

  Ella's mouth opened, shut, and opened again. But all she could do was shake her head, inhale a shaky breath, and leave the room before she said something she couldn't take back.

  As soon as Ella shut the door behind her, murmured voices rose in the living room. She couldn't hear them, but the words "imbecile" and "dolt" were loud enough to filter through the fog.

  It was a bookshelf. She shouldn't be upset.

  Ella sat down on the edge of her bed and gripped the sides of the mattress to stop her hands from shaking. When she was sixteen, she filed for emancipation from the courts. She won her case, lied about her age, and took a job to support herself. The shelving was the first major purchase she made when she met Sara and moved in. At the time, her room was too small to install the entire thing, so she contented herself with only putting up a small portion of it. The rest was still in the box and had only come out when she moved here.

  The shelf could be replaced, but it wouldn't be cheap. It was the one thing she had that she really felt was hers. Ella ran a hand through her hair. She'd need to figure out how to fix the sheetrock, too. Sebastian was at least 250 pounds, so she was surprised there wasn't much damage.

  She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but it must have been at least half an hour. A soft knock on the door sounded, startling her out of her thoughts.

  She got up, straightened her hair, wiped her eyes, and opened the door.

  Gregor stood there, a larger than life presence in the small doorway.

  "Hi," she said stupidly.

  "Ella," he started, his gray eyes searching hers. "Sebastian is an idiot."

  A wet laugh escaped her.

  "Everyone has left, and I hope you don't mind me staying behind. Your friends warned me to leave you alone." He paused. "But I, too, know what it is to lose something precious." A tenuous smile appeared on his lips. "I know how much you love books and learning. Sebastian will bear the costs of any repairs. In fact, when he gets home, he will be on the receiver speaking to someone who can fix your wall first."

  Ella frowned at the word receiver but realized he was talking about the phone.

  "That isn't necessary—" she began.

  Gregor shook his head. "It is necessary. Dragons have honor. Even Sebastian. I assure you he feels terrible." He scrubbed a hand over his chin. "Next time, he will hold his seat when pizza arrives in the room."

  Her lips trembled, and she couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. "Thank you, Gregor."

  He placed a fist against his heart and gave her a little bow. "It is my pleasure, my lady."

  Gregor turned and picked up his leather satchel. She watched the powerful muscles play in his back as he bent. Her mouth went dry as the fabric pulled against his skin. Heat pooled within her, and she straightened with the shock of it. Never had a glance at a man affected her so deeply.

  Gregor turned, still bent, and stared at her for a moment. His eyes widened and Ella noticed his hands shake before he clenched them into fists. Grabbing his pack, he abruptly straightened. Seconds later, he was out of the door and she was left alone, confused about what had just happened.

  2

  Gregor

  He wanted to roar at the audacity of it all. The telltale gold of the mating bond had shimmered around Ella when he was picking up his pack. He shut his eyes and flared his nostrils out, still scenting the woman the Gods had chosen as his mate. She smelled of all things good and clean in his world, of fresh berries, picked during a winter's morning, and sunlight.

  It should be impossible. It was impossible. Yet, there was no mistaking the bond once it formed.

  He knew what it looked like.

  He'd seen it before when he married Telya.

  Never had he heard of a dragon being granted two boons by the gods. Two mates. Two women to love, heart and soul.

  In his heart, there was a spark of hope, a light beyond the darkness. But in his head, he knew it had to be a mistake. He wasn't virtuous, heroic, or lucky enough to receive a gift like this. When Telya passed away, he'd assumed he was being punished for failing in his duty the first time they battled Ludovic or for a multitude of other sins he'd committed over his very long life.

  He leaned against a brick structure in the parking lot of Ella's apartment complex, thunderstruck and unable to get his wits about him. Telya with hair the color of honey and a smile so full of life it made everything else look dim. He remembered when he first saw her picking flowers for her mother out on her family's property. He'd been alone, walking along a desolate road after yet another battle for the sovereign king.

  When he locked eyes with Telya, he knew immediately. When she smiled at him and brought him into her home to tend his wounds, he knew he would never forsake her.

  And when she died, he vowed to never love another woman again. There was no love comparable to a mating bond. It was ... indescribable.

  Yet, when he'd arrived on this new Earth and saw the woman with the strange spectacles on her face and those azure colored eyes, something long-dead within his chest had come alive. Stunned by her, he couldn't help but watch her whenever he thought she wasn't looking. She moved gracefully, even with her tiny size. Her hands were lean and tanned, her nails unpainted. Dark hair spilled down her back in waves when she deigned to wear it down. Normally, she put it up in a strange thing on top of her head, but when she took it down and it spilled over her shoulders, his mouth went dry and he imagined all the ways he could be with her.

  Memories of his wife would always intrude, and he would squash those thoughts into submission.

  Tonight was something different. If the mating bond was true, there was hope for him. Hope that maybe he had not been forsaken. If he was before, and she was really his mate, perhaps the gods had forgiven him.

  Maybe now Gregor could begin to forgive himself.

  Careful to cloak himself from prying eyes, Gregor flew straight up into the air and shifted mid-flight into a large blue dragon. He sped into the cloudy night so he could drop the cloak and screech a sound of freedom. Never had he thought this would happen. He realized now why he was drawn to her, why he couldn't stop thinking about her. It was all beginning to make sense.

  There was a larger question lingering here. Would opening himself up to Ella dishonor himself in the eyes of Telya?

  He flew through the quiet night, his thoughts tangled like used fishing line. So far, he liked everything about the quiet bookworm, but he sensed there was a hidden depth to her he didn't know. Someone in her past hurt her. He could tell when she watched her friends sometimes. There was a flicker of sadness in her eyes when everyone else was happy. In the six months they'd been home, he never once saw her with a male
companion, and he knew she never spoke on the phone to anyone. It was a perk of being a dragon. Very few conversations were able to get past him.

  There was no other male in her life right now. A spike of rage hit him as he thought about it. If there had been, Gregor would do everything he possibly could to end it.

  He swooped down, shifting quickly back into human form so he could land on the balcony of Sara's home with little fanfare.

  When his feet touched down, he slid into the home through the glass door. Sebastian lay sprawled across the couch, his handsome face pensive and brooding. As soon as he saw Gregor, he sat up.

  "I must apologize again, Gregor." Sebastian looked wrecked about what he'd done. This was a relief for Gregor because sometimes he wondered about his friend and if he was able to process emotions like the rest of them. Sebastian was rarely serious and chased skirts like he was a monster, and they were gladiators. It was exhausting, really. So seeing him like this sent a tinge of relief through him.

  "Peace, brother. She wasn't angry at you. She was angry about what happened. The shelves are precious to her."

  Sebastian's nose wrinkled. "Don't you think it's a strange thing to get upset about?"

  Anger rose in Gregor. His look was steady as he addressed his friend. "Sometimes people and dragons attach meaning to things which might not mean something to anyone else. Do you not have anything you would be upset about losing?"

  Sebastian’s gaze slid over to the one with curly dark hair. She was an exotic beauty from a place Gregor could not name, but she didn't seem to like Sebastian all that much. He watched as Sebastian swallowed and pulled his gaze back to Gregor.

  "I can't say I do," Sebastian said.

  A tight smile formed on his face. "You will, brother. Sooner than you'd like, I'm afraid." There was no hint of the bond yet, but Gregor had no doubt it would come.

  A huff escaped Sebastian. As if that would ever happen to him, was what he was saying, without saying a word.

  Gregor rarely smiled, but a wide grin stretched his face. His friend was in denial. He couldn't wait to watch Sebastian go through this process. For some people, like him and Telya, there were no words. They just knew and accepted it like the tide accepted the pull of the moon.

  For others, it was much more difficult. Things like pride and old wounds got in the way. He thought about Sara and Daegal and how hard it had been for them. The woman had borne a son of dragon blood while his prince was away fighting. Gregor had to admire a woman who could do that and then tell the prince she didn't want him anymore when he came back.

  The grin stayed on his face as he remembered Daegal's face. He looked like he'd been slapped in the face with a fish. Few rejected the future king of the dragons.

  But Sara had done it for her pride and her son.

  She'd been the first new Earth woman he'd seen with a spine of steel and a heart of courage.

  But ... Ella. She was different, and he expected if their bond was real, their challenge would be quite trying.

  "Shut it, Gregor," Sebastian growled. He flopped back against the cushions, a study of handsome excess.

  Gregor rolled his eyes. Sometimes the gods made people too pretty, and they abused that gift throughout their life. He couldn't wait until his friend realized the woman in the kitchen was who he was meant to be with.

  A Sebastian who kept his dick in his pants was a Sebastian the new world needed.

  He tossed his pack down on the floor next to the other couch. It wasn't that late yet, but darkness had crawled over the horizon a while ago. Gregor pulled the bed from the couch and marveled at the invention. It was both space-saving and convenient. When Jillian first showed him this, he was agog at all the possibilities of the new world. It had taken him a while to completely trust the bed and for the first few nights. He hadn't slept much, convinced he'd crash through the mattress and onto the floor below him.

  Now he was an old hat at it and was becoming more and more familiar with the world he'd stepped into after sleeping for so long.

  Jillian and Carrie were in the kitchen making tea, and there was no sign of Daegal or Sara. Edvard had taken to disappearing quite often once the new dragon prince was born. The house they lived in was becoming smaller and smaller. The two women left planned to move out within the next month or two, but Gregor was wondering what would become of them. They had none of what was called credit and probably couldn't rent anything right now. The concept of credit wasn't completely foreign to him, but the way it was done made his head hurt.

  Back home, he could go into a shop and ask the owner to give him something on his word of honor he would pay him later. It was as easy as that.

  New humans did not appreciate this. It was almost like they either had no honor or didn't trust it. Gregor struggled with this the first few months he was here. If there was no honor, was there anything? He reached behind the couch and pulled out a larger bag full of items he'd collected during his stay here. Ella had taken them down to one of the local shops to get them some clothes for the surf, which was strange. Back home they did not wear clothing while in the water. Here it was frowned upon.

  He didn't much care for the surf clothes, but the soft sleep clothing pleased him. Gregor pulled out a pair of soft cotton pants and a white tank. Ella referred to it as a "wife beater" but he didn't find it as funny as she did. When he questioned why she called a simple shirt such a derogatory name, she'd stared at him for a few seconds before her expression turned sober.

  "You're right," she said. "It's a dumb name."

  "It is," Gregor had agreed as he held the shirt out in front of him. "And I don't understand where the arms went."

  Ella showed him how to put it on, and he was immediately pleased.

  Now, Gregor thumbed the shirt and smiled at the memory. She'd never called that shirt the weird name again. Now she called it a tank top. It was much more pleasing than the other name.

  The pants were his favorite. Even the things she called underwear were nice. He never realized how much things jiggled down there until he'd put those things on and everything ... stopped. When he realized how wonderful they were, he’d called a nonplussed Ella out of her room and demanded to go shopping for more right then.

  She'd colored prettily and insisted Daegal take him. Gregor still didn't understand why she didn't want to take him for a necessity, but Daegal explained it later.

  Humans were weird about nudity and natural things pertaining to the body. He couldn't understand it. In this state, people walked around half-naked all the time.

  Shaking his head, Gregor dropped the clothing on the mattress and dug through the pack again for the strangest thing of all: something Ella called flip flops.

  She said they were her favorite things on Earth, but Gregor still couldn't get used to the slap, slap, slap noise they made and the feeling of something in between his toes. Still, she liked them so he kept trying to like them for her.

  Gregor frowned down at the hideous shoes, scooped everything up in his arms, and headed to the empty bathroom.

  When he was dressed and came out, Sebastian was staring at the door. When he walked out, a grin crossed his friend's face. "Adapting to life pretty well, aren't you?" Sebastian glanced meaningfully at his tank top.

  "It's comfortable," Gregor said and flexed his biceps. "There's no restriction on movement and it cools me down. It's a clever invention." He looked at Sebastian's attire. "Perhaps you should try it."

  Sebastian wore a long sleeve shirt and long pants. There would be nothing wrong with it, but the clothing was shiny.

  His friend plucked at his shirt. "This is what the fancy people wear," he announced. "It's all the rage in the one percent."

  Jillian and Carrie were carrying their tea back to their rooms. They stopped when Sebastian started talking about his pajamas and wore identical expressions of disbelief.

  "Do you know what some people call the one percent who wear silk button-down pajamas to bed?" Jillian asked. Her voice w
as far too sweet to be genuine. This woman was like a prickly hedgehog, and it would do Sebastian well to be wary when her voice turned to honey.

  "What do they call them?" Sebastian asked cautiously.

  "Douchebags," Jillian said.

  Carrie snorted tea through her nose and started to choke.

  Sebastian straightened from the couch. "I assume a 'douchebag' is a derogatory human term?"

  Jillian laughed out loud. "You could say that."

  "I would not begrudge a man the feeling of this across his skin," Sebastian said, miffed. "It feels like the finest silk."

  "It's powder blue," Jillian said. "You look like you're waiting for Elton John to come home so you two can spoon."

  Carrie was still choking.

  "Woman, are you okay?" Gregor asked.

  She waved a hand, her face turning bright red.

  Jillian's eyes glittered with glee. "Goodnight, Sebastian," she said. She nodded to Gregor.

  "Goodnight, you foul wench," Sebastian muttered. He pulled a blanket up over himself.

  "Enjoy those jammies," she said as she walked away. A few seconds later, he heard both doors click shut.

  "She's terrible," Sebastian said. "How a woman like Sara could have a friend like her is well beyond me."

  Gregor fought to keep the smile from his face. "You of all people should understand the hidden depths of people."

  Sebastian snorted. "We both know there is no depth to me. I'm a shallow pool."

  Gregor said nothing. They both knew he was lying. Sebastian might be shallow on the outside, but it was possible he was more complicated than all of them.

  "Goodnight, brother," Gregor said.

  "'Night," Sebastian mumbled.

  Both were asleep within moments, the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore lulling them into dreamland.