4

“Sweet,” Rasp said. “So, Aurelius, what can we do to turn that frown upside down?”

“What frown?” I asked, glancing up and frowning even more.

“You look pissed.” Vincent took a sip of his water. “Like, really mad.”

I put my glass down and heaved a sigh. “Shit,” I muttered. “I guess you’re right. It’s all this bullshit with the council. I spent the last two hours listening to them bickering about stuff that doesn't really matter. My dad included.”

Rubbing at my face, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I want prosperity as much as anyone, but I want it done honorably. I doubt all my father’s advisors and some of the other families think the same way. There should be a way to pursue peace, and increase our numbers at the same time. Most of them seem to think the only way to do that is through subjugating the fae and destroying the wolves. It’s short-sighted and dangerous.”

“One day, you’ll be king, though,” Vincent said, smiling encouragingly at me. “Then you can do what you want.”

I tried not to think of that too often. I loved my father, so the thought of him dying or being too old to fill the role didn’t sit well with me. Plus, as nice as it would be to be an all-powerful king and make all my problems go away with a wave of my hand, reality was a bit more difficult to navigate.

I patted Vince’s knee. “That’s true, but unfortunately, it isn’t that easy. The king doesn’t get to do whatever he wants. Not a dragon king, anyway.”

“Fuck those assholes,” Rasp said, lifting his glass in a toast gesture.

“God, you really have a way with words, Rasp,” I said.

The three of us devolved into laughter, and for a few seconds my worries vanished as I basked in the brotherhood I had with my friends. It was strange that my two closest friends were basically outcasts from their own families—Vincent for his obvious differences, and Rasp for being an immature party boy. They balanced me, though. I tended to be too serious, and Rasp’s flamboyance moderated that, while Vincent’s stoicism and innocence kept me from becoming too bitter and angry.

Gazing out on the night, I wondered if there was any way to keep things from sliding further than they already had. All I wanted was what was best for my people, but I didn’t want that at the expense of others. Was it too late for us already? And if not, how did I get us to where we needed to be?

“What are you thinking?” Vince asked. “You look upset.”

“Sorry,” I grunted. “It’s nothing you guys did. I’m simply trying to think of a way to make things better. I’m worried the situation with the wolves is going to get out of hand. I want our people to live in peace and be able to replenish our numbers. If we go to war with the wolves, there’s a strong possibility that won’t happen. It’s complicated. Nothing you guys need to worry about.”

It was my job as the heir to worry about these things. Vincent and Raspion were dragons as well, but since they were basically outcasts from their given houses, they had the benefit of not having to deal with political matters. I envied them for that.

“Huh,” Rasp said, chewing on his lower lip.

Something about his tone of voice drew me out of my thoughts and wariness seeped in.

“What do you mean ‘huh’? I don’t like that tone of voice,” I said.

He glanced at me quickly, plastering a smile on his face. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”

“About what?” I asked dryly.

Rasp winked at Vincent. “Stuff.”

“What the fuck are you up to?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice even.

Rasp gave me a sly grin. “Nothing.”

“It better be nothing,” I said, leveling a finger at him.

“You’re being paranoid, bro,” Rasp said.

I wasn’t sure I was. The last thing I needed was for my friends to start stepping in shit and making matters worse.

2

BRIELLE

“D

ouble chocolate chip frappuccino, please,” I said to the barista.

“Sure, what size?” she asked.

“The biggest one you have. Do you have a five-gallon bucket? I’ll take that.”

The barista laughed. “I’ll do my best. Name for the order?”

“Brielle, but use Elle,” I said with a smile as I took the receipt from her.

Standing off to the side to wait, I allowed myself to enjoy the bitter smell of the roasting beans and brewing coffee. Regardless of the time of day, the tangy aroma always reminded me of the morning. I wish it was still morning, then I wouldn’t have had such a shitty, frustrating day at work so far. My job at the sewing store wasn’t usually pretty low on the stress meter, but today had been the exception to the rule.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from beside me.

Turning, I found a man roughly my own age, around twenty-six or seven, smiling at me.

I frowned. “Uh, yes?”

His gaze slid from my face down my body, then back to meet my eyes again.

“I don’t usually do this, but you are really gorgeous,” he said.

My body was one of my defining features, and I knew it. My shoulders were broad for a woman, but the generous curves of the rest of my body softened that feature. I had big boobs, a round butt, and I was muscular in a healthy way. Although I was still a little plump around the middle, it sat atop some hard-earned muscle. I wore a size sixteen dress, but I was comfortable in my skin, and I think that confidence helped. My wolf shifter genes did lend a lot to my muscle mass, but I also loved running and swimming, which did even more to keep me healthy and as fit as I could be. Honestly, I cared more about health and fitness than I did some generalized fantasy of what a woman should look like.

Over the years, I’d grown accustomed to random men and women complimenting my curves as well as my green eyes and chestnut hair. A woman who’d hit on me once had called the combo striking. Typically, I let people down easy, but I’d had a rough day.

“Thanks. It’s the steroids, actually. You should see all the acne on my back.” I did my best to keep a straight face as I winked at him.

He blinked in confusion and surprise. “Oh, uh, I’m not sure that…uh⁠—”

“Elle! Order up!”

“Oh, that’s me,” I said. “Gotta go.”

Leaving the man to his embarrassment, I hurried to grab my order. I nodded a thanks to the barista again as I tucked a straw into the cup and left the coffee shop. Outside, the cool air kissed my cheeks, and the misty rain stuck to my skin. The temperature was pleasantly chilly, like a perfect fall day should be. Taking a draw of my drink through the straw, I sighed in contentment as the sweet, semi-frozen liquid hit my taste buds.

“Yeah, that hits the spot.”

Again, my thoughts returned to work. It had been such a pain-in-the-ass day. Some lady had come in demanding a certain fabric, something with a paisley print on it, because she was making Sunday dresses for her grandkids. A simple enough task, but after showing her four different bolts of fabric, she’d thrown a hissy fit because none of them were the right color. She’d spent the next hour badmouthing the store and doing her level best to make my entire day miserable. When she’d finally left, I felt as though I’d run a marathon.

As I walked back to the sewing shop, I tried my best to look on the bright side. I was doing this because I wanted to, not because I had to. I’d taken the job to stay busy and learn from Lorainne, the shop owner. Ever since I was a little girl, I’d wanted to learn to sew and make pretty clothes. Lorraine gave me free lessons on my off days and whenever the shop wasn’t busy. She paid me minimum wage, but the lessons more than made up for the money. Besides, I didn’t need to be paid. My family gave me a generous stipend to stay hidden and away.

I was the disgrace of the Laurent family. A black spot on the name of the most powerful shifter family. When I was younger, depression and sadness had always accompanied any thoughts about my exile, but after living the life of an ostracized eldest child, I’d grown to accept it. Hell, plenty of people would give their left arm if they didn’t have to worry about money and got to live in a fancy apartment that someone else paid for. The bitter reality of your family not wanting you could be forgotten. After all this time, I’d come to believe that the bonds of friendship were stronger than those of family—even if Delphine was my only friend.

“Welcome back, sweetie,” Lorraine called as I stepped back into the shop.

“Hey. Was it busy while I was gone?”

Lorraine turned from the case where she was unpacking sewing machine bobbins and rolled her eyes at me.

“After that”—she glanced around to make sure no one was in the store—“bitch this morning, I wouldn’t mind if we didn’t have another customer all day.”

I snorted and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Hearing the seventy-year-old woman cuss was always the highlight of my day.

“Elle, could you get that box of red thread off the shelf in the back?” she asked as I rounded the corner.

With my impressive stature, I towered over all the other women who worked here. Standing at five-eleven, I was a good five inches taller than the next tallest employee. My height meant I could easily reach things on high shelves, so Lorraine and the others didn’t have to use a step stool.

“Sure thing.” I put my drink down and headed to the shelf.