Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(88)

“How kind of her.” Jaxon stepped outside the cabin, shifted, and took flight.

Valmont slammed the door and then turned to lean his back against it.

“Do we have to go back?” Seeing his grandmother again, who had looked all warm and loving on the outside, but was mean and conniving on the inside, was just too much. She’d had such hopes for a warm family dinner, something to replace a bit of what she’d lost. While her own grandparents meant well, most of the time, they didn’t do warm and loving. Maybe warm and loving wasn’t part of dragon culture. It certainly didn’t seem to be part of her life.

“We don’t have to go back, unless you find the idea of your grandmother teaming up with mine as terrifying as I do.”

“That is one scary thought.”

“Then we have to go back.”

Once they were parked back at Fonzoli’s, Bryn balked. “I can’t go back in there with you.”

“Why not?”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “It’s stupid, but I can’t take any more rejection. When I came here today, I thought I’d find a place where I was welcomed, where I could belong.” Bitter laughter poured from her throat.

He slid over and put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re welcome here. My grandmother’s overprotective of me. I don’t like what she did, but it’s over. Can’t we go inside, ignore everyone, and have a nice meal?”

Every instinct told her no. Should she do it for him? He would do anything for her. She knew that. What did it say about her that she wouldn’t do the same? Did it mean his grandmother was right? That settled it. She’d go inside and pretend to have a nice time if for no other reason than to show his grandmother she was wrong. Because she needed his grandmother to be wrong.

“Am I allowed to shoot fireballs at anyone who is mean to me?”

He tapped his chin like he was thinking about it. “That might set the house on fire, and that would put a damper on Christmas. You could accidentally cough up a snowball if you want.”

“I guess that will have to do.”

His grandmother watched them walk up to the doorway, but stood blocking the entrance with her arms crossed over her chest. “You are a rude, headstrong girl.”

What the hell? Could she insult his grandmother back? Was that allowed?

“You’re being rude to my guest,” Valmont said in a quiet voice. “Are we invited in for lunch or not?”

His grandmother narrowed her eyes, but stepped aside, muttering something in Italian. Valmont stiffened.

“What did she say?” Bryn asked.

“It’s not worth repeating.” Valmont put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head.

She leaned into his warmth, knowing what she needed to do and not wanting to do it. She lifted her face to meet his gaze. “There isn’t a single way I can imagine this lunch ending well. I should go.”

Maybe he’d disagree with her. A spark of hope flared in her gut, or maybe that was just residual anger.

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right. I’ll drive you back.”

“No. Stay and have a nice lunch with the members of your family that don’t hate me.” She shot his grandmother a look. “I’ll fly back. I need the exercise to burn off some of this anger.”

“Are you sure you know how to get back to your grandparents’ estate?”

She laughed and pointed to the east. “Fly that way until I see the obscenely large house that reeks of money and tradition?”

“That sounds about right.” His single dimple appeared. As long as he still cared about her, things seemed okay.

She stepped outside, gave a small wave, and then shifted. It might have been immature, but she took a moment to glare at his grandmother and growl. Then she pushed off the ground and took flight. Straight up into the air, she pumped her wings and reveled in the sensation of freedom that flying always brought. In dragon form, she could fly anywhere, do anything. If only there was a place she wanted to go. Maybe someday she and Valmont would take a trip together.

From the cloudy sky, she studied the layout of Dragon’s Bluff, and the winding road leading out of town to Valmont’s cabin. Farther off into the forest toward the east lay her grandparents’ estate. It wasn’t visible, but she knew it was there.

Allowing the wind to carry away her anger, she flew toward her destination. Was anyone else out enjoying the cool December weather, or were they all inside spending Christmas with their families? Best not to go down that path. Thinking about her parents, about what she’d never have again if Valmont’s grandmother was any indication, would lead to tears. If she cried, it would be behind closed doors where no one could interpret her feelings as weakness.

Wait. Where had that thought come from? If she wanted to cry, she’d cry wherever she wanted to. Who cared what other dragons thought? Her grandparents would care. Jaxon would care. Damn it all if her Blue genes weren’t starting to make her care, too. Must be some type of inbred instinct. Her friends had told her that Blues were notoriously proud, but loyal to a fault, which meant revenge was the first option for some of them.

So what if everyone else had a cozy family to spend time with. She’d do just fine with her grandparents, Valmont, and her friends. What other choice did she have?