Liam Takes Manhattan (Elder Races #9.5)(2)

“You’ll have to show him to me soon.” She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and turned with him toward the stairwell. “In the meantime, let’s get inside where it’s warm. Your father and I want to talk to you.”

Reluctantly he gave up the wild solitude of the night and went with her downstairs to the penthouse.

Huge though the penthouse was, the walls and warmth felt as confining as his parents’ concern, but he endured being inside for her sake. The living room lay mostly in shadows, except for the brilliant multicolored lights glowing on the Christmas tree in the corner.

Pia had been half human before she had accessed her Wyr nature and successfully changed into her Wyr form. As a child, she had celebrated both the Masque and Christmas with her mother, and she had continued that tradition when she became Dragos’s mate.

As a result, Christmas decorations filled both the penthouse and their home in upstate New York. Dragos had been content to indulge her, and had joined in the preparations. Stacks of colorfully wrapped presents lay underneath the tree.

Once inside, Pia pulled away and hurried down the hall toward the brightly lit kitchen and dining room. Liam paused momentarily, his dragon’s eyes appreciating the lavish decorations and bright jewel-like colors adorning the tree before he strolled to catch up with her.

He knew his father was in the dining room before he rounded the corner. Whenever they were in close proximity, Liam always knew where Dragos was. He could sense Dragos’s Power in his mind’s eye, like a burning sun. He wondered if his father could sense him in the same way.

Dragos stood at the head of the dining table, his attention focused on the large beef roast on the platter in front of him as he carved it into thin slices. Light from the overhead chandelier gleamed off his black hair and outlined his tall, broad-shouldered figure against the plate glass window behind him.

Porcelain clinked in the kitchen as Pia prepared other dishes. A brief surge of revulsion hit Liam at the sight and smell of the roast. He had eaten so much raw prey lately, the cooked meat looked vaguely revolting.

His dragon focused on the sharp knife his father wielded with such competent, lethal dexterity. Carefully, Liam throttled the beast back. He and his father loved each other too.

Dragos never lifted his head from his task. He said in a quiet voice, “Tell me you’re in control, and I will believe you.”

He hesitated. Of course his father would sense how close to the surface his dragon was. Dragos had been Lord of the Wyr for a very long time. No doubt he had dealt with many Wyr struggling with the feral side of their natures.

Straightening his shoulders, Liam replied steadily, “I’m in control.”

Dragos’s piercing gold gaze stabbed at him. Then his father turned his attention back to carving the roast. “Good enough. Go help your mom.”

At the order, rebellion surged through him like a flash fire.

He thought, I’m not a child anymore. I won’t do everything you tell me to do just because you tell me to do it.

As quickly as it hit, the rebellion subsided again, leaving him rueful and wary. Perhaps he wasn’t quite as in control as he thought he was, or wanted to be.

Silently, he obeyed, walking into the kitchen to wash his hands. Afterward, he picked up serving platters filled with roasted sweet and white potatoes, Brussels sprouts sautéed in garlic and olive oil, and gravy.

Pia was just putting the finishing touches on her own meal, a vegan roast with vegan gravy. As he carried the food to the dining room, she gave him a grateful look.

With the quick ease of familiarity, they were soon seated. Dragos and Pia had wine. They didn’t offer him any, and why would they? He was less than a year old. To them, he was a gigantic, dangerous child.

But he wasn’t a child. Not any longer. He was young, very young and inexperienced, but no longer a child. Bitterness whipped through him at the thought. He throttled that back too. He was fast growing tired of this constant battle with himself.

After passing the food around, he took note when his mom and dad exchanged a look.

Here it is, he thought as he toyed with his food with a fork. Whatever it is they want to say to me.

Dragos turned to him. “Your mom and I want to apologize.”

Taken aback, he blinked. “Apologize for what?”

Pia said, “We swore we wouldn’t let this happen, but we got too busy and time slipped away from us. We had come to a decision a few months ago, but with the new pregnancy, and the trips to Washington DC and Los Angeles, and then getting ready for the Masque, and—and Con’s death—” Her voice wobbled then firmed again. “Well, the last few months have been really hectic.”

“I know,” he replied, eyeing both of them cautiously. He had no idea where this conversation was going. “You’ve been more busy than usual. I get it. What’s wrong?”

At that, Dragos and Pia exchanged another, longer look, their expressions too complex for him to read. Pia turned to him and said in a quiet voice, “Nothing new is wrong, my love. A few months ago we decided to let you have a dog, but we haven’t had time to do anything about it. We want to get you a puppy for Christmas. Would you enjoy that?”

Carefully he set down his fork and repeated, “You want to get me a puppy.”

“You’ve wanted a dog so badly,” Pia said. While her face and voice remained mild, he noticed she hadn’t touched her food either. “But your dad thinks it’s best if you start with a puppy, so that it can get acclimated to the predator Wyr it would be living with. I compiled a list of breeders that we could visit next week, if you like.”