A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)(53)

“Right,” I said. “Ryan has to go do that thing that just sounds terrible, and I’m sure Morgan needs me to work on my Grimoire in silence without anyone else around talking about things like fate and destiny and blah, blah, blah.”

“Pete’s overseeing the knights,” Randall said. “And Morgan’s waiting for us.”

“Oh,” Ryan said. “Crap. Okay, but. Why do I have to go?”

“You’re Sam’s cornerstone, are you not?” Randall asked. “Though, I suppose if you’re too busy, we can always ask Ruv to stand in on your behalf. I’m sure he and Sam won’t gaze into each other’s eyes at all.”

I couldn’t help but be impressed at Randall’s blatant manipulation of the bastard standing next to me. It was really rather devious, and he knew exactly what buttons to press.

“Ruv’s going to be there?” Ryan growled.

“Absolutely,” Randall said. “Probably wearing less than he did yesterday too. You know, when he won the pull-up contest.”

“He didn’t win—”

“I hope you realize you can’t control me that easily,” I told Randall. “I will never fall for your schemes.”

“I’m the only person standing in the way of you becoming a full-fledged wizard,” Randall said.

“Yep,” I said. “Do you want us to follow you now or…?”




AND OF course Vadoma was waiting for us in the labs. Because that’s how my life worked. She barely even looked up at me as we passed through the door. Randall shut it behind us and clicked the lock, an action wholly unnecessary but probably done on purpose to make the situation that much more awkward.

And it didn’t make the situation any easier to see Ruv standing at her side. He wore a pair of loose-fitting pants cinched at the waist and a vest open at the chest with no shirt underneath.

“Doesn’t he own full sets of clothing?” Ryan muttered. “No one wants to see any of that.”

Far be it from me to argue with him, even if Ruv was of an attractive sort. I felt that old familiar tug at the sight of him, my magic recognizing him as the potential for something more. But it was muted, distant in comparison with the man standing next to me. It felt almost like an afterthought, the pang of something that could have been and nothing more.

Morgan stood at the opposite end of the labs, looking as tired as I’d ever seen him. Vadoma was standing at his side, hunched over the counter, flipping through—

“Hey!” I snapped, rushing forward. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? That’s my Grimoire!”

She didn’t even try and stop me as I pulled it away from her, slammed it closed, and cradled it against my chest. It wasn’t that I was ashamed about anything in there, but it was private. A wizard’s Grimoire was his legacy to the world, all his accomplishments and triumphs and mistakes written down into one tome for future generations to study when the time came. That didn’t mean I wanted anyone to read it now, especially since I tended to be a bit… descriptive about certain… things.

“That’s not a Grimoire, chava,” she said, sounding disgusted. “That is your diary. You write in pretty pink pen in your diary, little girl?”

“I told you,” Morgan said, an edge to his voice. “Every Grimoire is different. And it’s nothing you would understand, seeing as how you’re not a wizard. Sam is young, and his Grimoire reflects that. But it is still his. Not yours.”

It was almost enough to make me forgive him for being a liar and keeping shit from me for years. Close, but not quite.

“I’m not a wizard,” she agreed. “But I’ve known these books. I know what they hold. That is not the book of a man with a calling. That is the meanderings of a child.”

“I’m not a child.”

“In a corner on one page, you wrote Mrs. Sam Foxheart,” Vadoma said.

“Yes, well, I just wanted to see how it sounded—”

“Seven times.”

“I had to practice my signature, obviously—”

“And surrounded it with hearts.”

“It was romantic!”

“And then you did it on ten more pages.”

“Yeah, I might have gotten a little carried away. I can admit that. I have a problem, okay? But I can change. I’m not addicted to it! I swear!”

“You hear that?” Ryan said to Ruv. “He wants to be my wife. Not yours. Mine. Ryan Foxheart for the win!” He stopped just short of fist-pumping when he started to frown. “Wait a minute. My wife?”

“I trust Sam,” Morgan said, “to do what he’s supposed to do. Yes, he is young. And yes, he is sometimes prone to distraction. But he is still my apprentice. And I will stand by him until the end of my days.”

“Wow,” I said. “That was pretty close to getting you off my shit list. Well played, Morgan. It almost was enough to make up for the fact that you’ve lied to me since you’ve known me.”

“He can also be a vindictive little bastard,” Randall said. “Turned my nose into a penis once, can you believe that? All because I had the temerity to criticize him the barest amounts.”

I scowled at him. “You told me I was a waste of space and that Morgan would be better off with a doorknob as an apprentice.”