A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)(93)

“We’ll talk about it later,” Ryan said, foolishly trying to hold on to his convictions. He should have known better by now. I would never let this go.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Gary said. “Guarantee you’ll be living in your own gypsy palace a week after we get back.”

“Two weeks,” I said. “At most.”

“Can we focus on the whole saving-the-world thing first?” Ryan asked. “Because I feel like that should be our priority.”

“Gods,” I muttered. “You’re such a knight sometimes.”

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Such a knight,” Tiggy said. “Calm your tits, Knight Delicious Face.”

Before we could go any further (and knowing us, this conversation would have probably gone on for at least another hour), the yellow door opened, and out stepped Ruv, the Wolf of Bari Lavuta.

“Does he always have to be shirtless?” Ryan asked. “Does he own shirts? I can give him one of mine. Probably would be too big on him. Because I’m bigger than he is. So my shirts would be too.”

“It’s embarrassing to witness, isn’t it?” Gary said to Tiggy.

“No self-awareness,” Tiggy agreed.

“Sam,” Ruv said, a small smile on his face. “Welcome home. I hope the journey was an uneventful one. Mashallaha is honored to have you here.”

“I have bunions,” Gary said. “On my hooves. It was not uneventful. If anything, it was an event. I demand retribution because of—welcome home? Oh, no. No, no, no. I’m onto you, exotic twink. Don’t think that I’m not.”

“This isn’t my home,” I said. “But we appreciate the greeting nonetheless. Mashallaha is very beautiful. I can see why you would be proud of your city. But it is not my own.” I could be diplomatic when the situation called for it. Morgan had made sure of that. But I was already on edge in being here, unsure of what else could be waiting for us.

“The people have been less than welcoming,” Ryan said. “Insinuations about Sam’s parentage, the lack of a proper honor guard. Is this how Mashallaha greets the King’s Wizard?”

“Apprentice,” Gary coughed. “Still an apprentice.”

The smile on Ruv’s face didn’t shrink. If anything, it widened, just a little. “Forgive us, Knight Commander,” he said, bowing the barest amount. “Vadoma doesn’t stand on ceremony as they do in Lockes. And as far as the people are concerned, I assure you, they are merely curious about Mashallaha’s long-lost son.”

“The guards said he was diluted,” Ryan spat. “That the gypsies thought him weak because he was lighter in color than they were.”

Ruv’s eyes narrowed. He turned and barked out something in his native tongue, the words clipped and harsh. Left and Right snapped to attention, nodding furiously before brushing past us back the way we’d come. Kevin snapped his jaws after them, and they squeaked as they ran faster. The dragon winked at me before sitting back up and glaring at Ruv.

“My apologies,” Ruv said, voice kind. “No one should ever be judged by the color of their skin.”

“I never have been before,” I said. “Until today. It was… eye-opening.”

“Some are stuck in old ways.” Ruv stepped forward until he was right in front of me. We were the same height, and his eyes were dark and deep. He reached up, rested a hand on my bicep, and squeezed it gently. “But not all of us think that way. And I assure you, your grandmother does not.”

I chuckled bitterly. “Right, because she showed kindness to my father.”

“Tradition.” Ruv shrugged. “Our culture is steeped in it, even if we don’t understand much of it anymore. Such is the way of things. Come, you must be weary. Vadoma will meet with you now.” He glanced over my shoulder, the quickest of things, before looking back at me. “Alone, if it pleases you. She would have time with her grandson, one on one. The others will be fed and shown to their rooms.”

“Not gonna happen,” Ryan said, taking a step forward, knocking Ruv’s hand off my arm. “We don’t know you, we don’t know this place. You’re not separating us at any point.”

And that… well. I got what he was saying. I knew what he was trying to do. And I also knew that Ryan Foxheart’s protective streak was a mile wide. I appreciated it, because I loved him. I knew what he’d lost in his life, and that he thought he didn’t have much to call his own. But sometimes it almost pushed too far, like he thought I wasn’t capable of handling myself. Like I knew Randall thought. And Morgan sometimes did, even though he’d deny it. And lumping Ryan in with those two was probably not my best choice at the moment, given that Randall and Morgan were on my shit list.

“Give us a moment?” I asked Ruv sweetly. “Gotta have a quick word with my babe.”

Ruv bowed his head in response.

I gripped Ryan by the arm and started dragging him away from the others.

“Uh-oh,” Gary said. “He’s gone and done it now.”

“Sam don’t need no mens?” Tiggy asked as he started to unload the packs from Gary’s back.

“He is a strong and independent twink who don’t need no mens,” Gary agreed.