A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)(94)
“I am not a twink,” I growled over my shoulder.
“Little bit,” Kevin said. “Okay, a lot.”
Ryan looked like he had geared himself up for a fight by the time we were out of earshot. So I said, “I love you,” and he melted a little, like I knew he would. “But I also don’t need you protecting me all the time.”
“It’s not all the time,” he said, sounding chagrined. “It’s just a lot of the times.”
It would have been irritating if it wasn’t so godsdamned adorable. “You won’t always be there, Ryan.”
That was probably the wrong thing to say. The expression on his face hardened. “I told you that I would, Sam. Nothing’s going to break us apart.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean like—look. There are going to be times when you aren’t around that I’ll need to take care of myself. And if you hadn’t noticed, there were twenty years before you where I did just that. I don’t need you coming to my rescue all the time. I need you to trust me enough to know that I can handle things on my own.”
“I do trust you. You know that.”
Gods, I was such a sucker for earnestness. And no one could do earnest like the Knight Commander. “I know you do.”
“But we’re also a team,” he said. “And sometimes I think you forget that. You’re not alone. It’s not just the Sam, Gary, and Tiggy show anymore. There are more of us here now, things mean more, and yet you still choose to be reckless.”
Ouch. That… hurt. Probably more than it should have. “I’m not reckless,” I said stiffly.
He sighed. “Of course that’s what you took from that.”
“What else was there to take? Enlighten me.”
His face did that thing again where he was frustrated. “I just…. Sam, with all of this. This prophecy. This… your grandmother, the star dragon, all the other dragons.” He hesitated. Then, “Myrin. I mean, have you thought all of this through? What the repercussions are? What this could mean for you? For us? For Verania? Or are you running away half-cocked like you always do?”
“Half-cocked? What the hell? And I’m not running. From anything.”
“You ran from Morgan and Randall,” he said, and I couldn’t help but bristle at that. Only because he was right. “And don’t tell me you didn’t. We both know what happened. We both know the only reason we’re here right now is because you’re angry. I don’t blame you for that. I don’t know that I’d be any different. But that’s why—”
“Wrong,” I said coolly. “We’re here right now because apparently something or someone saw fit to make sure I get screwed no matter what I want for myself. That if it’s not one thing, it’s another. I’m here because there is a man coming who could take away everything I love. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen. And if I have to take the word of a fucking crazy old lady that I’ve never met before who claims I have a destiny written in the stars, then I will. Everything I thought I knew, everything about who I’m supposed to be has been a lie. This is the last thing I can do to regain control. And by gods, I’m going to do it.”
“Really,” he said, taking a step back and shaking his head. “Everything has been a lie. That’s how you see it. So I suppose Gary and Tiggy wouldn’t die for you. That your parents don’t worship the ground you walk on. That the King of Verania doesn’t think you’re one of the greatest things he’s ever known. That two of the most powerful wizards in the world don’t bend over backwards to keep you safe.” He laughed, but it was a harsh sound. “That I don’t love you with everything I am. Because why would that be true?”
“Ryan—”
“You should go to Vadoma,” he said, looking over my shoulder. “Alone. Like you wanted. She doesn’t seem like the type who’s okay with waiting. But that’s okay. Since you can handle yourself and all.”
He brushed past me without another word.
And I didn’t even try and stop him.
Chapter 14: The King of Sorrow
“I’VE ASKED Ruv to join us,” Vadoma Tshilaba said. “I feel it prudent to have his input. He is well-versed in the desert dragon.”
I nodded but didn’t speak. We sat in a darkened room, the windows covered in thick curtains, only a sliver of sunlight slipping through. The room felt warm, humid, and it wasn’t helped by the numerous flickering candles she had lit in all corners. We were in the very topmost carriage, having walked up the staircase that wrapped around the outside until we reached a bloodred door. The room itself was smaller than I expected it to be, stuffed to the gills with books and trinkets and skulls of animals I didn’t recognize. I could make out a large ornate desk on the other side near a block of windows, the top littered with sage and rosemary and thyme, all of which added to the heavy stagnant perfume that hung around us. There was a stone fireplace, the charred remains of something inside, blackened and cracked.
Vadoma sat across from me in a high-back purple chair. Strings of beads hung off the sides, her feet barely scraping the floor. Her hair was pulled back in a brightly colored scarf. The dress she wore was made up of reds and greens and blues. She had a white shawl wrapped around her shoulders, the fringes of which lay on her arms and lap.