Pia Saves the Day (Elder Races #6.6)(28)

Once the buildings came into view, he banked and wheeled overhead, not suspiciously, as he had the day before, but in a more leisurely fashion, as he took a good look in the last light of day.

She glanced without much interest over the scene. They had flown over many times, just like this, as they talked about plans for renovations and the new buildings. Most of her attention remained on him, as she gauged his reaction to the things he saw.

Which was why she noticed the small hitch in the rhythm of his flight.

He said, curiously, “We never talked about that building.”

She looked down again at the focus of his attention.

It was the house of the estate manager, some distance away from the construction site, along the curve of the lake.

A pang struck. Although she wouldn’t trade her memories away for anything, it was hard to remember their time together all by herself.

She told him, “It’s the estate manager’s house. His name is Mitchell. He used to live here full-time when the main house was empty, but he’s taking a vacation right now, as we figure out how to restructure his job.”

Dragos folded his wings and descended. Even though she knew he would never drop her, the abrupt change in altitude made her clutch at one of his talons.

Landing on the shore of the lake in front of the house, he set her down and shapeshifted. He wore a strained, listening expression.

Watching him, she said, “We spent our wedding night in that house.”

He whispered, “You gave birth there. In that room, with the big window, while we looked over the lake. We were all alone.”

Her breath stopped, and her heart began to race. “Yes.”

He turned on her, with the swiftness of fresh outrage. “You stole one of my pennies!”

She wasn’t sure what pure joy looked like.

But she knew what it felt like, shining out of her own face.

Chapter Ten

While his first breakthrough was nothing short of miraculous, his recovery was not quite so simple or easy.

They took two more days together, partly so that he could gain some control over the volatility of his mating urges, and partly to see if he might regain more of his memories before they began to deal with the outside world again.

After hours of patiently talking between long bouts of lovemaking, he recalled most of their time together. A few odd bits and pieces still remained missing, but he lost the sense of competing with the other Dragos, especially when he recalled the intensity of mating with her the first time.

She was right. She was in his bones. One morning, as they lay exhausted and entwined, he whispered into her hair, “I’ll always mate with you.”

He could hear the smile in her voice as she whispered back, “I believe you.”

Pia managed to convince him that he should have at least one consultation with Dr. Kathryn Shaw, the Wyr surgeon who often treated sentinels when they were injured. Because of that, the doctor was privy to certain confidences.

Although he finally agreed, Dragos was reluctant to do even that. Secretive by nature, it went against a very strong instinct in him to reveal to anyone the fact that his memory still remained impaired.

The morning of the consultation, Graydon brought Kathryn to the house. She was another avian Wyr, a falcon, and they flew in to land in the clearing, shapeshifted into their human forms and stood talking together for a few minutes before walking up to the front door.

They were the first people to return to the estate. Their arrival had been carefully choreographed, with nothing left to chance, so that Dragos could observe both of them from a distance.

When he laid eyes on Graydon’s brawny figure, Dragos said immediately, “Of course, I know him. He is a good friend of mine—one of my best friends—and we’ve worked together for centuries.”

Pia’s expression lit up all over again. “You absolutely have.”

When Dragos switched his attention to Kathryn, his frustration returned.

Like most Wyr falcons, the doctor had a nervy, slender form. Her large, honey brown eyes were sharp with intelligence, and she had thick chestnut hair, which she wore pinned away from her narrow face with a plain tortoiseshell barrette.

At Pia’s inquiring glance, he said, “I’m supposed to know her too.”

She responded as though he had actually asked a question. “Yes. She’s part of our extended inner circle, and she’s one of the few people who knows what my Wyr form is. Between her surgery skills and my healing ability, we managed to save Aryal’s wings after she’d been badly hurt earlier this year.”

Aryal was one of his sentinels, the contentious one. He and Pia had gone over everything she knew about the sentinels the night before.

His mouth tightened. “I’ve got nothing.”

“That’s okay.” Pia laid a hand on his arm, and he calmed. He always calmed when she touched him. “Will you still let her examine you? Please?”

If the doctor knew about Pia’s Wyr form, Dragos could deal with her knowing about him too. “Yes.”

She leaned out the front door and waved her arm in invitation, and Graydon and Kathryn approached.

As they drew close, they slowed. At their uncertain expressions, Dragos said to the doctor, “Not you.” He looked into Graydon’s familiar gray eyes and smiled. “Yes, you.”

A broad, relieved grin broke over Graydon’s rugged features. As the other man stepped forward, Dragos pulled him into a quick, hard hug.