“Hold on,” he snapped, getting out of bed and wrapping a fur around his waist. He snatched the door open, ready to order her back to her own bed when he saw tears streaming down her face. “Gods, Shalin. What is it?”
She grabbed his hand. “I think he’s dying!” Then she dragged Ailean toward her room. Once she got him inside, she dragged him around her bed where her puppy was hunched over.
“Do something!” she demanded, her panic tugging at his heart.
Ailean crouched next to the pup and said, “Well, luv, there’s not much we can do.”
Shalin looked at him with something close to abject horror. “You’re just going to let him die?”
“No. I’m going to let him bring back up whatever he’s been eating.”
And that’s what the little bastard did.
They both moved back, disgusted.
“Oh, that’s vile!” Shalin gasped, covering her nose and mouth.
“That it is.” Ailean glanced around until he found a few rags piled in a corner. He grabbed them and quickly cleaned up the mess while the puppy whined softly and crawled into Shalin’s lap.
“He’s still sick.”
“His stomach ails him, is all.” He took the rags out into the hall and dumped them where the servants could find them in the morning. When he came back in, closing the door behind him, he found Shalin staring down at the pup like she feared he might gasp his last breath at any moment. “Shalin, he’ll be fine. You just have to watch what he eats.”
Ailean washed his hands in the wash bowl before walking back to her side.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he asked her, sitting beside her on the bed.
“What if he dies while I sleep? I’ll never forgive myself.”
It took all Ailean’s strength not to roll his eyes. He knew she meant every word. “He won’t die while you sleep, Shalin. He merely ate something that didn’t sit well with him. You’ve no need to fret so.”
“He’s mine. My responsibility. I’ll sit with him until he’s better.”
“No. You’ll get some sleep.” Ailean took the pup from her lap. “I’ll stay up with him so you can rest.”
“That isn’t fair.” She smiled and stood, taking back the puppy. “We’ll stay up together.”
“Uh…”
But he didn’t have much choice, since she crawled into the center of the bed and sat down, her legs crossed so her ailing puppy could rest right in the middle. She patted the space across from her and Ailean reluctantly moved there, desperately clutching the fur covering against him.
They sat silently for several minutes, until Shalin said, “I enjoyed dinner tonight.”
“Good. You, uh, blended in quite nicely.”
“Did I?”
“Aye. They all like you. Oh, and I got word from the ones protecting your father. He’s fine and safe.”
Shalin briefly closed her eyes. “Thank you. I worry about him so.”
“Why? I’ve never met him, but I’ve always heard he’s well-respected.”
“He is. Very well-respected, especially among our scholars. But, he can be a little…a little…” She suddenly smiled. The softest, warmest smile Ailean had ever seen. “He can be a bit befuddled at times.”
“Is that why he’s not an Elder?”
“He and the Elders don’t see eye to eye on much. He never understands why anyone has disputes if they’re not related to something scholarly. He’ll argue for hours over some tiny historical fact or another, trying to prove his point, but he won’t fight for his territory. And without much prompting he’ll just give you his gold. He doesn’t understand why our people can be, as he likes to put it, ‘so bloody violent all the time.’ Eventually even he had to admit that being an Elder was not for him.”
Ailean began to relax, realizing he wouldn’t leave her this night. She seemed to need him, although her puppy was just fine. Besides, he enjoyed her company more than he could say. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“I’ve heard it told you intend to be an Elder one day.”
“Intend and will are two different things. I’ve a far way to go before I hope even to be considered.”
“But it’s not what you want, is it?”
And the way her entire body jerked at his question, causing her puppy to whine in annoyance before snuggling back to sleep, he knew he was right.
“Why would you ever think that?”
“Because I see no excitement in your eyes when you talk about it.”
Excitement? In her eyes? Was that even physically possible? “What?”
With a yawn, Ailean leaned back on the bed and Shalin felt a little guilty for not letting him go back to his room. But between her sick puppy and the fact she liked having Ailean around—especially when all he had on was that fur covering around his hips, giving her a delicious view of that chest—she had no intention of sending him away.
Could she do it, she wondered. Could she lure Ailean to her bed? True, she had him in her bed, but could she make him want her? Even she had to admit she’d never been known for her seduction tactics. And she couldn’t bring up the courage to simply pounce.
“When you talk about a library or being alone, your eyes light up. Or when you were telling that story to everyone downstairs. There was excitement in your face and your voice that wasn’t quite there when you discussed becoming an Elder one day. Looked more like you were going to the gallows.”
“That’s not true. I…I’m just tired. I’m not very enthusiastic about anything when I’m tired.”
Although Ailean was a bit correct. The thought of becoming an Elder almost made her queasy. All the politics. All the centaur shit. She’d rather bury herself in a library than face that life on a daily basis. But she’d promised.
Because she didn’t want to think of it any more, Shalin asked, “And what about your father?”
Ailean stared at her while he put one arm behind his head and Shalin immediately became fascinated with the way his muscles bulged from the action. Gods, he makes a beautiful human. “You know my father, Shalin.”
“I know of your father. Can’t say as I met him. Afton the Hermit.”
“He’s had other names. In the past.”
If a dragon lived past his first hundred winters, he or she would start to gather many names over time. It was nothing to be ashamed of, yet Ailean appeared…troubled. “Like?” she prompted.
“Afton the Cruel. Afton the Murderer.”
“Oh.” Shalin pushed her hair behind her ear and she briefly noticed Ailean’s eyes followed her hand while she did it. “Your father is that Afton? I always thought the Hermit and the…uh…Cruel were two different dragons.”
“No. Just one.” Ailean’s gaze moved to the ceiling. “He wasn’t always like that, you know. He didn’t earn either of those names until after my mother died.”
Now, that she understood. More than most, she was sure. “My father was lost after my mother died. Inconsolable for a while, and completely lost. She was equally brilliant, you see, and understood him so well, but much less befuddled. She kept everything organized and logical. Now when I go to visit, I find him under desks, behind desks, searching through piles of gold that turn out to be