dragon story the third

[maderr]

Made To Be Broken

“The kits look like they’re doing well.”

Ricky yawned. “Better than I could have hoped, all things considered. This is the first time any of us have left the house since we took them in. I’m glad they’re doing well, especially with Tori’s bunch.”

Dri looked out over the porch, to the beach where a young man, four dragons, and a dark gray werewolf played in the surf. He shook his head. “A wolf. Leave it to Tori to add a wolf to his brood.”

A soft chuckle came from behind him, followed by the sound of glass clinking as Tori set three longnecks of a dark, foreign beer on the sea-foam colored glass table top. “What can I say? He fits right in.”

Picking up a bottle opener, Dri opened the beers and dispersed two to his brothers. Both he and Tori had their mother’s dark brown hair, Ricky had their father’s black. Tori had their mother’s strange rust-brown eyes that often looked more red than brown. He and Ricky shared the green eyes that ran so strong in their father’s side of the family. All of them were tall, though Dri was the tallest at six one. Ricky had more muscle, Tori was probably the prettiest.

“What would mom say if she knew you were trying to build a harem?” Dri teased.

Tori snorted. “Hell, at least she’d be speaking to one of us again.” The three brothers shared a grimace.

Ricky sipped his beer and looked at the group romping on the beach, laughing as a dragon with scales that looked like ice tackled one of the steel-colored.

“The frost dragon is beautiful, Ricky,” Dri said. “Truly. I’m glad you and Cal were able to save him.” At his feet, another dragon rumbled in a lazy purr-growl. He rubbed the top of his dragon’s head with his bare foot. “Not as beautiful as you and you know it, Lin.” Teeth nipped lightly at his toes, and Dri smiled fondly at his dragon. Practically from the moment he was born, Dri had been told he was destined to lead the Clan someday. It had seemed only fitting to a young boy that if he were going to be the next ‘Arthur’ then his dragon of course should be equally grand and suitably named – ‘Merlin’ had seemed perfect at the time. Not long after they’d simply stuck with ‘Lin.’

Tori snickered. “Who would have thought that of all of us, the big, tough motorcycle bad boy would be the one to wind up with kids?”

“Oh, shut up,” Ricky said with a roll of his eyes, cheeks heating slightly.

“Ken is doing alright?” Dri asked. “He seemed fine to me, but it can be hard to tell…”

Ricky shifted his gaze back to the water, where the frost was now pouncing the young man, sending him crashing into the water with a shout of laughter. “I think so. It’s gotta count for a whole hell of a lot that he’s down there playing with a bunch of dragons and a werewolf.”

Dri snorted. “If I were him, I’d be less intimidated by the animals than the three of us.”

“Nah. Kid’s got guts – would have to, yeah?” He smiled fondly at Ken and Nevada, the frost dragon.

“Aw, Daddy Ricky is cute,” Tori said with a chuckle.

“Shut the hell up.”

Dri laughed softly and took a long pull of his beer. “Has the kit fixated on anything yet? Besides Ken, obviously.”

Ricky groaned. “Caramel. Apparently he’s always been a fan. It’s only gotten worse now.”

Tori started laughing so hard he had to put his beer down. “Caramel. Which goes so well with chocolate.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up? We don’t all want orgies, you pervert.” Ricky took a swing at his brother, knocking him lightly upside the head. “Behave.”

“Never.”

“Speaking of behaving,” Ricky said, sobering. “I never heard back from the Clan. I’d wanted to take Ken and Nev there, to teach them a little bit more about real dragons…I don’t suppose anyone has spoken to either of you?”

Tori shook his head. “No.”

“I never hear anything except through Oliver,” Dri said. “Haven’t spoken to him in weeks.”

Ricky and Tori shared a look that made Dri frown. “That would certainly explain why he’s been an ass lately.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Dri asked, setting his beer down with a clink.

Tori rolled his eyes. “Oh, whatever. You’re not fooling us.”

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” Dri snapped.

“Oliver’s been in a bad mood for weeks. I mean, the guy is cool as hell so far as lawyers go, and he’s remarkably nice to us terrible and horrid deserters – but he’s positively chipper where you’re concerned.”

Dri stared at them in absolute confusion. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You really didn’t notice?” Ricky asked. “Dri, with us he talks business, business, and more business. Every now and then the weather, even less often the Clan. When you go to visit him, you guys talk and talk and talk. We can always tell when you’ve been to see Oliver because he’s all smiles for days after. Even the office has noticed you brighten things up.”

“That’s stupid. You’re both insane.”

Tori snorted but otherwise said nothing.

Ricky snickered. “Bro, Oliver likes you. How much exactly, we couldn’t say, but Mr. Cool Cucumber Lawyer becomes Mr. Sunshine when you’re around.”

“Yeah,” Tori chipped in. “Call him up if you don’t believe us. Schedule an appointment. I bet that whole, hassled office will send you a bouquet of flowers in thanks.”

“Insanity,” Dri said. “You’re both fucking nuts.” Oliver. Liked him. Ha! Oliver was…Oliver. Good looking, sure. He was slender, boney, a look that worked for him, especially in the suits he wore like a second skin. Sharp and clever as a fox. Pale blonde hair and piercing gray eyes. Definitely a pleasure for the eyes, but Dri had only ever noticed in a distant way. It was suddenly bizarre to think of Oliver as something other than his lawyer. “There’s no way Oliver likes me. We just get along, that’s all.”

Both his brothers rolled their eyes.

At his feet, Lin slowly stood up, then shifted to sit on the arm of Dri’s chair. He slid an arm around Dri’s shoulders. His hair was dark blonde, and like Dri’s it was close-cropped, a few feather strands brushing across his forehead, into his eyes. Like all dragons, his eyes were pale amber. He ducked his head to nuzzle Dri’s hair, free hand stroking his cheek. “Oliver? The lawyer…you always come back smelling like mint and silk.”

“That’s Oliver all right,” Tori said with a grin.

“His cologne has mint in it,” Dri said absently. “He loves silk.” He shook his head. “I cannot believe for two seconds that Oliver likes me.”

Tori snorted. “Call him, arrange to see him, I guarantee his mood will immediately improve.”

“I have no reason to make an appointment.”

Ricky frowned in thought. “Maybe you and Oliver can get the kits into the Clan. I really think it would do them good, but no one will talk to me.”

“That’s what you get for playing in the Pits,” Dri said with a grimace. “In perfect keeping with the Clan, they overlook your saving the kits.”

“Good ol’ Clan,” Tori said dryly. “I’m getting more beer. Anything else?”

Lin dipped his head again to nibble on Dri’s ear. “Snack time.”

Dri turned his head to steal a soft kiss. “Is it? I’m not so certain.”

Growling at the tease, Lin nipped Dri’s bottom lip before kissing him hard. “Snack time.”

Ricky laughed. “Yes, but what sort of snack are you after?”

“Honey,” Lin answered. “I’m saving Dri for later.” He turned to look at the group still wreaking havoc on the beach. “When the kit is gone. Smelling lust would not be good.” His amber eyes warmed with amusement. “Ken might get a little overwhelmed.” Around the table the men chuckled. “Dri still has scars from the first time,” he said with a soft smirk.

Tori laughed loudly as he returned with more beer and a small plate on which rested a large pastry smothered with honey and nuts. “Don’t let the others see or we’ll be stampeded with demands for treats.”

“They’ll get theirs later,” Lin declared, slowly licking honey from one finger before he started devouring the bun itself.

Dri wrapped an arm around Lin’s waist and leaned up to lick honey from his lips. “Mmm, dragon and honey.”

Lin’s eyes nearly glowed. “Honey and Dri is better. However, now I wonder what Dri would taste like with mint and silk.”

“What?” Dri blinked. “Are we back on Oliver already? You’re all insane. Why do you want to know more about Oliver?”

Another soft kiss was placed on his mouth, tasting of honey and sweet pastry. “Dri smells good with mint and silk on him.”

Tori chuckled. “Oh, looks like I might not be the only deviant in the family.”

“Enough,” Dri said firmly. “Lin, we’ll discuss this later.”

“Yes, Dri.”

Dri hugged him briefly, then gently shoved the dragon off and up. “Go fetch the troublemakers. They need to eat and rest before they tire the ocean out.”

Tori and Ricky smiled smugly as Lin vanished. Ricky opened the new beers and passed them out, grinning like a pleased cat as he handed one to Dri. “So – going to make that appointment?”

“Shut the hell up,” Dri muttered, looking out over the water and pointedly ignoring his brothers. Who had clearly lost their minds. There was no way Oliver liked him. He would have noticed.

*~*~*~*

Oliver’s fingers twitched on the back railing of the elevator. He resisted the urge to fidget with his tie. It was too much. Stupid. He never should have accepted it for his fifteen year anniversary with the firm. Especially not from giggling office women. Damn it. This one made him look like he was trying too hard.

Not that it really mattered. He could walk naked into Dri’s bedroom with a gilded invitation and the man still wouldn’t catch on. Not that it really mattered, anyway. Dri had Lin. That was the end of it. Damn it, he was too busy today to do this. At least Dri was coming to see him, if only for a couple of hours of business.

Which was why he’d debated all morning over what to wear, like some idiot high school girl, and he definitely should not have warn this tie! Too late now. Maybe the girls would grant him some measure of dignity. He didn’t know how they knew, he’d never said a damn word or acted that different when Dri was around, but somehow they knew. Girls always knew. Damned women.

Though he’d take the girls over the newest man to join the firm that seemed to think Oliver’s drawing a breath was an invitation to hit on him. Ugh. He’d managed to block out that little problem under the rush of knowing he’d be seeing Dri soon. Damn it.

The elevator chimed, sounding like a death knell. He should not have worn this tie. It would accomplish nothing but grief.

On the bright side, he finally had a competent secretary. Ginger was everything the last six hadn’t been. Meaning he didn’t walk into chaos anymore. No, today he only had to deal with the damned tie. He should have worn the blue one.

He stepped into the office and Ginger absently greeted him, her eyes on the screen as she spoke to a client, scheduling an appointment.

“Good morning,” Oliver murmured, breathing a sigh of relief and quickly striding past her desk toward his own office.

“You’re wearing it!”

Cursing, Oliver ground to a halt and conceded defeat. He smiled at the woman who’d run the mailroom for the past ten years. “Elise, good morning.”

As if sensing a suffering man, women from all over the firm began to appear, clustering around like hens – or hyenas moving in for the kill. Oliver calculated how much of his dignity would be lost if he bolted for his office. It was just a tie.

“You look so good, so sharp, we knew you would.” Eyes glittered with amusement. With knowledge. “Especially with that suit, sir.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Eli, in fifteen years you haven’t once called me sir. Don’t be a smartass. Would you hens get away from me? I have work to do.” He fought a smile, knowing that would just encourage them.

“Yes, you’re quite busy today, sir,” Ginger said, joining the other women as they whispered and laughed. She was way too smug and knowing for a woman who’d been working for eight weeks. “Your ten o’clock moved the appointment up to nine. I’ve got the coffee brewing and called the bakery.” Her eyes sparkled. “I put you in the back conference room, since Mr. Walter will need room one for his meeting with the Phillips group. Is there anything else you require sir?”

Oliver sighed in defeat. “How about a new staff?”

Ginger laughed tolerantly and reached out to adjust and smooth his tie. “Now what would you do with a staff that behaved? The tie is beautiful, it matches your eyes exactly.” She winked. “If I were a certain client, I’d jump you. Maybe find new uses for the tie.”

“Inappropriate for the office!” Oliver turned and bolted down the hallway as quickly as the shreds of his dignity would permit, chased by affectionate laughter.

So many clients complimented his cool aplomb, his perfect professionalism. Thank god they never saw him being harassed by the office women. Setting down his laptop bag, Oliver pulled his cell phone from the side pocket and set it down beside the files and ledgers Ginger had brought to the small conference room. Strolling to the sidebar, he poured a cup of coffee and moved to the wide picture window that looked out over the east side of downtown. Overcast day, but the sun was fighting. By afternoon maybe it would finally beat out the gloom.

Why had Dri moved his appointment up an hour? Was something wrong? No, Dri would have called him directly.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Oliver topped off his coffee and sat down to begin reviewing all they’d be discussing – he knew it all by heart, but a review never hurt. Dri wanted to work on moving things around to adjust for the kit Ricky had taken in.

Ignoring the pang in his chest that always sprang up when he thought of dragons, Oliver forced himself not to muss his hair, to pull out his reading glasses even though he hated them, and not to take his stupid tie off.

A perfunctory – smartass – knock at the door broke into his thoughts and Ginger appeared in the doorway. “Sir, your nine o’clock is here and I’ve brought the pastries.”

“Thank you, Ginger.” He shot her a quick glare as she set a tray of pastries on the side bar.

“My pleasure, sir. Mr. Cross, a pleasure to see you again.” With a smile, Ginger closed the door behind her.

“Dri,” Oliver said, striving to keep just how happy he was to see Dri again from his voice. The man was too independent; why couldn’t he be like the other clients who called him every day and demanded appointments at least every other? “It’s good to see you again. I was starting to think you’d found someone better than me.”

Dri grinned and poured a cup of coffee, then slid into the seat next to him. Unusual – Dri usually sat opposite. Not that he would complain, the man smelled and looked wonderful. Of course, the entire Cross family looked good – the blood of kings and all that. Still, Dri had dark brown hair and green eyes, body built by swimming in his backyard ocean – and living with a steel dragon. He smelled like the sea, a touch of sandalwood. “Hardly, Oliver. You know damn well you’re the best there is. Though if it were true, I’d think you’d relish being free of one Cross. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, fine. Busy but can’t really complain.” Well, he could. About a lot of things. That he wasn’t thinking about. “How are you and Lin?”

“Lin is as beautiful and spoiled as always – though not as spoiled as a couple of twins I could name.” Dri winked. Honestly, the best part of Dri was how much he loved the two brothers who had joined him in rebellion. Hell, Dri still loved the family that didn’t talk to him. That smile as he rambled about his dragon for a bit, though…it made Oliver ache for things he’d never have.

Dri, for one. To for once in his life see and touch a dragon. Both together… He may as well ask for his sanity back.

“Have you decided how to renovate your house yet?”

“Not really,” Dri said with a shrug and sheepish smile. “Haven’t decided what to do with it. Not like I need more empty room, and Lin certainly doesn’t. He’d just try to move a piece of the ocean inside.”

Oliver laughed. “Or put in a bigger hot tub.”

“A sauna,” Dri replied, rolling his eyes. “He’s latched onto Cal’s lust for a sauna.”

“I see.” Oliver chuckled and refilled bother their coffees. Black, a rich, dark French roast that was both their favorites. It was what had first relaxed things on their first meeting – him expecting another stiff and proper Cross, Dri clearly expecting a lawyer who acted like all the Clan. Dri had accepted the coffee automatically, and been pleasantly surprised. Oliver had been surprised, since most Cross eschewed any sort of drug. One commonality had spilled into another. Oliver wasn’t certain he was allowed to call Dri a friend, but the man was the closest he had. A near-workaholic lawyer all but chained to the Clan didn’t have friends. Not when he couldn’t go anywhere near a dragon for fear of death.

An old pain. Oliver shoved it aside with practiced ease and locked it up. “An entire ocean, a hot tub, and a custom shower aren’t enough for the shiny lizard?” Never mind Lin had Dri. “You Owners do spoil them so.” He winked.

Dri chuckled. “I suppose we do. It’s hard not to, really. But I didn’t come here to make you listen to me ramble about Lin. I’m sure you’ve got far better things to do with your time.”

“Oh, yes. I would far rather help Lisbon work out his will for the millionth time. Please, do hurry and stop talking about your dragon so I can go reassign who gets the pearl and the Tupperware.”

The coffee cup hit with a bang on the table as Dri set it down before he spilled, laughing loud enough to fill the room. “Now, now, Oliver. I think that’s one of those things you’re not supposed to tell me.”

Oliver shrugged, smiling briefly. “I didn’t say a word. Come on, let’s get your work out of the way so you can enjoy those pastries Ginger bought for you.”

“I know very well the orange Danish is all yours,” Dri said with a wink. He picked his coffee up. “Well, you know what I want to do better than me. What do you suggest?”

Biting back the urge to tell Dri that he wanted to tell Oliver he looked perfectly molestable, Oliver opened the ledgers in front of him and slid into Business Mode. They argued lightly back and forth, hammering out details, moving money, checking properties. Working with Dri was a genuine pleasure; he knew what he was about, but knew Oliver wasn’t stupid. He could do this all day.

So of course he heard an all too familiar rap on the door. Against his will his shoulders tensed. He could feel the throbbing beginnings of a headache as the door swung open and his latest and greatest problem strode in as though he owned the place.

William Bell was the living definition of city slick, smooth and glassy and positively shiny. Perfect cut to his dark brown hair, those blue eyes had to be contacts, and he didn’t doubt the man got every little bit and piece waxed every two days. Yech.

“Oliver,” William said. Even his voice was slick. “There you are. I told that silly chit you’ve hired we were supposed to get together at ten thirty.”

“What for?” Oliver said, voice going chilly. “We finished the business with the Nelsons. There’s nothing else to discuss.”

William didn’t immediately reply, his gaze on Dri. “Who are you?”

That was it. William could be obnoxious and rude and come damned close to sexual harassment with him, but he would not tolerate rudeness to Dri. Or any client. “This Rhodri Cross, one of my most esteemed clients.” And the man I’m in love with, so back the fuck off or I will show you how nasty lawyers can really be.

“Ah, I’ve heard much about the notorious Cross family,” William replied, sliding into superslick mode as he scrambled to undo what damage he’d done. “I did not mean to interrupt. Perhaps my eagerness got away with me.”

Eagerness. That didn’t sound good. “What did you need, William?”

“Why, to make reservations. You never told me what time we’re going to dinner.”

Oliver’s mouth went dry. Fucking bastard. He knew Oliver wouldn’t make a scene by refusing dinner with a client in the room – especially such an important one. Damn it, he’d already told the man no. Five times. This month. Fucking hell, why didn’t William just give up and find someone else? Oliver wished he could just shove the man out a window or at least report him or something – but that never ended well and he didn’t know what else to do short of turning things ugly and just…no. He didn’t want a goddamn mess. All he had to do was hold out ‘til William finally got bored – or he finally did lose patience and punch the bastard.

Damn it, he couldn’t do this. Not in a million years did he want Dri thinking he’d go out to dinner with William. “I don’t think I ever said we were going to dinner.”

William quickly hid his surprise. “That little Italian place you were raving about. Just name a time. I was thinking tonight.”

“That isn’t possible,” Dri cut in. “He’s having dinner with me tonight. At my place.” Oliver barely kept himself from turning and staring – or from jumping straight up into the ceiling when a heavy arm settled across the back of his chair. “Now if you’ll excuse us, Mr. Bell, we were busy.”

“Of course,” William said, eyes widening ever so slightly as he stared at Dri. Then he turned and beat a hasty retreat.

Oliver blinked. Finally made himself turn to Dri. “You—didn’t have to do that. I would have dealt with him later.”

Dri grinned – but it was the sort of smile that was more a baring of teeth. “Call it habit. Anyway, I was going to suggest you come for dinner sometime anyway. What friends do, yeah? At the very least you can finally meet Lin, lord knows I torture you enough talking about him.”

Pain ripped through him. No, no that would be bad. But it was all he’d ever wanted… Christ, it hurt to breathe. Meeting Lin, having dinner with Dri…it wouldn’t play out well. Hell, he’d be lucky if after meeting Lin he would last more than five seconds before they killed him or ordered him off their property. Ah, well. It had been bound to end someday. At least this way, he could sort of go out the way he wanted. “Should I bring alcohol?”

“Bring some of that brandy you’re always going on about,” Dri said with a wink. “I’ll let you make the rest of the decisions here, hmm? Looks like I have dinner to prepare.” He paused at the door. “I like your tie by the way. You’re always a sharp dresser, Oliver, but that gray…it brings out both shades in your eyes. The light and the dark ring right around your pupils. Dinner is casual, jeans, t-shirt. House rules are sandals, flip flops, or bare feet. We never dress up, not with sand and water and dragon everywhere.” He winked as he left.

The door closed with a muted click. Oliver sat there blinking, feeling sort of lost and confused. Happy and utterly miserable. Only he would manage to come so close to what he’d always wanted on the condition that he immediately lose everything.




Deep breaths. Oliver swore he had to remind himself to breathe period. Thank god he’d given up eating; if his stomach wasn’t completely empty already he’d lose the contents of it all over his black leather interior. The sports car wasn’t the best vehicle for a trip to the beach, but he hadn’t felt like going to get the jeep out of storage for one little trip.

He ran over everything as he turned off the highway and onto the winding roads that would eventually lead to Dri’s remote beach house. Another reason he and Dri had almost immediately gotten along. Ricky, Tori and their dragons were like most of the Clan in that they preferred mountains or remote forests. Dri and Lin preferred the beach. Sunshine, sand, and enough money to ensure they didn’t have to put up with tourists and the like. Oliver had only seen it once; when he’d first scouted areas that he thought Dri would like. He’d been sorely disappointed to have to refuse going to the small housewarming dinner Dri had arranged.

Everything was ready. After it all went to hell here, he could retreat to his own little cabin – a few miles from a resort up in the mountains to the east. About a two day trip, a little less if he hurried as he intended. Stay there until he could finish his plans to start a new life somewhere else. Overseas. Away from anyone that could possibly know him. A life that didn’t involve the dragons and Clan that would hate him the moment they realized what he was.

The flip flops felt strange on his feet. It was a well used pair, but not worn in a while. Not since he’d gotten too big and busy in the firm to have time for trips to the boardwalk every weekend or so. He wore an old, pale blue t-shirt and his favorite pair of jeans – butter soft, worn to the point they were threadbare but fit perfectly, so comfortably he never wanted to take them off. Brown flip flops, and he’d even lost the office prissiness to his hair. Stupid white-blonde hair that belonged on a little kid, not a man pushing forty.

Now he was just being dumb. Trying to distract himself from the fact that his world was about to fall apart because he hadn’t been smart enough to make up some excuse about why he couldn’t go to dinner.

All because Dri had noticed his tie…his eyes. Did that mean anything? Had Dri been….well, it didn’t matter. Whatever Dri might suddenly think or feel, it was about to change.

With a stomach full of knots and butterflies and a heart that felt as though it was weighted with lead, Oliver made the last turn and drove down the long road that spilled into a wide driveway. Dri’s SUV and Jeep were there, and he pulled up alongside the Jeep. Here we go then.

His fingers refused to unclench from the steering wheel. Movement caught his eye and he could only stare – thank god his sunglasses were mirrored – as Dri and Lin came around the back of house.

Dri was dressed in faded jeans and an old short-sleeved button down that was half-unbuttoned. The clothes sort of clung a bit and his brown hair was damp, sticking to his head. He’d either just gotten out of the shower or had recently been for a swim. Either way, holy hell the man looked good damp. Beside him Lin looked just as edible, his dark gold hair plastered to his head, amber eyes near glowing even from a distance. He wore jeans as well, old stone washed denim, but nothing else. Oliver had to remind himself about what was about to happen.

Finally unclenching his fingers, Oliver drew a last deep breath, dredged up a smile, and climbed out of his car.

Those amber eyes immediately widened, Lin’s nostrils flaring. A low growl cut through Dri’s enthusiastic greeting. “Mordred.”

Dri froze, body rippling in surprise as Lin’s words registered. He turned to his dragon. “What?”

Lin stepped forward, hovering protectively, tensing as if to spring. “You’re a Mordred.”

Oliver smiled sadly. “Not by choice. I never wanted to be.” Thank god the sunglasses hid the real proof of his hated lineage. The bloodline he’d worked so hard to hide from the world, from the Clan. Far too many close calls in his life. Now it was over. Some part of him felt relieved that the hiding and the fear were finally over. Most of him, however, was merely breaking into little pieces.

“Y-you’re a Mordred?” Dri asked. “How…how did no one ever know?”

“I’m a lawyer. I can uncover a secret, or bury it.”

Anger, hurt, and confusion flickered across Dri’s face. “So this whole time…what were you planning to do?” He laughed bitterly. “Deception does come naturally to the blood, doesn’t it?”

Pain lanced through Oliver, to hear such cruel words from the man he loved. He deserved them, sure, but that didn’t keep them from cutting deep. Somehow, he’d been stupid enough to hope Dri might at least hear him out. After all, here was the man who by all rights should have been the next head of the Clan. He’d given it up because he didn’t believe himself to be anything like his family. He was a rebel.

Not enough of one, it seemed, to give up his hatred of the bloodline which had so long ago betrayed the Clan. The ones responsible for all the elemental dragons filling the Pits. They who had given the secret of dragons to the rest of the paranormal world.

Somehow, he’d thought Dri would understand.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said. The words came heavily, his mouth so dry it was hard to speak. “I…you have no idea how sorry I am. I’ll go.” With that, he climbed back into his car and turned it back on. Seconds later he was speeding along the winding streets, roaring away from the beach and toward the mountains. Angrily he threw his sunglasses aside, and stared into the rear view mirror as he pulled back onto the highway.

His eyes, usually pale gray, were so dark that to most they appeared to be pitch black. It only ever happened when he was in abject pain or full of black rage. The mark of the Mordred, the betrayers of Arthur and his knight dragons.

Against his will, he kept checking behind him every few minutes, that small, stupid part of him hoping to see a familiar Jeep or SUV chasing after him. After two hours, he finally gave up.

In a few weeks, his new life would be in order. He wished he could find those words cheering.

*~*~*~*

Dri waited an entire day before he finally was able to pick up the phone and call someone. He finally decided on Ricky, who knew when to stop being a smartass.

“What’s up?” Ricky asked by way of greeting, never the type to waste time with pointless pleasantries.

“Oliver is a Mordred.” The words tumbled out of him, feeling strange and heavy. Even now, twenty-four hours later, he could not believe it.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “What?”

“He’s a Mordred. I invited him to dinner, and the minute he stepped out of his car Lin pegged him. I…” He couldn’t understand why Oliver had done it. Surely he’d known Lin would figure it out. Obviously he’d been hiding it for years. Why lose it all now? It made no sense.

“Interesting,” Ricky finally said. “Done a damned good job of hiding it. How the hell did he get that by the Clan?”

“Dunno,” Dri said.

Another pause. “So over the course of dinner you didn’t bother to ask him that little detail? What the hell did you do? Snark a bit and then go straight to the sex?”

Now it was Dri’s turn to be silent.

“…Dri? Bro, what exactly happened?”

Unhappily, emotions still a whirling confusion, Dri replayed the entire awful scene for his brother. He and Ricky were the closest in age outside the clan. He had a total of eight siblings. Ricky was third born, Tori sixth. Between him and Ricky was a sister, and then a sister and a brother between Ricky and Tori. After Tori were three more sisters.

“Dri, man…I love you, Bro, but you’re a fucking idiot. What in the hell did you act like that for?” Ricky sighed, a long and heavy sound. “Never mind. I know why. Lord fucking knows you had enough lies growing up. It’s made you tetchy. Still, man…”

“I know,” Dri said tightly. “I overreacted.” He’d acted stupidly. The whole reason he’d left the Clan was to get away from the severe traditions that guided the rest of them. The old-fashioned rigidity and tired notions. Obviously he’d failed to truly escape, if he’d treated Oliver like a criminal just because he happened to be a Mordred.

Lin was feeling no better, his scales having lost much of their shine to shame and depression.

After his brothers had left several days ago, Lin had surprised him by turning serious over what they’d said about Oliver. Lin, apparently, had always liked the traces of Oliver that followed Dri home. It was something Dri had never thought about; he and Lin had always been perfectly happy with just each other. In typical dragon form though, Lin had fixated on the idea that ‘mint and silk’ liked his Owner. He wanted to know more, and for himself.

Still Dri had not believed for a minute that Oliver actually had any interest in him. Until he’d gotten to the office, anyway, and started noticing little things he never had before. The way Olive smiled at him. How he’d unconsciously moved closer when Dri had sat next to him. They way he’d leaned closer still when William had entered the room.

Just how good that damned tie had looked. Pale gray with thin stripes of darker gray, lined with palest silver. It had brought out the fact that his eyes were not just gray – they were pale gray around the outside, but close to the pupil they were darker. He’d surprised himself by wondering if an attentive lover had at one time given Oliver the tie and feeling jealous.

Remarkable how quickly things could change, all because his brothers were smartasses.

He hadn’t liked that asshole Bell at all – neither had Oliver. Dri doubted anyone else would have noticed that Oliver paled the slightest bit when Bell had entered the room. He did though; he was an Owner, it was his duty as caretaker to notice the slightest details. Dragons showed much, but they could also hide things – or not properly notice. Like any wild animal who did not like to acknowledge weakness.

Stating that Oliver was coming over to his house – staking a claim, he’d realized later – had seemed as natural as breathing. Whatever was or wasn’t or could be between the three of them, no one else was allowed near Oliver until it was figured out.

So, in typical stupid fashion, he’d been mean and nasty upon realizing Oliver had been lying to him all these years. He was a Mordred. Most of the Clan would have immediately killed him; one of the oldest sworn duties of the Clan was to annihilate the betrayers.

Ricky was right. He’d left all that crap behind. All three of them had. Except somehow he’d not left all of it behind. Instead he’d been a complete and utter jerk – and then let Oliver leave.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he said into the phone.

“Definitely. Might be able to fix it though. Gimme a few, I’ve got a source that will find him. Assuming he’s gone to ground, which is what I’d do in his place. Call you back in a bit. Stay out of trouble.”

“Thanks, Ricky. Owe you.”

“Help me build the damned sauna before this lizard kills me with harassment.”

Dri laughed, feeling a million times less tense than he had in hours. “Sure thing.”

“Call you back later.”

“Bye.”

Feet padded softly on the wooden floor behind him, and Dri turned to bundle Lin close as the dragon reached him. He smelled of salt and honey, with an edge that only dragons could have.”

“We’ll find Oliver?” Lin asked softly, the words muffled against Dri’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Dri said, stroking Lin’s hair and skin. “Ricky will find him, and we’ll fix the mess we made, huh?”

“I…I should have said he smelled good instead. I was surprised. Bad Lin…”

Dri held him more tightly, pressing kisses to whatever soft skin he could reach. “No, Lin. The fault was mine.” He would be cringing a long, long time over his own words. If he could, he’d kick his own ass. Oliver had deserved more of a chance than Dri had given him. He tilted Lin’s head up and kissed him softly. “Good Lin, always.”

Pressing closer, all but crawling into his skin, Lin pressed a harder kiss, arms tight around Dri’s neck. “Good Dri, too. Good Oliver.”

“Yes,” Dri said softly. “Good Oliver.”



It had taken him, Ricky, and finally Tori – who needed his mouth sewn shut – three days to finally figure out where the hell Oliver had gone.

Dri really hoped there weren’t any cops around, because he’d likely not stop. He needed to find Oliver. Maybe he’d ruined whatever might have possibly been between them, but he couldn’t just leave Oliver thinking Dri hated him. He didn’t. Surprise had led to stupidity, but that was it.

Beside him, Lin shifted restlessly in the passenger seat. He seldom left his beach territory, and the dragon would not be able to relax completely until they’d fixed the problem with Oliver. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But it was past the point of recrimination. All he could do now was hope they’d really found Oliver and that he could still fix things.

He flooded with relief to see the small, unremarkable cabin that came into view as they drove over the last rise and the ground leveled out. Lights were on, but he could see no sign of movement.

Parking alongside Oliver’s dark blue sports car, Dri made himself walk calmly to the front door. Beside him, Lin had given over to nervousness and shifted to his dragon form. Dri pet the smooth scales with one hand while he knocked with the other.

No reply, but Lin rippled and crept forward, nosing at the door. He let out a low growl, a sound of worry and concern. Dri tried the door, which opened easily. Not a good sign. Pushing the door open, Dri let Lin precede him.

The cabin was one big room, with a kitchen in one corner and a door that was probably the bathroom. Everything else was right there, even the wide bed in the corner. A retreat, meant for one or two people who had no need of separate rooms. Something in Dri’s chest twisted and ached.

So strange, to feel this strongly about someone besides Lin. All because his brothers thought they were funny and oh so clever. He’d never in a million years tell the bastards maybe they were right.

He shouldn’t need or want Oliver though. He had Lin…yet Lin had been the one truly intrigued, eager to meet ‘mint and silk who loved Dri’. Now, instead of sipping wine or brandy while they watched Lin play in the surf and catch fish, he got to untangle the mound of blankets on the bed and find a bedraggled, miserable, unconscious Oliver.

The man looked awful. Unshaven, clothes wrinkled, reeking of sweat and alcohol.

Lin chirped and growled in anxiety, and Dri turned to see what had upset him – a glass of brandy…and a bottle of prescription sleeping pills. Heart stopping, even though he knew Oliver wasn’t that stupid and the man was still breathing, Dri twisted off the cap and let out a loud sigh of relief to see it was still mostly full.

“Is he all right?” Dri asked softly.

Chirping, Lin climbed smoothly onto the bed. It dipped and creaked beneath the dragon’s weight, but held. Gently Lin nuzzled and pet Oliver, scenting the man, fretting and petting him. At last he shifted, sitting with his back to the headboard and bundling Oliver close. “He’s fallen into a deep sleep, probably won’t wake for a day or two, but he’s all right.”

Dri nodded. Already he was beginning to feel better than he had in days. “Take him to the car. I’ll grab his things, clean up in here. If you can drive the SUV, I’ll drive his car.”

Lin grinned. “I get to drive?”

“Obey the speed limit, dragon,” Dri said, smiling back. “Do as I say and all that.”

Laughing, Lin leaned forward and kissed him, humming happily. Already the light was coming back to those amber eyes, and Dri bet Lin’s scales were already regaining their shine.

“Get a move on, dragon. We need to get home.”

“Yes, Dri.” Fumbling a moment to get a good grip, Lin stood effortlessly and carried Oliver to the door as though he weighed no more than a sack of feathers.

It took the better part of an hour to get everything in order, then one last check to make certain Lin and Oliver would be all right before he slid into Oliver’s sports car.

Ordinarily he’d spend ages admiring being inside the sleek and sexy sports car, but right now all he cared about was surviving the long trip home. At least they wouldn’t have to make too many stops – only one to catch some sleep, make certain Oliver was all right, then they’d be home where they all belonged.

*~*~*~*

Whoever had used his head as a chopping block was going to die. Oliver groaned as he sat up, wishing valiantly that he’d just fall over and die. What in the hell was wrong with his head? It felt like he’d been either drugged or drunk.

Or both, he realized as memory flooded. He’d felt like shit. Worse than. Sleep hadn’t wanted to come and he was sick of being conscious. He’d taken two sleeping pills instead of one and had washed them down with brandy. It was something he’d done before, though not often, when the hiding and the pressure and the stress got to be too much.

He always regretted it, but never enough to stop doing it.

With another groan he sat up and shoved the blankets aside. Frowned, because something was off. Blankets. His blankets were deep turquoise. Forget it. Water. Water would be good. To dunk his head in. To drown in. He fumbled briefly, one hand landing on the nightstand to steady him as he swung his legs over the bed. Next time, either he didn’t mix drugs with alcohol or he mixed them to the point he didn’t have to deal with waking up. Yes, that sounded like a plan.

And who the hell said the sun could come out? Oliver glared darkly at the open balcony and the ocean beyond it, then dropped his head into his hands with another groan.

Wait…

Ocean? Since when did his cabin have an ocean view?

Hands beginning to shake, Oliver forced his head up and slowly looked around the room he was in.

Hardwood floors in a warm gold tone. Massive king-sized bed in a similar wood, slightly lighter stain. Dark turquoise sheets and comforter. Sheer curtains of the same shade were tied back from the balcony, and there were deep brown throw rugs scattered about. A plush chair of the same turquoise was in the corner, a tall reading lamp behind it, a small table beside it.

Dresser, a door that was a closet, another that probably led to a bathroom. Heart pounding, Oliver tried to stand but found he couldn’t make himself move. Was he dreaming? There was no way he could be where he thought he was. How many goddamn pills had he taken this time? Maybe it was time to give them up for a bit and just deal with the insomnia.

Oliver buried his head in his hands again, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths until he either woke up or otherwise stopped dreaming.

A sound broke into his futile attempts to calm down…something that sounded far too much like claws clicking on hardwood. Oliver slowly looked up, and his eyes widened to see Lin walking towards him, eyes glowing a warm amber. His scales flashed in the sunlight spilling in from the balcony, looking more like they were made of silver than mere steel.

He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but couldn’t make the words come out. Then Lin reached him, rearing up and planting his front legs on Oliver’s shoulders, shoving him back down on the bed – and suddenly Oliver found himself covered by a man clothed in nothing but too-thin jeans, smelling of sweat and ocean. “You’re awake.”

“Uh—I’m not too sure about that,” Oliver said shakily, far too aware of the temptation so casually straddling him.

Lin dipped his head to nuzzle Oliver’s cheek, making a sound remarkably close to a purr. “Awake. Smell healthy. Feel better?”

“Um…yes? I could, uh, use some water?” And for the dragon to get off him before he did something really really stupid.

Except it was Lin who did something stupid first, brushing his lips softly across Oliver’s. It wouldn’t be surprising, except dragons only acted affectionately with those they considered theirs. They’d never act so with strangers…definitely not with a Mordred. So he was dreaming. Great. As soon as he woke up, he was severely overdosing.

More soft kisses were scattered across his face, and Oliver was helpless to resist though he tried to put up at least a token struggle.

Quiet laughter came from the doorway, and Oliver froze.

“Lin, stop attacking him,” Dri said. Oliver suddenly found it harder to breathe than ever, as Lin slowly pulled away and stood up. The dragon clung to Dri as he drew close, and Dri absently stroked the dragon’s back. “Though I can see why you did.”

Oliver blinked. Blinked again. “What?”

Releasing Lin, Dri bent and tugged Oliver up. He pressed the back of his hand to Oliver’s forehead. “Feeling any better? You’ve been asleep for three days. I’d imagine taking sleeping meds with brandy will do that.” The tone was slightly reproving. “You caught a slight fever, as well.”

“What in the hell?” Oliver demanded, and for the first time he realized he wasn’t in the clothes he vaguely remembered passing out in – he was in the jeans and t-shirt he’d worn the day everything had fallen apart. “Did I miss something?”

Dri’s hand fell away from his forehead – and curled around his hip instead. Too close. Dri was standing way too close. “Come eat, or at least drink.” Dri winked. “Water. No booze for you.”

Oliver winced. “I’ve only done that three or four times. Only way I can sleep sometimes. When everything…”

“I think we can find better ways to help you sleep,” Dri said with a wink. “Come eat. If we stay in here much longer, Lin will attack you again.”

“Mint and silk smells good in here. Fits,” Lin said, crowding up against Oliver and nuzzling again.

Oliver wondered if he was always going to have this new breathing problem. Dri’s hand slid from his hip with agonizing slowness. “Lin, don’t overwhelm him. Both of you come eat.”

“Yes, Dri,” Lin said, but nuzzled Oliver one last time before stepping a bit back and taking his hand, leading the way as they followed Dri out of the bedroom and down the stairs to a wide open dining room made up of the same warm gold woods, but decorated with true green rather than turquoise. Food was set out, and Oliver could see it was mid afternoon now.

He shook his head as he was bustled into a seat. “What’s going on here? How did I get…” A glass was pressed into his hands and he curled his fingers around it, enjoying the feel of the cold ice water against his too-hot skin. He was a lawyer. The scariest judges in twelve counties showed him respect. He was one of the youngest but most successful lawyers in the firm. He didn’t sit meekly at dining tables, especially when said table was the property of a man who now hated him. Dri’s parting words played through his head. “Are you trying to ascertain how much the lying and deceiving Mordred lawyer knows about the Clan? What precisely he’s planning to do with that knowledge?”

Dri winced. “I deserved that.”

Oliver said nothing. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want Dri being wonderful and Lin nuzzling him like it was only natural. A plate was set in front of him, but he barely noticed what was on it. “Why didn’t you just leave me the hell alone? I said I’d go. I went. There was no reason to bring me back.” His fingers tightened around the glass, and he forced himself to set it down and let go before it shattered. “I wouldn’t have hurt anyone. I haven’t so far.”

“I know,” Dri said quietly. “We brought you back because we never should have let you leave in the first place. We also need to say we’re sorry.”

Oliver’s head shot up. “What?”

Lin pressed against him, warm, soothing, lips sliding lightly across his cheek. “Shouldn’t have hurt our Oliver. Mint and silk belongs.”

“W-what?” Oliver tried to pull away, but Lin wouldn’t let him, clinging with all the tenacity of an octopus.

Dri smiled fondly at his dragon. “He’s right. We shouldn’t have acted as we did. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I invited you to dinner…” He gave a sheepish smile and finally sat down, playing with his own food before shoving the plate away. “You and I have always gotten along, right? Friends, after a fashion. You never seemed interested in anything outside the office, though, so I let it be. My brothers…they came to visit me a couple weeks ago and made a wisecrack about you liking me. I told them they were being stupid.”

Oliver closed his eyes, mortification flooding through him. Could they not leave him with even a shred of dignity? How the hell had Ricky and Tori noticed? “What’s your point?” he finally asked, forcing the words out of a throat that didn’t really feel like working.

“Mint and silk,” Lin said softly against his skin. “Wanted to meet. Smelled liked need. Need Dri. Lin too?”

The words made Oliver shiver even as he wanted to crawl beneath the floor and die.

Dri chuckled softly. “Lin, stop torturing the poor man. We’re doing that enough as is.” He reached out and tilted Oliver’s head up, fingers soft and warm. “I’m sorry, we’re doing this poorly. Look – I didn’t believe it when they said it. I scheduled the appointment just to see for myself and tell my brothers they need to find a hobby other than ‘make Dri look like an idiot.’ Except…I saw they were right. Then that stupid Bell showed up and I realized quite suddenly I didn’t feel like letting anyone else near you until I figured out what to do about everything. So, dinner.” He grimaced. “Then Lin and I ruined everything by acting exactly like the Clan we left. So for what it’s worth, Oliver, we’re sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. You’re not like that. If you were, we never would have gotten along.”

“I’m sorry too,” Lin said. “You startled me. I should not have focused on the Mordred smell.” He nipped lightly at Oliver’s ear. “You still smell like need.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Who wouldn’t with a dragon clinging to him?”

Dri laughed. “Sounds like you’re getting back to your old self.” He rose up a bit and leaned across the table. “I know I’ve been incredibly stupid about all this – first I was oblivious, then I drove you away – but could I cling to you too? Eventually?”

Definitely going to have breathing problems the rest of his life, Oliver decided. Good thing he was already getting used to it. “I’m a Mordred.”

“Lin and I were supposed to lead the Clan. Obviously none of us are very good at sticking to the plan laid out for us.” Dri leaned closer still, so close their breaths mingled, the warm smell of coffee clinging to him, mingling with the sharper smell of Lin. “You know what they say about rules, Oliver.”

“Yeah,” Oliver said softly, and finally gave up. He reached up and hesitantly touched Dri’s face, brushed back a strand of dark, so soft hair. “I think there’s one about things you’re not supposed to do with the people that work for you.”

Dri grinned, looking suddenly boyish, and caught the hand touching his hair, pressing a kiss to the palm. “Yeah, it says I’m not supposed to be thinking about forgetting food and dragging you back to bed. How the hell did I never notice you, Oliver?”

“I wouldn’t notice me either with Lin to come home to.” Oliver shivered as Dri pressed another kiss to his hand, to his wrist.

Lin growled low and bit his throat. “Belong.”

“Exactly,” Dri said, and finally gave up the teasing, standing up and pulling Oliver up, tugging him close and dipping his head to kiss him properly, wasting no time with gentleness but immediately taking over, pressing deep, consuming – marking. Oliver clung to him, unable to believe it was happening but too aware of the man pressed to his front, the dragon pressed to his back. “Hungry? I should let you eat.”

Oliver shook his head, groaning at the mouth that tormented his throat, his ear, the hands that slipped beneath his clothes. He pressed back against Lin, then forward into Dri. “I want to know this is real.”

“Then we’ll convince you,” Dri said, taking one more deep, dizzying kiss before he dragged Oliver and Lin back to the bedroom.