“Stig said some of those clavigers also became dragons.”
“When two people love, when two dragons love, it’s impossible to separate them.”
“And I’m part dragon?”
“A very small part,” he clarified. “We’ll have Reynard research your family line in his archives and then we’ll know for sure. The signs”—he gestured to his own back—“are clear enough. Diluted dragon blood explains why your mating with Stig caused the scaling on your back. His touch, his love, the magic between you, awakened those sparks of dragon inside you.”
“And that’s why the Knights used me.”
“It’s no coincidence your brother and Stig fought together during the war. I suspect the Knights were involved then and again after your brother left the Marines. They likely pushed him toward their loan sharks. The rest, of course, you know.”
Cora took a small bite of her celery as visions of her brother danced in her mind. “You know what I don’t get? Why didn’t the Knights go after Stig when he was in Afghanistan or Iraq?”
“There are rules. Human wars supersede our blood feud. Places of conflict, churches, and homes are strictly out of bounds. We don’t trespass on the Knights at their homes and they don’t come to ours.”
Cora frowned. “All these rules are confusing.”
“You’ll learn them in time.” He caught her gaze. “If you intend to stay, that is.”
“I’m staying with Stig.” Whether you like it or not, she added silently.
“I’m glad.”
Cora scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. I make you vulnerable, remember.”
Ignatius nodded. “You do, but you also make Stig happy. And he deserves some happiness after all these many years of solitude and war.” His voice grew soft. “We all do.” He angled his head a bit to the left. “Perhaps it’s time to reconsider some of our older, more draconian regulations. Maybe we all need something to fight for, something more than our Brothers.”
Cora sensed his sadness. From the scars on their bodies, it was clear the Brotherhood had seen some truly awful times. They’d fought to protect their species from Knights and sacrificed so much. How lonely it must have been all those years for all of them.
She stared at Stig, his face relaxed and calm. “I wonder if I’ll ever understand what he’s been through.”
“I don’t think you can,” Ignatius said bluntly. “Your life experience is so miniscule compared to his.”
Cora’s stomach pitched at his frank reminder. He must have seen her fallen face because he quickly added, “Don’t let that discourage you. The very fact that you care enough to want to understand him is what matters.” Ignatius’s gaze landed on Stig. “And he knows that.”
Ignatius stood and walked around the bed. “In six months, Stig will go through his heat phase again as a completion of this cycle. This time you’ll be with him through it all. You can have a proper mating ceremony. I suspect the binding magic will force your body to make the full change. Once you make your final transformation, your new life with Stig is all that really matters. Everything in the past is just that: the past.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Your new life will have hardships, I’m sure. The Knights will always be out there lurking, waiting. But there will be love and laughter, children and grandchildren.”
Cora bubbled with happiness at the vision Ignatius painted. She laughed and playfully slapped Ignatius’s arm. “You had me convinced you were some mean hard-ass but listen to you! What a softie,” she teased. “You’re just a big old dragon-shaped marshmallow.”
His jaw twitched. “Hardly.”
Giggling, Cora sat back and watched Ignatius leave. He paused in the doorway. “He’s waking.”
“Oh.” Cora set aside the tray, leaned forward, and touched Stig’s hand as Ignatius disappeared. Energy sizzled between them, a tingling static arcing between her fingertips and the top of his hand. She caressed his jaw. The thick stubble covering his face pricked her fingertips. “Stig?”
His fingers flexed. It was the first positive sign she’d had from him in days. His eyelids flickered and parted briefly before closing again. Cora tried to temper her excitement. It might be too soon. He could still be too tired or in too much pain. The deep sleep of regeneration spared him from most of it, though.
If it came down to a choice between his comfort and feeding her need to hear him speak, she’d happily choose the former.
Stig’s breaths grew shallow and quick. His limbs twitched as a grimace contorted his face. Cora’s heart twinged at the obvious sign of his discomfort. She gently stroked his face and whispered encouragingly, softly.