Origin Exposed: Descended of Dragons, Book 2 (18 page)

“
W
ell
, you clean up all right.”

Timbra looked better than all right. She was fabulous in a strapless azure party dress. She’d dressed me in a sparkly gold top, a black pencil skirt, and gold heels. I was feeling pretty fabulous myself.

We stood just outside the wolf-emblazoned doors of Ewan’s “cabin” and could hear Layla’s band warming up out back. I anxiously lifted the bronze knocker. In a matter of seconds, Ewan swung the door wide and caught me up in his arms. He pressed his lips to mine and the scent, the heat of him washed over me like a ripple of love. I grinned so wide my cheeks hurt.
Me. Grinning. About a boy.

“Well this is new,” Timbra said with a wry turn of her mouth. I raised my shoulders in a helpless shrug. There was really no explaining it anyway.

“You look amazing,” Ewan said as his gaze swept me from head to toe. “You look nice too, Timbra. Let’s go. Everyone’s dying to see you.”

As we made our way through the expansive house, the blond wood of its interior was airy and open. The faint undertones of the wood structure, combined with occasional drifts of the vegetables grilling outside, smelled like home. My outlook elevated to damn-near ecstatic. My heart was full, and I was happy.

We joined the party through the open French doors leading to the back patio and pool. Someone had strung lights, and they swayed in the evening breeze, throwing streams of light like tiny, subdued disco balls.

Timbra stopped in her tracks when she saw how many had gathered for the party. She smiled widely when she saw our close friends were there: Layla and Mari, Raynor, Bex. Several others from The Root, too, as well as Loryn and her husband, Sterling, and some of their friends.

Timbra scanned the crowd until she found Boone, and her legs shot forward, dragging her body with them. She ran to him, wrapped her arms around his neck. He was stunned but quickly squeezed her to him. His wide blue eyes filled with tears in front of us all, but he didn’t care. Neither did she. None of us could look away, and we watched the scene unfold like a telenovella as he kissed her fawn hair and lay his cheek against her head.

But his forehead folded in confusion when she stepped away from him and cleared her throat. Timbra took a deep breath, stood to her full height.

“I have some news,” she announced and twisted her hands nervously. “This is a celebration. I’m returning to The Root.”

Boone’s mouth fell open and then formed into questions, “What? How?”

“My father’s agreed to send me back. And even if he hadn’t, I was coming back to you. I’d have found an apartment, a job, some way to be in the city.”

“And us?” Boone whispered. His eyes shot back and forth between Timbra’s as he awaited her answer. “What about us?”

Timbra nodded and smiled, her face crinkling into a beacon of happiness. Boone’s own face lit with unfiltered joy. He picked her up and swung her in a circle. Neither could contain the laughter that bubbled within them and spilled out to the crowd, who cheered and clanked cups in toasts. The atmosphere was electric with excitement, elation. It was unforgettable—one of the best moments of my life.

Ewan was caught up in the moment, too, and pulled me into him. I looked up in wonder. My heart felt so full, so happy, so…

Could this be what it feels like to fall in love
? I thought.

Since the loss of my mother, for the first time in my life good things had begun stacking on top of one another. I had found the place I belonged, I’d made beloved friends, I had family—two sets.

Gaspare had arranged for me to have Timbra back at The Root; Timbra’s father had ceded his familial heritage to his political future. And it was beginning to feel possible to return the feelings Ewan had for me, which were much stronger than he had ever let on. My fractured heart had been re-glazed with love, acceptance, and potential. For a moment I thought my heart might shatter again, only this time, the thousand pieces would shoot up to meet the stars.

Pia’s incessant buzzing brought me back to solid ground. I excused myself to check her message.

“Whattup, Pia?” I asked, unfettered by the distraction.

“You’ve received a message from S.D.”

My heart plunged into my stomach. “Ah. Okay. What’s it say? Please read it.”

“Stella,” Pia intoned. “Heard you’re having a party. Sounds like fun. Came as far as the woods. Would love to join you.”

What the hell is he thinking? He really is mad.
“That’s the entire message, Pia?”

“It is.”

I had no idea what to do and ran a hand through my hair, which had been styled to perfection.

Timbra caught sight of my snafu. “I didn’t spend twenty minutes on that wild red mess you call hair to have you pawing at it all night.”

“Sorry,” I jerked my hand from my head, but couldn’t keep still.

“And now you’re gnawing your cuticles. What’s up with you? Is it Ewan?”

“No, no. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. This is your night. Let’s go talk to Layla.”

“Something’s up with you, Stonewall. What is it?”

I let out a hard breath. I didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t want to acknowledge what was actually happening. She tapped a foot impatiently and stared me down.

“That guy from the bistro the other day?” She nodded in recognition. “He’s here. Wants to come to the party.”

“Great. The more the merrier.”

“You don’t understand. He’s…he’s. Well, there are still some things I’ve not yet told you about my family.”

“Oh, for gods’ sake, Stella. Just go get the guy. Tonight’s a celebration. You know I don’t have any hangups about your family.”

“But. No. He’s—”

“Go,” she said, her voice deepening with force. “It’s my party. Go get him, or I will.”

I left, but resolved to talk Stryde out of joining the party. He didn’t know anyone, after all. And he should definitely not be seen by so many people. It was my job to talk some sense into him.

What I didn’t realize was how difficult it would be to talk sense into someone who’d lost his mind.

“
S
tryde
, hello.” He looked less agitated than he had before. There were no tremors that I noticed. His movements were smoother, less jerky. I breathed a little easier.

Stryde rushed me with a hug before I could step away from it. I stiffened at the awkward embrace, but endured it. At first. When he clutched me tighter and sniffed me, I wriggled for release. He didn’t let go and my heart stuttered in panic. After pushing against his chest, he finally released me, though his gaze remained fixed on mine.

“You smell of wolf,” he said. “Too much of wolf.”

“You know what, Stryde? That is not your business. And I am awful damn tired of everybody sniffing me all the time. I don’t care if it’s a Thayerian thing, or that you can’t help it. It’s rude. Keep your nose to yourself.”

“Is it the wolf’s house? The party?”

“What? Yes. What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I came to see you. I want to meet your friends.” He said it as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

“But, you can’t. You’re in hiding. If anyone recognizes you we’re in big trouble.”

“No one will recognize me. No one knows me. I’ve been away for a long time. Too long. I was cooped up with only my dad and grandma for years. And now I’m stuck in a minuscule cabin with them. I can’t go anywhere, can’t make new friends. Can’t have people to my own home. Nothing’s changed since our imprisonment. I’m going mad.” He laughed without humor. “Well,
madder
. Please, Stella. I need this. I need to feel normal. To remember what it’s like to be young again. To be free, if only for an hour.”

My eyes fell closed and I shook my head. “It’s not a good idea. There’s just too much at risk. Things’ll get better with time, Stryde. I know they will.”

“Please,” he whispered. His hopeless desperation was so evident it hurt my heart. My resolve turned to dust and floated to the forest floor.

“All right,” I said. “But please, keep it together. This is a celebration. Enjoy yourself, and then go back to the safety of your cabin.”

He smiled, and it almost didn’t give me the creeps. He was truly happy. I knew he deserved happiness, and it was gratifying to know I could give him a little.

I held out my arm for a connection to trace together. Rather than hold my forearm, as intended, he ran his calloused fingers through my closed fist, forcing it open. He squeezed his fingers between mine in an odd, stiff clasp. I shook my head, gritted my teeth, and lifted a foot to take us back to the party.

When we arrived back near the pool Timbra noticed at once and waved a friendly hello to Stryde, who bowed formally in response. Ewan saw us, too, and made his way toward me.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he said to Stryde and offered an outstretched hand.

When Stryde moved to return the greeting Ewan caught his scent. It was evident in his stiff posture, in the hard set of his jaw the moment he pieced it all together. His eyes shot to me, to Stryde, back to me. I could almost see the inner workings of his too-clever mind. He was running over the potential scenarios. I could almost imagine his thought process: should he throw Stryde out? Should he berate me for my stupidity in bringing him here? Should he alert the authorities? Should he keep cool, act like nothing was wrong, hope for the best, and let the celebration continue?

He must’ve chosen the latter.

When Stryde extended his hand, Ewan shook it stiffly, his jaws trembling under the weight of their pressure.

“I’m Stryde,” my cousin said. “You must be the wolf. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Ewan took a deep breath. He tried and failed to find words, and nodded instead. We all stood awkwardly for several long moments. It was a close contest of who was the most uncomfortable, but I thought it was probably me.

“Stella, may I speak with you for a moment?” Ewan finally said.

I followed him to the side of the house. “What the hell were you thinking?” he gritted the moment we rounded the log structure. My eyes shot toward the party; I hoped we were out of earshot. The way Thayerians could hear, though, probably not.

“He just showed up,” I defended, my shoulders ascending to my ears. “He begged to come. Promised to be good. I…I felt sorry for him. He just wants to feel normal for a little while.”

Ewan said nothing. He held his head in his hands, rubbed his eyes. “Well,” he said after a beat and looked up. “There’s nothing to be done about it now. Might as well go back.”

He kissed me softly, reverently, and pulled back to catch my gaze. “Let’s go join the celebration.”

We found Stryde at the outdoor bar on his second shot of whiskey.
That’s not good
, I thought. I pasted on a grin for Ewan and left him to make sure Stryde didn’t get out of control.

“Better save some for everyone else,” I said in a playful tone.

“Oh,” Stryde replied. “Don’t worry; I brought more.” He produced a half-empty bottle from the back pocket of his pants. His fine black hair fell over one eye as he looked down at me blearily.

“Did you drink the other half of that?”

Stryde nodded pleasantly.

“Tonight? Before you came here?”

“Helps calm my nerves,” he said before pressing the bottle to his lips. “Stops the tremors.”

“I see. Maybe you’d better cool it for a little while? Keep your wits about ya?”

“You know what I’d really like?” he asked.

“What’s that?”
Please say to go home. Please say to go home.

“To dance.”

I forced a laugh. “They’re good, right? That’s my friend Layla. Band’s called Shiny Things. Go for it. They cleared a spot for a dance floor and everything.”

“No,” he said with a frown. “I want to dansh with you.”
Did he just slur ‘dance?’

“Oh, I’d better not, Stryde. But thank you.”

“Dance with me,” he said and reached for my hands. I pulled them back just in time.

“I’d better go check on Timbra.” I turned to find her, but he was in front of me before I could blink.

“Just one dance. I came all this way.”

He wouldn’t be deterred, and I decided to make the best of the situation. Maybe he’d be satisfied and move on. “Sure,” I said tightly and followed him to the dance floor.

Shiny Things was in the middle of an up-tempo song.
Thank goodness,
I thought.
Slow dancing would be awkward
. But instead of dancing according to the music’s tempo he grabbed me, holding my hand and clasping my waist so tightly I squirmed uncomfortably.

“Let me go, Stryde,” I said, still holding out hope he’d listen to reason. Instead, he held me tighter, forcing my arms, my body to move with his like a string puppet. He danced us around the patio in stiff, jerky movements and the other guests eyed us warily.

I caught Layla’s gaze as we passed her and put every bit of pleading I could into my eyes.

She tried to help. Her efforts were just misguided. She stopped the band mid-song and switched gears, slowing the music down. A ballad.

Relax
, I told myself and willed toward Stryde.
Relax.
He slowed, and his grip on my hands loosened enough that the blood could reach my fingertips. I forced myself to breathe, to clear my head and find a peaceable way out of the situation.

The weight of Stryde’s stare caused me to look up. He was too close. There was only room for the rank scent of whiskey between us. I wrenched back, but my neck could only extend so far. Stryde followed my head, his eyes intent on mine before he closed them. My stomach lurched with the realization he intended to kiss me.

“Stryde, no!” I jerked to free myself from him, but he returned his grip on my hands. “What are you doing?” I rasped. Keeping my voice down was a losing battle.

“I’m trying to kiss you,” he said, his wide brow tight with the stirrings of indignation and rejection.

“Why the hell would you do
that
?”

He shook his head dumbly. “I got no response to the flowers I sent, nor the candy. I tried to take you to dinner but you left.” He gave an unattractive grunt. “But you seem to be a woman of action. I’m hoping you’ll respond to me physically.”