Deven and the Dragon - Eliot Grayson Page 0,71

didn’t have the right to anything.

Still, no one was going to take him from Fiora’s side until Deven was sure he’d be all right.

And Andrei had some questions to answer.

Andrei was easy to find. The moment Deven stepped into the hall from the drawing room, he saw Andrei holding a whispered conversation with Fred and another footman Deven had only smiled at in passing, since they didn’t have a common language.

All three turned and stared. Andrei’s face went a disturbing shade of crimson, and he charged Deven like a wounded bull. “What did you do to him? How dare you return here — how dare — what did you do to him?”

“What the fuck were you thinking, leaving him alone in the garden in this state?” Deven fired back. “He was in his dragon form, lying there like he might die any minute. He changed while I was trying to rouse him, and I wrapped him up and brought him back to the house like you ought to have bloody well done! And now I’m putting him to bed, where he ought to have been to begin with, and then you’re going to fucking tell me what’s going on —”

“He wanted some fresh air, and I was right here! This is your fault!” Andrei shouted. “You’re not taking him anywhere —”

Both came to a sudden stop as an ear-splitting noise like the rushing of water through a broken dam crashed over the castle, a roar that shook the walls and drowned out any other sound.

It ended abruptly in two heavy thumps from right outside the front doors.

A moment later, the doors burst open, and two people — no, not people. Two dragons — strode in, stark naked and all the more terrifying for it. They were middle-aged in appearance, though who the hell knew how old they really were. The lady’s long hair streamed behind her, the color of torchlight on blood, and her skin glowed rosy pink like the rising sun. Her companion was silvery-gray, and his eyes and hair were jet black.

The lady bore a striking resemblance to Fiora, and the man had Fiora’s pointy nose.

She barked something at Andrei in their native tongue, and Andrei bowed deeply and replied, gesturing at Deven and Fiora.

She turned her attention to Deven, fire kindling in her rust-red eyes. “Give me my son,” she said, changing to his own language fluently, but with a heavier accent than Fiora had. “Or you won’t live long enough to beg for mercy.”

Deven had faced more than one set of angry parents in his time, and stood his ground. This time — well, this time he was a lot more likely to die for it, but this time it was actually worth it.

“Once I’ve taken him upstairs and settled him in bed, I’ll hold one of his hands and you can have the other,” he said. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Claws sprouted from her fingers, and she advanced on Deven with a look on her face that promised murder.

And Fiora stirred, moaned, and opened his eyes. He sleepily murmured something in his own language, though Deven thought he caught ‘mama,’ which must be the same. He wriggled around until he had a hand out of Deven’s borrowed coat, fisted it into Deven’s shirt, and tucked his face into the hollow of his shoulder with a sigh.

Hope swelled in Deven’s breast, enough to nearly choke him. “What did he say? Andrei? What did he say?”

Andrei’s brows had drawn together, and he joined Fiora’s mother, both of them gazing down at Fiora’s sleeping face. “He said he felt much better and wanted a nap,” Andrei said wonderingly.

Fiora’s mother’s expression softened, her claws vanished, and she reached out and carefully smoothed a lock of Fiora’s hair away from his forehead. He mumbled something else, smiled, and stayed sound asleep.

“I think the curse may have broken, or at least lessened in its effects. My God,” Andrei said wonderingly. “My lady, I think the curse may have broken!” He looked up at Deven. “What did you do?”

Curse? “Curse?” Deven demanded. “What — he’s under a curse? Now you tell me? And what do you mean, what did I do?” He looked from Andrei to Fiora’s mother, anger overtaking his sense of self-preservation. “Do you not think this would have been fucking useful information for me to have?”

“It was none of your affair,” Andrei snarled.

“Apparently it was!” Deven said hotly, cradling Fiora closer as he shifted a little. “If I’d known,