be silly or make out with a hot alpha just because I could, with no cares over who might see or what their intentions might be. I would even love to wear a silly foam finger at a sporting event.
I just wanted to be me and not my birthright.
Except that would never be... unless, of course, I went into heat and ruined everything for the entire family.
Go Law of Old.
“Arrange it.” My father opened up his folder, a not-so-subtle hint the conversation was over. “Which date?”
“The sixteenth, Your Majesty.” Which Gabriel knew was not a time we could be away because of the scheduled ball. “If you prefer, I could arrange it for Aiden and chaperone him myself.” Because I wasn’t an adult or anything. He was still cross I’d missed the last set-up, although he would never say so directly, instead doing things like this.
“Father.” I waited for him to acknowledge me. “I am unfortunately unavailable. With the Dragon Festival, I have already accepted multiple invitations for that day, and then there is the ball. Our people will not look kindly upon me missing that.” Thank goodness.
I took out my phone and pulled up my calendar for that day. Sure enough, I was going to two schools, a senior center, and a local pageant. Past-me had done an amazing job of overbooking myself.
“Gabriel, you will have to give our regrets.” And that was the end of that conversation.
Gabriel opened his mouth once as if to speak, met my father’s eyes, and bid his goodbyes.
I picked up our plates, my muffin eaten, my father’s as gone as it would be. He didn’t like the healthy ones, no matter how much he tried to convince himself they were good.
“You probably should get the meeting over with.” My father wasn’t wrong. I should.
Only, Father didn’t understand. He had my dad and true love and all of that, whereas I had the uncovered Law of Old, a pain-in-the-ass advisor pushing a spoiled brat on me, and no prospects of true like, much less true love, in sight.
“You’re right,” I conceded. And maybe Raphael wasn’t that bad. At least I didn’t remember him smelling bad last time we crossed paths. Of course, that was when we were teens. He could’ve given up deodorant for all I knew. “I will.”
“No more stomach bugs?” he asked knowingly. I should’ve known I’d gotten away with that too easily. I’d faked an illness to get out of meeting Raphael at the Assembly of Nations, but that was where Brenton had met his eventual mate, Gavin.
“I’d be sorry, except—Brenton is happier than I’ve ever seen.”
“Which is why I haven’t told your dad.” He tapped my folder. “Let’s get this done and maybe we can go for a flight.”
Wings. My dragon was on board with that.
“I’d like that, Father.” I found where I had stopped earlier. “My dragon would too.”
“So would I, Son. So would I.”
Two
Shaw
The life of a baker wasn’t for everyone. And when my alarm rang at three am every morning, I was pretty sure it wasn’t the life I wanted, either. But that was before.
Before I’d showered and had my first coffee.
Before I’d checked on my sister, Sienna, and made sure I hadn’t woken her.
Before I’d stumbled down the stairs of our small second-floor apartment and turned on the lights in my bakery kitchen and begun the process of making dough. For croissants, cinnamon rolls, and all the varieties of bread we were famous for, though I’d prepped and shaped the baguettes last night.
Lugging sacks of flour was one of my least favorite tasks, but being a baker was great therapy, I reasoned. I got to punch things in the face every day of my life—that being dough, not people, though when customers got in my face after we’d run out of muffins, I fantasized about causing them harm—and long before the rest of the population had staggered, bleary-eyed, into their own kitchens.
And while kneading, I allowed my mind to wander, not to my long list of daily tasks or to whether Sienna would get into a good college, but to somewhere else. In that place, there was a cool breeze billowing over me instead of the constant heat from the oven. And in that dream world, when I finally got into bed at night, I wasn’t alone. There was a special someone snuggling up to me who shared my successes, failures, and dreams.
Kneading, accompanied by deep breathing and along with punching dough, helped relieve stress and