The (Not) Satisfied Dragon - Colette Rhodes Page 0,81

fact; I was confident Shira would never ask us for approval for anything — but there was something behind that expression.

“My family is no longer around, except for my newly mated brother who I’m sure you can forgive for being absent tonight,” Shira added wryly, drawing some chuckles from the crowd. “To be honest, I’m a little overwhelmed about all the new faces in my life. That being said, I look forward to getting to know you all better, and I hope that feeling is mutual, even after the announcement Ezra is about to make.”

The laughter was a little more nervous, but the warm looks Shira was getting were genuine. She was a natural politician really, combining honesty with light humor and captivating her audience.

Ezra stepped forward seamlessly, like the two of them had coordinated it. “As I’m sure you know, there is a vacant seat on the Council. Flight Galon is running for it. All six of us.”

There was a strange mixture of cheers and gasps of surprise as half the room understood all of Ezra’s message, and the other half only picked up the first bit. Hiram grinned, rocking back and forth on his heels like an excited kid. He was living for the drama.

“To Shira! To Flight Galon!” Leo yelled, raising his tankard in a toast. Shira gave him a guilty smile, probably still feeling bad for drugging him.

“To Shira! To Flight Galon!” most of the crowd echoed back, raising their tankards and taking a long drink.

The crowd pushed forward, all eager to get to Ezra and Shira and bombard them with questions. She didn’t need that shit, though. Shira barely tolerated answering our questions, she wouldn’t be comfortable answering everyone else’s.

Oren got there before I could, deftly extracting her from the crowd and guiding her through the room, out into the hallway. As much as I wanted to go with them, they needed the time alone. Well, they needed more than that, but I doubted they’d be comfortable taking things that far with the den full of drunk dragons.

Instead, I fought my way through the crowd to get to Ezra, who didn’t need anyone’s help but would appreciate it. He was being hounded with questions, most persistently from his own mother.

“Was this your idea?” Roxana all but shrieked, making her mates wince. “She’ll never have any peace!”

“It was Shira’s idea,” Ezra said defensively.

“Did you explain to her what it would mean for her life to serve on the Council?”

“Roxana, I’m sure Shira can perfectly understand that for herself,” Leo said placatingly, pulling her back from Ezra. “We’re excited for you, son,” he added, looking at Ezra. “I think we should do some shots to celebrate. Nothing brightens your mother’s mood like whiskey.”

Hiram materialized at my side with a tray of whiskey and shot glasses, shoulder checking me and nodding towards Ezra. “Come on. Let’s get everyone drunk enough to think a gold on the Council is the best idea they’ve ever heard.”

✽✽✽

Stupid Hiram. Stupid whiskey.

The first rays of sunshine had been coming through the parlor window by the time all of our guests had left and we’d stumbled into bed. Oren was still awake, cradling a sleeping Shira in the middle of the bed. How she hadn’t woken when we’d all collapsed around her, I had no idea.

I was even more confused about why she hadn’t kicked us out this morning. Ezra, Seff, Hiram and I reeked of stale sweat and whiskey. The extended drinking games had distracted our guests, though. By the time they’d left, they’d been drunkenly announcing to the entire valley that it was outrageous no gold had ever served on the Council before.

“How’s everyone feeling this morning?” Shira asked perkily. She was lying more on Oren than the bed and did a very languid cat-like stretch that seemed designed to torture us.

“Never better,” Hiram replied. I opened one eye to look at him, sitting propped up against the pillows with bright eyes and a cheerful grin on his face. What the fuck?

“Asshole,” Seff muttered, pulling a pillow over his head.

“I was thinking we should bring The Alchemist to the Records Keep today to check on the Scribe,” Shira said, sounding suddenly nervous.

“Why’s that?” Ezra asked drowsily, lying on his back, massaging his eyeballs.

“The more I think about it, the more something isn’t quite adding up,” Shira said thoughtfully, brow furrowed. “There was something odd about his symptoms. I’m not sure he has Queen Fever.”

“Really?” Ezra asked, sitting up slowly and leaning against