The (Not) Satisfied Dragon - Colette Rhodes Page 0,85
thing to do.
It hadn't ever mattered before. The decisions I made in the past were so limited, they didn't have a big enough impact for me to bother questioning them. These days, I was responsible for big, long-lasting choices and I wasn't sure I was getting them right.
I sidled up to Hiram, leaning against his arm. “I'm sorry,” I whispered. Apologizing hadn't ever been my strong suit, but I'd expected him to own up to his screwups. Returning the favor was the least I could do. Ezra gave me an approving look as he moved back into the apartment and the other three made themselves scarce on the outside platform.
“It's okay,” Hiram said reassuringly, though his typically easy smile was tighter than usual. “We'll just have to go find two more cool pieces for the hoard to make up for it.”
“Three more,” I promised him.
“No take-backs,” Hiram said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and planting a kiss on my temple. I was worried that Hiram was more bothered by this than he was letting on, but he was bottling it up because he didn't want to get back on my bad side.
“You know, if you're mad at me, you can tell me. I don't want you to feel like we can't talk about things because I'll punish you again.”
Hiram hummed, leaning his head against the top of mine. He rubbed this thumb absently against my upper arm, and I leaned in closer, soaking up his affection. Eventually he let out a heavy sigh.
“I'm trying to be mature about this even though it goes entirely against my nature,” he admitted with a dry laugh. “I know your intentions were good, so I feel like I can't really be mad at you. Am I a little frustrated that you agreed to something like that without discussing it with us? For sure. We're all supposed to be in this together now, right? Making decisions as a flight?”
“You're right,” I replied, struggling to talk through the tightness in my throat. I didn't even know what emotion I was feeling, it was hard to identify. It was a slimy, unpleasant, hot feeling.
Shame?
“I don't want this to set us back, Shira,” Hiram said, unusually serious. “We have made so much progress as a flight, we've come so far. This was a bump in the road, we learn from it and move on, okay? Next time, conversation before giving away the priceless jewel. Deal?”
“Deal,” I replied hoarsely, overwhelmed by both the depth of feeling I was experiencing and Hiram's unexpected grace. My mates had all made such big strides in the time we'd spent apart and since we'd reunited. I was the one letting the flight down.
The one thing I could offer them was answers, and I hadn’t even done that yet.
“Besides, you'll suffer plenty when we have to hand the jewel over,” Hiram added with a mischievous grin. “I'm not going to enjoy it, but your gold instincts are going to abhor it.”
He was right. Already I could feel my fingers twitching, just contemplating giving up something so valuable. I groaned, burying my face against his chest. Why hadn't I just got The Alchemist up here first to check on the Scribe? Idiot, Shira.
“Levi's uncles are going to stay a little longer, then my family will take over this evening,” Ezra announced striding into the main room. “Let’s go pay the fae, then pay Ilia a visit. An attempt on the Scribe's life isn't something we can keep to ourselves.”
✽✽✽
We stopped off in Leodis to drop off a very grumpy goblin in her canvas sling, who swore black and blue she'd never fly again, though she perked up when Ezra paid her for her services. Today was proving to be an expensive day.
Oren had been tasked with carrying the emerald to the Edan's estate in Northgales, and just knowing he had it made me want to tackle him out of the air so I could hide it somewhere safe. Why had I thought this was a good idea? What kind of dragon gave away treasure?
I truly was a faulty gold.
As we flew, I reminded myself that Quillan Edan had gifted me the obsidian blade with no expectation of payment, so I sort of owed him, anyway. The thought that I was repaying a debt eased the hoarding urges, somewhat. As difficult as parting with the emerald was, it was just a pretty trinket compared to the blade that had ended the lives of Flight Milain.