Page 2 of Still Singing To My Heart

He chittered excitedly because he knew the harness usually meant a car ride and that was one of his favorite things.

“It bothers Duke more than he lets on,” I said, as Jonah shouldered both duffel bags and we headed toward the door.

Once upon a time, I’d have insisted on carrying my own bags, but I gave up on that after all our years together. Besides, I already had Chestnut on one shoulder chittering away as we stepped outside.

“I know,” Jonah sighed. “I know and I hate that we can’t do anything about that. We can do our best and that’s all we’ve ever been able to do. Look, don’t think I don’t want to kick his ass sometimes. I do. I just promised someone I wouldn’t go around picking fights with Fred the dragon.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. He was right. I made him promise not to fight with Fred when Duke was a toddler. I didn’t particularly want Fred beaten up right now either. It was strange to think that at one time I was afraid Fred would kidnap Duke and I’d never see him again. Now, I had to pester him into being a sire for our kid.

“Fuck ‘em,” Jonah said as we loaded the bags into the back of the jeep. “Seriously, fuck him. If he doesn’t see he has an awesome kid after all these years, fuck him. He’s the problem.”

I nodded as I headed for the passenger side of the jeep. In a blur of speed, Jonah beat me there and opened the door for me. Laughing, I stole a kiss before sliding into the passenger seat and moving Chestnut onto my lap. I stroked the top of his head as he chittered away looking in all directions.

“No more Fred talk?” Jonah arched a brow as he slid in behind the steering wheel.

“No more Fred talk,” I nodded my agreement.

Chapter Two

Jonah

Heartville wasn’t as small as I expected it to be. It wasn’t as small as it was the last time we visited for Yule. I heard about all the people who took refuge in the village as the war in London raged on, but I expected some of them to have gone back home. Apparently, more of them wanted the quiet life than I had bet on.

Duke met us at the Other World Gateway, kissing us both on the cheek, and trying to take the duffel bags from me. Sometimes he treated me like an old man, but as least we raised a kid who was pack-minded and wanted to help out. I was proud of him. I was proud of him for opening the lounge and proud of him from having Blithe’s back when everything hit the fan. He was a good mate to Syre and always talked so much about Duchess. Such a good dad. If not for the draconic qualities of his ‘inner dude’ it’d be easy enough to forget that Fred Moonscale had anything to do with his conception.

“Thought you said no more Fred talk,” Blake prodded me over our mating link as we made the walk to Duke’s house.

“Quit reading my mind, but it wasn’t really about Fred. It was about how well our kid turned out despite him,” I shrugged.

“You two okay?” Duke asked.

“We’re fine, baby,” Blake said, speeding up to walk beside Duke. “Just double checking that your dad packed the towels.”

“Dad, I don’t use that many towels,” Duke groaned at the old debate. “We have plenty of them at the house.”

“I swore as a teenager you ate them,” Blake laughed.

“Did you bring the squirrel guy?” Duke changed the subject. “I still haven’t gotten to meet him.”

“He’s a city squirrel,” Blake shook his head. “You’ll meet him the next time you come for a visit.”

“We’ll come soon,” Duke nodded.

“Not too soon. Make sure Syre gets enough rest,” I reminded him. “We miss you, kiddo, but don’t want anyone worn out and traveling. I remember how that feels.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” Duke swiveled around so that he was walking backwards and looking at me while he talked. Blake hated when he did it as a kid and by his scent he still wasn’t fond of it now. Blake didn’t say anything, because at some point you have to let your kids take their own risks. Duke never fell before, guided by whatever internal compass his inner beast had.

“Huh?” I blinked, unsure of what new topic Duke was tossing into the arena.

“I liked the demo from that one band. Uh—What’s it called?” he glanced up at the sky as if the answers were written in the fluffy, white clouds.

“Bent Scales?” I arched a brow trying to remember the last demo I sent him.

Duke wasn’t involved in the music industry now. He was for a tiny bit when he owned the lounge and would let new and upcoming bands play there occasionally. He really enjoyed the demos of bands The Grim Howlers Record Label were considering. So, I still sent them to him.

“They played at your lounge last night,” Blake said.

“Joy’s lounge now.”

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