Page 16 of O Holy Spite

Damn dragons and their fucking secrets.

“Where are we?” I ask as I step into a dark alcove. My eyes struggle to adjust to the dark, so I stay still rather than break my neck on shit I can’t see.

His chuckle is soft and the room slowly lights up when he blows a small stream of fire along the wall. I note this trick works much like the one in his Apex archives, letting the fire crawl through the small trough of spicy scented flammable liquid. “This is one of my secret places, snack size.”

I roll my eyes at him then continue watching the very ancient lighting system create a soft glow ahead of us. “Duh, Aubrey. I worked that out when you did some weird Egyptian temple thing to get us inside. It is 2023, you know. Locks are a thing now, old man.”

Rumbling as he walks over and takes my hand, lifting it to his lips to kiss my knuckles. “They are, lunchable, but I am still an ancient shifter with a mistrustful nature. The ways of my clash prevent those with nefarious intentions from paying our hoards unscheduled visits. It is simply our way and the passage of time doesn’t change that.”

“Are you telling me using the old ways keeps people off your lawn? Because if so, I’m getting you a rocking chair for our front yard.” I give him a playful wink, squeezing his fingers.

“You’re definitely spending too much time with Fitz and Rennie,” he grumbles as he laces our fingers together and lowers our hands. “Come with me, bite size, and you’ll see why I keep the ownership of this place concealed.”

My lips curve at his seriousness, but inside, I’m dying with curiosity. I know this has to be one of his fabled ‘hoards.’ Aubrey hasn’t said this is the main one; however, if he’s got one bigger than a damned castle tucked away outside of the nearby cities, I’m going to be very impressed. This is huge, and I’m certain there’s a wealth of info about my reticent dragon held within these walls.

“Show me, big guy.” I shake my hair a little as we walk to a set of stairs that illuminate as we descend them. He still hasn’t made a move to ask for the pack with the clothes I’m carrying, but hell if I’m going to be the one to say anything. The broad shoulders, round ass and muscled thighs are not a punishment to watch from my vantage point.

Lucille didn’t raise a fool, despite what she might think.

“We’ll stop at each floor individually,” he says over his shoulder and I nod, still entranced with watching him walk.

My cheeks heat, then it spreads down my neck to the rest of my body just like his weird torch system. The snowsuit is going to be unbearable at this rate, so I raise my free hand to lower the zipper a bit before it gets mission critical. I don’t know if it’s just my reaction to him or if this castle really is hot, but I feel it from head to toe. It takes me a moment to clear my throat and push a breathy response out.

“Are they all different?”

He pauses on the first landing and my eyes widen as my dragon turns to face me. I blink, forcing myself to keep my eyes on his strong features. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes and it occurs to me that his damn shifter nose is probably tattling on me as we speak. “Of course. Everything is cataloged and in its proper place.”

The indignance in his tone breaks the spell, making me giggle. “Oh, how could I think any differently, Lord of the Card Catalog?”

Huffing small smoke rings, he gives me a narrow eyed glare as he puts his hand on another hieroglyph. The heavy door opens and he mocks a bow. I let go of his hand and smack his shoulder as I enter the enormous room with a gasp.

Holy fuck.

The entire floor is one big room with gorgeous built-in shelves and displays in rich black marble with gold veins. There are paintings, sculptures, carvings, statues, lithographs… every possible art form you could dream of featuring dragons from all corners of the world. The most heavily represented is obviously the Draconis line from Egypt, but the sheer amount of jewels and precious metals sparkling in the creations in this room is almost blinding. Museums would weep at Aubrey’s collection; it’s so beautiful I’m hardly able to catch my breath.

“Aubrey… this is…”

He chuckles and shrugs. “I’ve been gathering it all my life—legitimately, I might add. I didn’t raze any villages for it, so I don’t want your ethically abundant best friend coming after me when you tell her.”

I probably look slightly abashed—he knew I’d tell Rufus and Cori even if I’m supposed to keep all of this a big secret. “I’ll make sure she knows you didn’t rob any temples, big guy.”

“Unlike humans, dragons are quite fair in their pursuit of valuables for their hoards, snack size. We could terrorize and take, but it’s not our way.” His expression darkens and he grumbles, “That’s probably why the assholes love to portray us as greedy fuckers in their tales. It absolves them of their guilt in raiding supe culture as easily as they’ve done their own people.”

Nodding, I walk over to an empty glass display pedestal. “What was in here?”

“Your crown,” Aubrey says. “It belonged to the last dragon Empress of Eurasia. Once the clashes separated the territories, there wasn’t an Empress anymore. Plenty of royalty, but titles get retired when things get shuffled in negotiations.”

I have no idea which question to ask first.

“Um, what negotiations? We don’t learn about mythical politics, remember. And… how the hell did you get that thing, anyway? And why are you letting me wear something that priceless, for fuck’s sake?”

My voice gets higher as my anxiety rises. I knew that damn thing was expensive, but now I feel like an idiot storing it on the special wig head Rufus gave me in my bedroom. I mean, an Empress used to own it? This fucking guy, I swear to shit. Fidgeting as he looks at me in amusement, I stomp my foot, hoping to let him know I’m serious.

“That was adorable. Do it again,” he rumbles as he comes closer. “Better yet, do it with your ears.”

“Aubrey,” I grit my teeth as I chastise him. “Answer me. You can’t just… drop shit like that and expect me to hop over like a good little rabbit.”

For the first time ever, I see what I’d call a pout cross the serious librarian’s face. If he was Fitz, I’d swear it was, but the big guy doesn’t ever look that silly. My jaw drops when he bats his lashes and I sputter as I try to work out what is even happening right now. His eyes dance as I stride over, unable to stop myself despite my confusion.

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