Page 58 of Tempting Her Dragons

“Laken didn’t upset you, did he?” She wrinkles her nose, ready to do battle on my behalf.

“No. He welcomed me to the family.” I smile as her eyes narrow.

“That doesn’t sound like him,” she mutters.

“He did it in his way.” I trail my finger down her nose. “He encouraged me to be good to you.”

“That sounds like him,” she snorts.

“He has a lot of guilt.” Her face softens. “He’s making up for the time he thinks he wasted.”

“He’s always done what he thought was right. I understand his actions.”

“Don’t worry. He loves you.”

“I love him too,” she sighs. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I deny.

“Mav,” she says, cupping her hand over my hand that holds the lighter. “I have noticed you hold it. Will you tell me about it?” I look down.

“It was my dad’s.” I pull my hand away but grab her with my other. I sit at the base of a tree, and she follows. “He thought it was funny to carry a lighter around when his chest was full of fire if he decided to use it. He liked the sound it made. I often saw him staring at the flame.”

“He gave it to you?” she asks, turning, resting her bent legs against my thigh.

“No.” I swallow and stare at it. “When they were dragging us away, I saw his body, and it was beside him. He must have had it when they attacked. I grabbed it without them noticing. It was covered in blood. I wanted something to remember himby, even if it was stained forever red.” I flip the lid. “He was larger than life. His voice was deep but loud. My mom would scold him at least five times a day for the dirty jokes he told.” I smile sadly. “She didn’t think it was appropriate for a young boy to hear them. I thought he was a king. When I wasn’t with Kingston, I followed my dad everywhere. I wanted to be just like him. My mom would often make remarks, wishing she could get some of the love. At the time, I thought she was joking, but with time, I think she was a little jealous that I idolized him. I regret not spending more time with her. I loved her, and she deserved more.”

“No,” Saph says, cupping the side of my neck. “I’m sure she understood. You were a young boy. Of course, you wanted to be like your dad.” She slides her hand down my chest, pressing against my heart. “She wouldn’t want you to live with guilt.”

I cover her hand. “I know she wouldn’t. All I knew was that I loved them and thought my dad was cool as shit.” I pull her hand, and she lands on my chest. She tucks her head under my chin and wraps her arm around my waist. “I wish I could remember them happy, but all I see is their pain at the end.”

“I can’t imagine,” she whispers. “Sometimes, I think I’m lucky. I didn’t see their deaths as Laken did. I don’t remember having them.”

“I try to think about the good times, and I am grateful I had as many years as I did. I also think it would have been easier not to remember them,” I admit.

“Aren’t we the pair,” she says. “You wish you had what I did.” She squeezes my side. “Be grateful, Mav. They loved you. When those thoughts push in, think of how it would feel to not know where you came from.”

“You’re right.” I rub my face over her hair. “The pain never goes away. It gets easier, but there is still a hole in my heart from their absence. Mom did everything possible to fill it. I don’t likethinking about them because it seems like an insult to all she’s done for us.”

“I haven’t known Roxanne long, but I can say for certain she would be pissed to hear that,” she says. “She is not the kind of woman to be angry over your love for your parents.”

“She isn’t,” I agree. “She hasn’t done anything to make me think she would. There my feelings, not hers.”

“Love them, Mav,” she says. “Love the moments you had. They wouldn’t want you to remember them as they died. Love Roxanne for everything she gave you afterward. I know your parents would be so grateful to her.”

“I think they would like her,” I say softly. “Do you think I should get rid of the lighter?” The thought of it makes me nervous.

“I would never say that,” she assures me. “It was your dad’s, and you have good memories attached to it. I don’t care if you like to hold it. If it helps you, keep it. I was curious about the meaning behind it, that’s all. We all have things that help us, and it’s not wrong.”

“I can’t part with it,” I decide, rubbing the top.

“Then don’t.”

“Simple as that,” I mutter.

“Yes.”

“Thanks, baby.” I kiss her head.

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