Page 18 of A Story of Mates and Temptation

Using my tiptoes, I lean up to brush my lips across his. “Find me soon and don’t spend too long arguing.”

Avaluna opens the door for me, and Calix gives me a pleading look to save him, which I ignore as he threw me to the wolves alone earlier, and we head straight into the town. It’s quite busy, and both of us decide to put our hoods up and keep to ourselves. My red hair already attracts enough attention, and I haven’t seen anyone else with red hair at all.

“I heard that you’re sleeping in Calix’s hut.” I keep my voice low. “Hettie mentioned it.”

“Listen, I’m going to need alcohol for us to have this discussion,” Luna replies with burning red cheeks, barely hidden under her dark hair. “But for now…he is my entwined mate, too.”

My eyes widen. I barely hold in a cheer, but my smile hides nothing. “Congratulations on the gift. I knew you two were something special.”

“Thank you. We haven’t…” She looks away and clears her throat. “I’m not ready for that yet. I don’t need to ask whether you and Ziven are sleeping in the same hut, because everyone hears the floor shaking multiple times a day—and night, I might add.”

My cheeks burn. “We need alcohol—definitely for this.”

She laughs, resting her head on my shoulder. I’m hit with a longing for Catherine, and every day, I think about her and just wonder. Is she dead? Is her dragon? I’m missing Ruelle, too. I still can’t believe she’s gone. When Ziven told us, we all gathered together to mourn. Hettie burst into tears, and I was barely able to hold back my own, even though I wasn’t as close to her as Hettie was.

I held her all night as she wept as she lay in bed between me and Ziven until she fell asleep sobbing. She’s still quite upset, and I don’t know how anyone will fill the void in her life that Ruelle left. We’ll have a funeral for her when the war is over, along with the funerals for all the dead fae that we have lost. Mazzis. I miss him and I can’t think of him dying with the books I loved so much, too. There aren’t many books in this place, and the twenty-odd Ziven found are about nothing that interesting. I’ve read three of them so far, and Hettie is reading them straight after me. Twenty books…I took the library for granted.

We head into the only bar in the entire town. It’s a huge room that’s slightly below ground, filled with small tables and stools pressed against them. It’s packed full of people and it smells like them too, mixed with the heavy stink of spilled drinks, which has made the floor sticky in places.

It takes us a while to get through the fae to the bar, where we order two drinks. Their idea of alcohol is some green floaty liquid that’s very strong. “Calix warned me this stuff could get you drunk in a matter of three drinks, which he thought was impressive. The stuff they had in the mansion required at least three bottles to make him tipsy.”

I nod, barely hearing Avaluna over the noise of this place. We take our drinks, go back, and start looking around for a table at the edges of the room where it is quieter. We find one, but it’s already occupied by someone in a green cloak, her slender hands wrapped around a pen as she scribbles in a notebook.

“We could just ask her for the other two seats?” I suggest, not being able to tug my eyes from the woman at the table. There is something about her that feels familiar. She lifts her head and my drink slips out of my hand, smashing to the floor.

Maeve is in my mind instantly. “Are you well?”

I don’t notice the people looking at the drink on the floor. I don’t feel Luna touching my arm or hear her asking what is wrong. I don’t hear anyone as my mother’s forest green eyes find mine, and we both just stare at each other. She pushes her hood down, her dark red braid falling over her shoulder, and I can’t breathe as she stands up, comes around the stools, and slowly walks up to me.

She peels my hood back and tucks my hair behind my ears the way she always has, touching the black tips, and a sob echoes out of her throat. “Story,” she whispers. “My Story.”

The second time she says my name, it feels like it belongs to her in a way only a mother can claim her child. “Mum,” I whisper back before throwing myself at her, and she catches me as Ibreathe in her scent, as I take in the fact my mother is alive. I haven’t seen her since I was fourteen years old, when she fought tooth and nail to make sure I had a good vampyre master. This is my mother, who brought me up like we didn’t live in a breeder’s camp, like we weren’t lessborn, and she tried everything to make sure I had a good life. She holds me, tightening her grip, and it’s as if there haven’t been years between us. I cry, holding her as tightly as I possibly can as she cries too.

I don’t know how long it is before she pulls back, looking into my eyes. “Story. How…how are you here?” She cups my cheek. “You’ve grown up so much and you’re so, so beautiful. Deities above, you look like your father. I see him now.” She raises her other hand to my other cheek. “Am I dead? Is this a gift from the deities?”

“We aren’t dead, mum.” My voice is trembling. “But deities have blessed us.” Her smile is so big and I don’t think I’ve seen her smile like this before. I realise I’ve never seen her free, either. Avaluna is awkwardly standing at my side as my mum lowers her hands, but she stands close still. “This is my close friend, Avaluna.”

“A pleasure.” She nods to her. “How are you here, Story?”

“I could ask you the same. I honestly assumed you were dead, mum,” I admit. Her eyes are on my hands, on the dragon markings she can see there.

“I thought I was too. Come, come and sit with me,” she asks, pointing to the table. “And explain to me how you became a dragon rider.”

Maeve. I send an apology to her for scaring her with my feelings, but she only sends warmth back, and a hint of sadness. Shelost all of her family, and this joy must be difficult for her. “By fighting for her, by being the daughter you raised.”

“I’ll go and get us another drink,” Avaluna suggests, putting her drink down on the table, her eyes wide as she meets mine.

“Thank you.” I nod to her.

I step over the broken glass, wincing at the mess. I can’t clean that up right now before I sit down, and mum holds my hands across the table.

“You tell me what happened to you,” she demands and somehow makes me feel like I’m ten years old again. “You were given to a kind vampyre friend, but then his house was burnt down. Everyone assumed you were dead. I assumed you’d died, but in my heart…” She pauses, searching for the words. “I felt like you were alive. I tried searching for you. I made deals with every vampyre I could to try to find you, but no one had heard anything. No one knew. I had to accept that you were probably dead. But I couldn’t do it—couldn’t believe it was true.”

“Keep telling me everything,” I ask, because the moment I tell her mine, things are going to change. I can see it in her eyes. She’s full of hope, love, and laughter right now—everything she always tried to be around me. She never let the harsh world touch me when I was a kid. I owe her so much for that. Parts of my childhood—the memories of her—are the only things that kept me alive for so long. She kept me alive.

“I got attacked by a vampyre royal guard when I was with Blaire,” she begins, her voice trembling. “He killed her, drained me and threw my body into the river. I don’t know how or why, but I was found by some people by the coast. One of them was a healer. They were escaping the city, and they took me withthem. They said they felt this calling here, and we just followed tunnels. Endless tunnels. Until we found ourselves here.”

Blaire is gone? Kyrell would have been devastated to know that, but in a way, I’m happy they are together now.

---