Page 45 of Zachary

It would be hypocritical of me not to do the same.

I roll over, grab my phone, and do a quick time zone calculation. Then I sit up, pile the pillows behind me, and make the call.

“If you’re in danger, this line isn’t secure,” my brother answers. Affection wells up in me. When I was young, I loved theidea of him, an idea that was pure fiction. As I got older, I hated that same idea. We were strangers who shared the same face when we met, and though we know each other now, I don’t know what our relationship is.

“I’m not in danger,” I tell him. “But I do need to speak with you. It’s important but not urgent, and I’d like it to be a private conversation.” I keep my voice calm. Steffen’s paranoia has been better and better over the years, but it reacts to strong emotion. I need to talk to my brother, not his trauma.

He pauses. “Give me a moment.”

I hear some sounds in the background, low voices, and then a door closing.

“I’m here,” Steffen says. “I’m alone. And the line is as secure as I can make it.”

I smile involuntarily. Of course he’d care about that. “Ideally, I’d prefer to have this conversation in person, but that’s not possible right now. Mostly because I think if I waited any longer, I’d lose my nerve.”

“Are you sure you aren’t in trouble?”

“I swear I’m not. Not the kind you mean. But I’ve been having some… emotional difficulties. For a long time now.”

There’s an uncomfortable hesitation. “I’m not the best person to talk to about emotions.”

I answer his honesty in kind. “I know.” It might be blunt, but anything else would be a lie. Lying to Steffen is stupid. “But this involves you. And… I think you might be the only person who could possibly relate in any way.”

Another pause. “You’re talking about Éibhear.”

I flinch. I don’t often do that anymore, but hearinghisname now, when everything feels so exposed… “Yes. But mostly about after.”

“After?”

It’s my turn to hesitate, to weigh my words. “Our experiences with him were different. Very different. I’m not even going to pretend I can understand what you went through.” I don’t know the details. Steffen doesn’t talk about it—not to me, anyway. All I know is that he was tortured from before he can remember until the day, hundreds of years later, when Wil and Brandt rescued him. It was during those years that his paranoia formed, a trauma response in his brain designed to protect him as much as possible from his tormentors. “But we both had our magic bound. We both grew up not knowing what it truly meant to be a dragon. After… how long did it take you to feel that you were one?”

“Youarea dragon, Ronan,” he growls, cutting straight to the point. “Has someone—”

“This isn’t about anyone else, Steffen. Please listen to me. I know I’m a dragon, and I mourn for all those years of self that I lost. But… sometimes I feel like there’s a different me inside. I feel like all those years with… with Éibhear, with him raising me to fit his own mold, changed me so much, I’m still not the person I was meant to be. I-I feel like I don’t truly fit in with other dragons. That I don’t belong.”

I can hear him breathing, steady and sure, but for a long time, he says nothing. “I will never truly be the person I was meant to be.” The words fall like stones between us, and I wince as I realize how insensitive I’m being. “That doesn’t mean the person I am isn’t me. To answer your question, it took me a long time to feel like a dragon. A lot longer than it’s been for you. It… You’ve come further in finding yourself in these few years than I did in centuries.” He stops, and I take an unsteady breath.

“I’m sorry. This was cruel of me. I—”

“I haven’t helped you,” he interrupts. “I… This conversation is about honesty, yes? When we discovered you existed, I didn’twant you in my life. I didn’t want a brother. I didn’t want anything to remind me of… everything.”

It’s a knife strike, but not surprising. And I can’t blame him.

“I was wrong about that,” he continues, and thatdoessurprise me. “I know I haven’t been the brother you hoped for, but I’m glad to have you in my life. I mourn the time we lost, and that we never got to play together as children do.”

“So do I.” It’s barely a whisper.

“What’s brought this on?” he asks. “What happened?”

“There’s a man here. His family… It’s not like what happened to us. They love him, but the shackles are just as real. I-I wanted him to shake them off and live his dreams, but… then I realized, how can I tell him to do that when I’m not doing the same? I’m tired of being afraid that the wrong step will take it all away, Steffen. I want to be me.”

“He’s special to you.”

“Yes.” The answer falls naturally from my lips.

“Does he feel the same way?”

I think about it, about the soft way Zac kissed me and the way he asked last night if he could visit me this morning. “Possibly. It’s early. And we’re both dealing with other pressures.”

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