Page 33 of No Ordinary Drakeling
“Shit, Dame. Did you get better looking?” Costas asked.
Damian gave him a roguish grin. There was no doubt that wherever Damian went, he was the most magnetic person in the room. Not only was his face perfect but his personality was engaging. It was one of the many things that made him so amazing at his job. “Did you doubt that I would?”
The duke patted Damian’s cheek. “You get any better looking and we’re going to have to find a new Imperial Duke so you can get started on your modeling career.”
“Your sense of humor still sucks.”
Barking out a laugh, Costas gestured for them to follow him into the house. “Dame, arrange for a car to pick us up in a couple of hours. I need to get changed for the funeral.”
They grabbed their luggage that they apparently wouldn’t need and followed Costas into the tiny A-frame home. Near the door was a large suitcase and a box that Chrysander guessed was full of mementos. Costas disappeared down the short hallway, and Chrysander noticed the living room had only two medical beds in it. It was spotless and there was a shelf full of hospital paraphernalia. A wheelchair was parked in the corner, and the entire room smelled medicinal to Chrysander’s sensitive nose.
The four Draconis men stood awkwardly as they took in the scene, each of them likely wondering just how difficult life had been for Costas. Minutes later, the duke emerged dressed in a suit, sash, and crown. He appeared weary, sad, and resolute. His gaze found Ellery and he smiled.
“I’m so glad I’ll be home to see your first shift, Ellery,” Costas said.
“I hope I do not disappoint you by shifting into an ugly dragon,” Ellery replied, and Chrysander liked the teasing note in his voice.
“No such thing. You’re ready to make history though, right? I’m going to be pissed at you if Chrys has to light your pyre.”
Leave it to Costas to get right to the point, Chrysander thought, but Ellery was unaffected by his directness. The hybrid’s mouth curved into a smile. “In case you did not know, I am half elf. We are immortal. No one is going to be lighting my pyre. I have every intention of making history.”
“Chrys, I’m not kidding. Fate’s been too good to you,” Costas said. He reached up and adjusted his crown, then let out a long, steadying breath. “Zane. Damian. I’m expecting you guys to hold my hands now that Chrys has a mate. Now let’s go say good-bye to my folks and get out of here.”
Without argument they followed Costas across the backyard to where the entire Court Stavros was congregated and preparing the bodies for burning. Chrysander greeted King Stavros and introduced him to Ellery. With a heavy heart he watched Costas light both pyres, then step back.
Once the torch was handed off, Zane and Damian each wrapped an arm around him. Chrysander stood next to Ellery and sent a wish for Fate to look out for the spirits of Costas’s parents. They had not approved of Costas’s decision to follow Chrysander when he was anointed a kingdom, and the pair refused to take up the invitation to travel to Court Mardas, though he still could not understand why.
Chrysander didn’t want to think of another possible funeral on the horizon and vowed to stay focused on Costas and making sure he’d be all right in the coming days. That night, long after they returned home and got Costas settled into his space which he’d declared horribly outdated, Chrysander sat out on his private deck while his mind tortured him.
The future was so uncertain, and he’d never been the type of person comfortable with sitting around waiting for events to unfold. His hands were tied; it was up to Ellery to do the impossible, and the only thing Chrysander could offer was his support. It was cold comfort and he had no choice in any of it, which was certainly the most frustrating aspect. All he wanted to do was get to know Ellery, and even that was difficult with the demands of their roles. Uncertain how to fix it or how he’d handle his death, Chrysander forced himself back to bed. It was several hours before he fell into a fitful sleep.
