Page 124 of Heart of the High King
“Yeah, he’s not bad for an amateur,” Brogan said.
“Amateur?” Aleksander asked. His brow lifted and he dropped his hand away from Rafe’s face.
“Rafe’s the first guy you’ve kissed. No worries, you’ll get better with experience,” Brogan responded.
Dra’Kaedan crossed his arms. “I hope you’re not suggesting that he’s going to be kissing anyone besides Rafe. Or that somehow, it’s bad to only be with your mate becausehello, I was completely inexperienced when we met.”
“I wasn’t trying to say that at all,” Brogan argued. “I was just trying to make a joke because he’s new to man love.”
“I can’t with him sometimes,” Dra’Kaedan announced, stalking to the door. “Text me if you need anything. I won’t bring the goon with the lame sense of humor.”
“Thanks, guys, for everything,” Aleksander responded. “And Brogan? Fuck you, Rafe and I got this.”
“Any time you want me to watch and offer pointers let me know,” Brogan taunted.
“Someday I might actually have to kill you,” Dra’Kaedan snapped. “Good night, guys.”
When the door shut, Aleksander could hear the pair arguing as they crossed the hall to their room. Rafe shifted as he sat up to drink his beer, and Aleksander reluctantly allowed some distance between them so he could do the same.
“I’m gonna go in the other room and watch some TV. It takes me a while to fall asleep after a night terror,” Rafe explained and tried to shove off the covers, but Aleksander laid a hand on his thigh.
“We can watch it in here. I don’t mind staying up with you. Do you want to put a movie in or try to find something on television?”
“I don’t care. Whatever. Just nothing heavy.”
“Okay,” Aleksander responded. Pulling up an animated movie with some dolls that discover they’re freaks that he’d enjoyed, he was cuddled close to Rafe as they watched the lighthearted show. There was nothing he could do but try to soothe the many ragged edges of Rafe’s damaged soul. It made him wonder if the strength of his dragon was no accident. Perhaps Fate had selected Aleksander to have such an extraordinary beast because she understood Rafe would need it to give him a new lease on life. If that was the case, Aleksander did his best to send her his thanks, and he vowed to do everything he could to protect his mate.
∞∞∞
Jeremiah Wellsdraconis lived in a paradox. Somehow, the Dark Indigo Duke at D’Vaire had found his ad for virtual dragon training and he’d started working with Mac’s brother, Carter. That tenuous link to D’Vaire hadn’t impressed anyone at Court Wells, not that Jeremiah had expected it to. From the time he was young, he understood he wasn’t liked. The answer to why was, however, still unreachable. His parents were a mystery, and he’d been shuffled from household to household as he grew up.
As he got older, he’d dived into volunteer projects and used every free moment to learn about dragon training. It had disappointed his king, who already had a duke with those duties, and he considered Jeremiah rebellious for his studies. But Jeremiah hadn’t been deterred; he was fascinated by the relationship between man and beast. That moment they became one was powerful, and he’d yet to personally experience it.
With so many hours of his day dedicated to projects, it wasn’t easy for him to make ends meet, but Jeremiah was able to sell some of his paintings and do odd jobs to pay the rent on his crappy apartment. Then one day, Emperor Chrysander met his hybrid mate and asked the D’Vaires who they used to train their drakeling. Jeremiah’s work with Ellery—who made history when he became the first-ever hybrid to survive—had catapulted him into the stratosphere. From across the continent, people suddenly wanted him to call or video chat with their unshifted.
It wasn’t just dragons that wanted his help either, not that Jeremiah cared. Believing his calling was to train, he squeezed in every person that he could. The income he generated finally helped him breathe a little easier when his bills needed to be paid. With less worry over that, Jeremiah could spare more hours to his fervor for painting. If dragon training was his mission, then art was his passion. Jeremiah dreamed of moments in galleries where he could display the canvasses that exposed images torn from his soul, but he was aware those were fantasy and not reality. Art was a tough business, and he had no clue how to even get his foot in the door.
When people asked, he downplayed everything. Even when broached by Ellery after he’d been commissioned for a painting as a holiday gift for High King D’Vaire, Jeremiah had insisted it was part of his little hobby. In a perfect world, his existence would be balanced with both helping others relate well to the living being inside them and his paintbrush. Instead, he found himself locked in a cage of trying to please an entire court of people who now resented him.
Not one person was proud of his accomplishments. On the contrary, he was considered a social climber and was lectured constantly about his grandstanding, which was ridiculous. Jeremiah never spoke of his now dear friends at D’Vaire and the Draconis penthouse. But to Court Wells, he was an insignificant nobody who’d upstaged their own duke. It hurt to be accused of trying to use the people who had grown close to him because of their kindness, and Jeremiah wished he could understand why he was treated so poorly, but he didn’t even have a person to go to for answers.
After a long day of being degraded, even though he’d once again volunteered for everything in his town, Jeremiah turned his phone on and finally found a moment to listen to his messages from the past few days. The new High King had left him one, and he was thrilled. His smile brilliant, he pushed his blond hair out of his face as he dialed the number Rafe D’Vairedraconis had left for him. Carter had filled Jeremiah in on all the details regarding Aleksander’s mate through text messages, which were easier for him to answer with his busy schedule, and he couldn’t wait to meet the incredible man.
“Hello?”
“Your Highness? This is Jeremiah Wellsdraconis. I got your message. I don’t know if I can help you reconnect with your dragon, but I’d sure like to try.”
“Oh hey, thanks for calling me back. You can just call me Rafe, I don’t even know how to be a High King yet, let alone deal with the title stuff. I lost my dragon. I never had a real relationship with him. I was forbidden to shift when I wanted, so I rarely got the chance. We didn’t have the fond connection I understand most shifters do. I’d love to know what that’s like, but I don’t even know if it’s possible to…I guess, invite him back?”
“Okay, well…let’s just start over. We can start at the very beginning as if you were a drakeling like me. Things have changed as the centuries have passed, and when we were spread out not everyone put much stock into it. I’m sorry, I don’t know how old you are. Did you have a trainer?”
“I’m eight hundred and thirty-two. I was trained by my father and brother. I’ve been doing research, and they didn’t do a lot of the stuff like breathing exercises or some of the other more modern approaches. Basically, they just told me to stay focused and be strong, so I wouldn’t die.”
“From what I understand, there were quite a few kings who had that approach if they didn’t have a resident duke dedicated to drakelings. I do think a positive attitude is an important aspect but also centering yourself. Tell me, do you feel your beast inside? Is his presence there at all?”
“No, I feel nothing. It’s not like when I was drakeling and I had that reassuring presence he gave me. Like, I knew when we shifted, I was going to be okay. He was strong. I was a black dragon and that pissed off my family, which turned my pride into shame. So right from day one it was a failure. I regret that.”
“Can I ask why you think he left? Do you feel it was due to that lack of respect for the connection or his irritation and anger at being confined inside you?”
