Page 3 of Worthy Promises
“Because she deserves to have what she wants.”
“What use will it be if we are tossed into the street because we can no longer afford the roof above our heads?”
“I’m sure everything will work out.”
“Do you expect a grand pile of money to miraculously appear to aid you?”
“Oliver, there is no need to get upset. The Toivonens have had wealth for centuries.”
“Yes, by earning it and investing it.”
“I know nothing about those things,” his father whined petulantly. “I don’t like worrying about money.”
Irritated by the immaturity of both his parents, Oliver fixed a stern glare on his father. He was a nineteen-year-old owl who’d only shifted for the first time a year ago, but he was far more adult than either of his parents. “I doubt anyone wishes to worry about finances, Father. But if you do nothing, you will gain nothing.”
“Surely you could fix it?” his father asked. “You enjoy figures and aren’t embarrassed by being a man of business.”
Overwhelmed by the idea of trying to provide enough revenue to finance the extravagant lifestyle his parents preferred, Oliver clenched his fists and girded his loins for the task. He had no choice. They had to survive, and expenses hadto be met. Hopefully, Oliver could use his knowledge of art to fix their financial woes.
“I will, of course, do what I can. But I’m hardly an expert in matters of money.”
“You enjoy boring things like that though. It’s a task well suited to you.”
“I can do nothing without understanding the accounts.”
His father smiled and rose. “I’m happy to give you whatever details you need. I’m relieved to no longer have to worry about it. Everything you need is in the study. I should go find your mother and soothe her.”
Without giving Oliver a chance to reply, his father sailed out of the dining room. From past the doorway, Oliver heard his merry whistle. He hoped that meant things weren’t dire and beyond repair. Oliver was a novice at business and far too young and green to be trusted by respected, wealthy men looking to pool investments. Resigned to his fate, Oliver headed for the study and ignored his rising panic and the heavy pounding of his heart.
Chapter 2
1914 AD
Draconis Court of Ethelin
Prince Worthington Ethelindraconis stuffed his shirt into his trousers as he sauntered through his father’s house.
“Worth, you’re late,” Duke Drogo informed him the moment Worth reached the bottom of the stairs.
With a rakish grin, Worth patted his father’s first Duke on the shoulder. “Don’t trouble yourself, Your Grace. His Highness can hardly start without me.”
“King Boian is already angry,” Duke Drogo warned. “He knows you didn’t come home last night.”
“It was my last night as a drakeling. I’m leaving behind the unfettered years of my youth and embracing responsibility. No one would begrudge me a night of revelry,” Worth replied flippantly and rushed past the frowning Duke. Worth’s sole parent, King Boian Ethelindraconis, didn’t approve of partying. He wanted Worth to retire early and rise with the sun. Neither of those things appealed to Worth. Instead of tucking himself into an empty bed by ten o’clock each night, Worth was with his closest friends.
Like Worth, they were young and preferred male lovers. Worth had spent the last nine hours with one beautiful man after another. Relaxed and satiated, Worth was calm as he stalked toward the crowd of people gathered to watch him embrace his dragon. It was difficult for someone to cede control to a dragon, and many drakelings lost their lives attempting the feat.
Worth didn’t plan to be one of them. Since he was a child, he’d taken great pains to connect as fully as possible with the beast inside him. His father thought him too glib and constantly lectured Worth about his responsibilities. Which, according to Boian, included an advantageous marriage and having every aspect of his life dictated to him by his father.
There was no way Worth would enter a lie, and he’d never tried to be anything but attracted to men. That horrified his father. Boian believed relations between two men were unnatural, but he was a short-sighted fool. Worth’s father ignored the Emperor who preferred his own sex and barely acknowledged that Fate existed except when it suited him. In a few minutes, Worth would transform into a black dragon—the strongest of their kind—and it’d force his father to give him a dukedom. Worth would have more than an honorary title, and he'd decide how best to live.
Marriage was out of the question. Worth was a shifter, and they had mates. Somewhere out in the world, Fate had crafted his perfect complement, and Worth would find him. Together, they’d build a happy life. Although crowned a King by Fate, Boian refused to acknowledge the goddess’s role in their lives.
“Worth,” a familiar voice immediately called out. Just an hour ago, he’d been shouting with pleasure as they fucked. “Good luck.”
Worth was close enough to his father to note the deep frown of disapproval on his face, which was the only reasonhe didn’t drag Julian close and kiss the sweet mouth that had eagerly sucked his cock as the clock struck midnight. “Thank you. Meet me later?”
Julian’s smile was coy. “Of course, Your Grace.”
