Page 9 of Worthy Promises
“You sound as if you know my father well,” Somerly said.
“I’m an Ethelin dragon just like you,” Worth responded. There was no need to get into their shared parentage. It was unimportant. What Worth wanted was to get the hell off Boian’s land, and somehow, this pair had shown up in a vehicle. Adopting the confidence of his youth, Worth ignored his trembling hands and swallowed thickly. “Now, I’m gravely injured and could use a lift.”
“You aren’t gravely injured. You said yourself you only have some cuts and bruises,” Somerly’s friend contradicted.
“It’s hard to tell the extent of my injuries—the pain is too great,” Worth retorted glibly. Both man and beast were pleased at how wonderful it felt to embrace courage. “Now, how far are you traveling? I need a lift as close to the edge of Court Ethelin as possible.”
“Are you running away?” Somerly asked. “We’re headed off the land ourselves. We could drive you.”
Once again, Worth hid his amusement. So much for the perfect son who wanted to do exactly as his father told him. Worth’s respect for his brother increased.
“Somerly, what the fucking hell? Why are you telling a total stranger our plans? Secrecy is vital,” his companion shouted.
“Then perhaps you should stop yelling and get on with it,” Worth taunted. Without second-guessing himself, Worth raced to the car and jumped into the front seat. His brother and his friend were leaving, and Worth had found the perfect avenue for his escape. This was it. Worth would finally be free.
“Great. Now we’ve got some nutcase sitting in my car,” the friend groused. If it weren’t for Worth’s heightened shifter hearing, he wouldn’t have been able to make out the words. Worth didn’t care if they thought he was nuts; he had to take advantage of the opportunity he was unlikely to get again.
“We did hit him,” Somerly said. “The least we can do is give him a lift.” His only sibling was kind, and Worth wondered how he’d kept such a generous attitude after dealing with their father’s bullshit for the past century.
“Get in the car,” his friend gritted out.
The pair raced to the car and climbed in.
“Hope you don’t mind me riding shotgun,” Worth said to his brother. “Seeing as how you’re missing about a foot in height, I figured you would fit easier in the back of the car. I have long legs.”
“Don’t make fun of his height. He can’t help it,” his pal warned, putting the car in gear and creeping along the road again. Worth appreciated that Somerly had a friend who immediately jumped to his defense. For a century, Worth had believed he’d had friends too, but they’d abandoned him after his shift from drakeling to horrid pink beast. They’d used him, and it still stung.
“Were you in an accident of sorts?” Worth asked. Dragons were universally tall. He had yet to meet a man or woman who didn’t hover near or above six feet. Worth himself was several inches above six feet, and it was odd that his sibling was roughly a foot shorter. Knowing Boian as he did, Worth wondered if he’d somehow found a way to control everything about his youngest child, including his height.
“No, I’ve always been short,” Somerly replied. “Lucretia said it’s not genetic, but I forgot to ask my dad what the cause might be.”
Worth snorted. “I don’t know this Lucretia, but you must be a trusting sort to believe any word of Boian’s.”
“Shouldn’t you be calling him King Boian?” Somerly asked.
“I haven’t chosen him to be my King now, have I? When he earns the title, I’ll use it.”
“Who the fuck are you anyway?” Somerly’s friend asked.
“Worth.”
“Worth what?”
“No, that’s my name. Short for Worthington.” It was telling that they didn’t know him. King Boian had successfully scrubbed his existence from the court, and even within his former household, no one recognized his name. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Did his father ever think about the son he’d condemned to a lonely house? Or had Worth died to him that day he’d shifted into his pink dragon?
“Nice to meet you, Worth. You know I’m Somerly, and our driver here’s Lex.”
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Worth said. To his surprise, he meant the words. Not only was the pair aiding his escape, but it was lovely to have at least a few minutes of company with his brother—even if Somerly was blind to their connection. “Now, how far are we going? Your King there is having a party, and this is my chance to get off his fucking land. I’m off to the Council myself, so if you could be dropping me off at a human police station, I’d be most grateful. Be scanning out the window, lads. There are guards about.”
“Somerly’s apparently shit at keeping secrets, so I’ll tell you we’re headed to join the Council as well,” Lex remarked, his fingers curled around the steering wheel with such force that his knuckles were white. Worth understood his nerves. They were racing through him as well as the car pulled farther away from Worth’s house and the grand one Boian called home. “You’re welcome to ride with us to find the humans.”
“It’s the least you can do after mortally wounding me.”
“First it was bumps and scrapes, then gravely. Now you’re on the cusp of death?” Lex asked.
“It’s as I said, hard to tell the extent of my injuries,” Worth commented, trying to keep their minds far from the ideaof being caught. He’d already forgiven Lex for hitting him, but it was too tempting to tease him. “The pain is near overwhelming.”
“You’re a dragon. You’ve likely healed already from such minor wounds,” Lex argued.
