Page 20 of Delinquent Dette
From one breath to the next, it was as if all joy melted from Frikka’s face as he pulled away. “Leo! It is wonderful you are home. Come. I wish to show you what I have taught Cinder of his magic.”
“Now come here, Dette! We were having the moment!” Sten followed after as Frikka stormed off, leaving him there holding a coin while Leo stared with wide eyes.
“Leo, do you hear that whining noise? It is like the mosquito. It buzzes about, sucking the life out of me.” Frikka waved his hand and pointedly ignored Sten.
Perhaps it was too soon to present a coin. Sten always did, and Frikka always took it but never offered a mark. This time? Sten stood there, gold in hand, watching his love walk away. He’d gotten everything he wanted…
Except for his pups…
Sten pocketed the coin and dutifully followed through the house and into a backyard teeming with children.
There were the nine pups he’d been told to expect, and several more. All of them—Dette and Drake—played with one another, rolling about in the grass, digging holes in a lawn far too manicured for Sten’s liking.
“Sorry, Sten.” Leo patted his arm.
“It is okay. He has his grandpups, and I can watch him be happy. First time in very long.” Sten strode out and caught his son’s gaze, and rather than the rakish grin and jovial mischief they often shared, the greeting was a nod of respect exchanged. “You did it, boy.”
“I did. We did.” Hallr shrugged toward all the pups as Leo stripped and shifted. A gorgeous silver Dette, smallest adult dragon he’d ever seen, joined the pups in mischief.
“How did a Dette that small hold that many pups?” Sten had the good sense to whisper as he met with Hallr.
“He held them very well. He’s perfect.” Hallr grinned, the expression familiar—one of a Drake madly in love.
Sten had been that fool once, still was. “How is your papa?”
Hallr frowned. “There was a lot that you never told me. Leo is special, and he can talk to a dragon like calm over rough waters. He’ll help far.”
“I don’t think you just get over what he went through.”
“What you both went through.” Hallr gave Sten a tight hug.
“Frikka can calm storms and soothe the wind. He can tell the rain to stop and heal the flesh. He sees a future and cannot stop it. But there is a reason why he can calm the storm.” Sten smiled as Frikka held aloft a little ginger-haired Dette child. Chaos glistened in the little one’s eyes. “Frikkaisa storm.”
Chapter Eleven
Frikka
Winter 2023
Sten was a thorn in Frikka’s side, always moping about as if he had no other business to attend to. It made him want to avoid the moping brute, but he was right. No other Drake would have him in his nest. Well, no Drake that didn’t have a death wish.
The Dior Dette, the one black of scale, was gravid. His low, swollen belly would bring three new lives into the world, more dragons—moregooddragons. For as horrid of a Drake that Eamon was, Powel had turned out to be a good Drake. Though, the company that found themselves frequenting the estate made Frikka want to chew his own scales off.
Supposedly, Sten had bought property nearby. Their old estate wasn’t that far off, but that land held terrible memories. Also, Felix was as right of a prick as ever and Frikka did not want to have to have neighbors of those backward Drakes. Though, they did know a Dette’s place.Good boys.
Artur had been a fixture in the old days, coming down from Canada to piss everyone off occasionally. He’d nearly made Sile’s short list, meaning Frikka was free to dispose of him, but alas, he’d come to his senses—kind of. Still, Frikka wanted nothing to do with him. The unmated Drake made his scales shiver. So, while everyone was at the estate, fawning over the out-of-season Dette with three eggs, Frikka skulked about the estate to find trouble to get into.
But trouble found him.Eamon. Dette killer.
The Loch was only one by virtue of having given up the Bhaldraithe name. As he was wealthy and high up within the council at the time, he was immune to Frikka’s wrath. He’d starved a Dette to death, driven one mad, and had his ownDette sons taken from him for fear that he’d do to them what Leicester’s father had done. It was only a small comfort that he’d been banned throughout Europe from acquiring another Dette and banned from leaving Europe, too.
So, when Frikka scented him in the estate, hatchday had come early. Oh, the terrible things he would do to the Drake. Trespassing on his son’s territory, sniffing around unmated Dettes, children no less.
He’d known that Eamon was searching for another Dette, and if he had bets, it would have been a safe one to say he had a hand in Tyler’s situation. Mated and gravid as he was, Eamon would have lost an unclaimed and unaffiliated Dette. A smarter man would have gone to the wilds to capture a crazed Dette if all he wanted was progeny and something to rut with. Then again, some had that very idea, and Frikka had disposed of them quite efficiently and creatively. Sile had banned several of his methods from being implemented ever again.
It’s not a war crime if they haven’t made a rule about it, yet.
His nose led him through the house, down one hall and another and eventually into the garage where he’d been dumb enough to park his off-white Land Rover. The Drake had no taste, trying to show off wealth with a white car. Impressing a Dette needed only finesse, a good nest and a show of strength and character. Not…leather heated seats. Frikka pulled the handle to the door and found it locked, but a lock was nothing compared to old magic.Thuk.The tap of an electric lock satisfied Frikka as he traced his fingers over the handle.
