Not now, Hall. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d only been on Stonefire’s land for a little over an hour and it was too soon to start guessing her future.
Opening her eyes, she eyed the cottage door and decided the best thing was to see what the other human women said about their time here. Their experience would be more valuable to her than crying or wondering what if.
Unsure of what she should do, Melanie knocked. A faint “Come in” answered and she opened the door and entered the cottage.
Inside were two women. The one with curly red hair and blue eyes was about Mel’s age and very much pregnant. The other one was a little older with long, black hair and dark, golden skin. The woman with the dark hair smiled and said, “I’m Samira.” She gestured at the redhead. “And this is Caitriona. Welcome to Stonefire.”
Mel forced a smile. “I’m Melanie Hall.”
She took a step toward the women when a little boy who looked to be about three years old peeked out from behind Samira’s skirts. Samira looked down at the boy with love and placed a hand on his head. “And this is my son, Rhys.”
As Samira coaxed her son out and picked him up, Mel looked over at Caitriona. But the woman wasn’t smiling. If anything, her vacant expression made her look like a walking zombie. Mel decided Samira would be her best bet for information and looked at the woman holding her son in her arms. “While it’s nice to meet you all, I’m hoping you can help me understand what it is I’m supposed to do tonight. What’s a welcoming ceremony?”
Samira jostled her son on her hip. “We have enough time to chat over some tea.” She looked at Caitriona. “Cait, can you make us some tea and bring out some biscuits?”
Cait nodded and headed for the small kitchen on the far side of the room. Samira motioned her head toward the couches and chairs. “Let’s sit down.”
Mel looked over at Cait. “Shouldn’t she sit down? She looks quite pregnant.”
Samira walked over and whispered, “She’s only six months along. Besides, she likes to keep busy. It helps her to forget her troubles.”
Mel wanted to ask more, but when Samira pushed against her shoulder with her own, she took the hint. Once they sat down, Mel on the chair and Samira on the couch opposite with her son on her lap, Samira said, “I’ll tell you about the welcoming ceremony in a minute. First, what did you think of Tristan?”
Unsure of Samira’s loyalties, she decided to keep her answer diplomatic. “I just met him.”
Samira clicked her tongue. “Come, now. He’s a broody bastard when it comes to humans. You can say so, and it won’t go outside this room. Trust me, being a human amongst the dragon-shifters can be a trial sometimes.”
Mel studied the smiling woman holding her son tight in her arms and decided to trust her a little. “That’s an understatement.” She paused, but before she could stop herself, she said, “I think Tristan hates me.”
“It doesn’t surprise me.”
Mel clenched a fist against her jeans. The other woman knew nothing about her. But Samira continued before she could say a word. “It has nothing to do with you, my dear. You seem lovely. But Tristan’s mother was killed by humans, and he’s never gotten over it.”
She blinked. She’d heard tales of dragon hunters, but like most humans, she’d thought the British government had gotten the illegal poachers under control.
Knowing what had happened to Tristan’s mother put an entirely new perspective on things. “But why are you telling me this? I assume his mother’s death is a very personal thing, and something he doesn’t want strangers to know.”
Samira shrugged. “Everyone in the clan knows about it. There’s no reason to hide it, especially as Tristan would never mention it to a human, even if you tortured him for a decade.”
Wow. To say Tristan had issues was putting it mildly.
Cait came in with a tray and she placed it on the small table between the couch and chairs. The timid woman poured a cup of tea, picked up a cookie, and sat in the chair farthest off to the side. As she nibbled on the cookie, Mel couldn’t help but notice her vacant expression and defeated posture. Quite simply, it looked like Cait had given up any chance at happiness.
Before Mel could think better of it, she said, “Cait, what’s the matter?”
At first, Mel thought the woman would ignore her. But finally, the redhead spoke, her voice not more than a whisper, “I want to go home.”
Cait let out a sob, and Mel went to the woman’s side and put her arms around her. When Cait’s sobs didn’t let up, she glanced over to Samira, who was bouncing her son on her lap to distract the boy from Cait’s breakdown.