A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)

“This is what you woke me up for?” Randall asked Morgan.

“If I have to deal with this, then so do you,” Morgan said.

“And all because Morgan agreed to this!” I said.

“I didn’t.”

I glared at him.

He stared right back.

“Fine,” I said, conceding. “I believe you. Mostly.”

He rolled his eyes. “How fortunate for us all.”

“But don’t think you’re off the hook yet for lying to me all this time,” I said, pointing my finger at him. “Because we’re gonna have some words. You can count on that.”

“I look forward to it with bated breath,” Morgan said, a smile twitching on his face.

“Good. So. Why is she here? Why now? And I will remind everyone in this room that no one is allowed to use the word destiny at any point. Ever. Or a euphemism for it either. Vocation. Calling. Purpose. None of it, because that’s stupid and I hate it, and you should all hate it too. If you persist, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

I didn’t miss the look exchanged between Morgan and Randall. Neither did Ryan, as he stiffened beside me. He was a warm line of comfort at my side, and even though our hands were slightly sweaty, there was no way I was going to let him go.

“There have been… whispers,” Morgan finally said.

“Whispers,” I repeated. “That’s what you’re going with.”

“My gods,” Randall said. “Remind me to give you more credit for everything, Morgan. I don’t know how you haven’t murdered him by now.”

“Rumors, mostly,” Morgan said. “Of a man. Superseding all ranks of the Darks.”

I was confused. “The Darks don’t have ranks,” I said. “Isn’t that kind of what makes them the Darks? They’re scattershot.”

“They seemed rather united in coming after you,” Randall pointed out. Which, okay. That was fair. But the ones that had were either vanquished or imprisoned, spread out all over Verania.

“Like Lartin, then?” I said. “Is that who he is?”

“We don’t know,” Morgan said. “No one does. Again, Sam, this could all be nothing.”

I watched him closely. “But you don’t think it’s nothing.”

“I think,” Morgan said slowly, “that Vadoma wouldn’t be here if she didn’t think it was important.”

“Do you trust her?”

“No,” Morgan said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe her.”

“And why should we believe her?” Ryan asked. “Why should we be doing anything she wants us to do?”

“When she touched Sam,” Morgan said, “against the wall, he said he had a vision.”

“Did I?” I said, playing dumb.

“Of a white dragon. A great white dragon.”

Randall’s eyes widened slightly before he schooled his face. It was quick, barely there. But I caught it. It didn’t make me feel any better.

“Maybe,” I conceded.

“And then there’s Kevin. Who is also a dragon.”

“Kevin,” I snorted, trying to cover my unease. “If you could even call him that. He’s more like a perverted lizard with wings.”

“Be that as it may,” Randall said, “before you, no one could speak with dragons.”

“Dragon,” I said. I was slowly losing control of this conversation. I knew the dreaded D word was on the tip of someone’s tongue. “As in singular, not plural. Nothing else. And for all we know, it’s just a byproduct of my magic. Like you teleporting or Morgan’s eternal patience in having to deal with you.”

“You can’t know it’s just the one,” Randall said, ignoring my jibe completely. “Because you’ve never come face to face with the others.”

“The dragon in the desert,” Morgan said.

“The mated pair in the Northern Mountains,” Randall said.

“And the Great White in the Dark Woods,” Morgan said, “who you already seem to have made contact with.”

“Don’t you dare say it,” I ground out.

“Holy shit,” Ryan said, sounding breathless. “You have a Destiny of Dragons!”

“He capitalized it,” Randall said.

“It must be true now,” Morgan agreed.

Fuck my life.





Chapter 7: The Boner Carriage to Holy Fuck Me Town


TWO DAYS later, I’d still refused to come out of my room. The door was locked, a chair shoved up underneath the handle, and I was pretty sure I was leaking enough magic to create a barricade I didn’t even think about making on my own. All in all, it was very effective in keeping out the riffraff, which was essentially everyone I knew. It also meant I didn’t have to hear about any destiny of dragons (not capitalized, thank you very much!). It wasn’t the most mature way of dealing with things, but it was the only thing I could think of where I could avoid everyone and just focus.

The problem with trying to focus was that it was Gary and Tiggy’s turn to try and get me to come out. They traded out in shifts that usually lasted a few hours. Each had their own specific tactic. Randall said he would give me another day before he teleported inside my room nude. Morgan told me that he hadn’t even said the word, so I should just let him in. Mom and Dad laughed at me, then apologized for laughing, then laughed some more, reminiscing about how I used to lock myself in my room whenever I got mad at them, and how reassuring it was that I acted the same at twenty-one as I did when I was six. The King told me that I could stay in there as long as I needed to, but then in the next breath said that he would decide how long that should be, and if we disagreed, I’d be pooping in a bucket in the dungeons for at least a month. Justin would bitch that he didn’t even care if I ever came out, that I could stay in there forever as far as he was concerned, which touched me deeply, as it felt like we were brothers from different mothers. Kevin tried to fly up to the windows in my room, but I shuttered them all while he scolded me that no sexy son of his would treat him like that.

Ryan had been conspicuously absent. As had Vadoma and her Wolf.

Gary and Tiggy, though?

I was going to murder them.

“—and then she said— You’re not going to believe this, kitten. You want to know what that bitch said to me?”

“What she say?” Tiggy asked.

“She said, Bitch, you ain’t gonna get my man. And then I said, Bitch, I ain’t even goin’ after your man, but if I was, I’m sure I could totally get him because, girl, you nasty. And then she said, I ain’t nasty, you’re nasty.”