Orion was quiet for a long moment, just looking at me. “You want me to trick them.”
“They’re planning another attack on us right now,” I said. “They’ve already killed how many kin over the years? They support the people who killed the last alphas—my fathers. My sisters, who were only seven and nine years old. If any of them surrender, I promise you I’ll treat them fairly. But if they’re going to insist on fighting us, we can either fight back or lay down and die. And I wouldn’t ask anyone to do the second. Including you. That’s why I wanted you to have this chance.”
“Your dragon shifter is being incredibly generous,” Nate put in, his voice just shy of a growl. “As am I as your alpha, letting her bring you the proposition in the first place. Are you going to stay with us or fight against us?”
I shot him a look, and he grimaced but shut his mouth. “Or stay here,” I added, turning back to the muskrat shifter. “If you don’t want to take the risk, I’d understand. Maybe there’ll be another opportunity for you to show your loyalties. This is what we’ve got right now.”
Orion sucked in a breath. “I—I could do it. I think it could work. I can’t promise anything, but I—” He stopped and rubbed his forehead. His jaw worked. “I can’t think straight right now. But I know that I regret not coming to you as soon as they approached me, alpha. And, Serenity...”
“Ren,” I corrected him.
He looked up again, his eyes gone watery. “Thank you,” he said. “For thinking of me. For trying to do right by all of us.”
“Will you try too?” I asked gently.
“Yes,” he said. “For my kin. For my alpha. And for you.”
My throat tightened at the emotion in his voice. “Then I should be thanking you.” I stood up. “We’ll have to let the tranquilizer wear off,” I said to Nate. “He can make a final decision then, when his mind isn’t so fuzzy. I want him to go understanding exactly what he’s agreed to.”
Nate didn’t look enthusiastic about it, but it wasn’t as if we could send his former guard off to consort with the rogues in his current state anyway. When we’d shut the door, he turned to the guard on duty.
“No more shots,” he said. “Let him come out of the daze. Keep a close eye on him. If he shifts or does anything suspicious, restrain him if you need to and call for me. When he’s had time to totally recover, call for me then.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard replied.
“You have your dragon’s sensitivity,” Nate said to me as we headed back to the main floor. “Do you think Orion actually wants to help, or is he just looking for any way to get out of that holding room?”
I thought of the former guard’s watery eyes and the wave of feeling that had coursed off of him at the end. “He really does regret what happened. He wants to be part of the kin again. I can’t tell how well his nerve will stand up once he’s out there with the rogues, of course.”
“I guess there’d be no telling that with anyone.” Nate sighed. “Well, we’ll see how he feels to you when he’s totally awake.”
“How long will it take for the tranquilizer to wear off?”
“A few hours at least.” He paused when we reached the top of the stairs. “So we have a little time. There’s something I wanted to show you here. It might actually be a little familiar.”
I perked up, my uncertainties about our plan momentarily pushed aside by a spark of curiosity. “What do you mean?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
Nate led me through a few hallways and up a broad staircase to the second floor. He opened a door to a large room in what was obviously one corner of the house. The first thing that caught my eyes was the sunlight streaming through two pairs of windows on the south and east walls.
I stepped inside, and my breath stopped in my throat.
It wasn’t just that the room was beautiful, although it was. The walls around the door were painted in reds and golds and glossy greens: stylized animals frolicking through a forest here, an ocean there, and up here by the ceiling puffs of dancing clouds. The designs stretched all the way to the windows, where trees and waves curled around the frames. The floorboards beneath my feet were polished to a shine so soft I almost felt as if I were walking on silk carpet.
I walked into the middle of the room and turned around. A warm, sandy smell hung in the air, like the kind of rock perfect for sunning yourself on during a hot summer day... if you happened to be a dragon. Like the actual rock that lay on the floor beneath the windows. A few chairs with plump cushions and wooden arms scattered the rest of the space.
Yes, it was beautiful. And also deeply familiar. Tears had sprung into my eyes.
“When I imagined bringing you to my home for the first time, I pictured the visit being a little more relaxing,” Nate said. “But at least before we go you can spend some time in here. It was your mother’s favorite room in the estate.” He took in my expression. “You remember it.”
“Yes.” I sank onto the stone slab. The sun-drenched warmth of its solid surface spread up through my hands. “She would bring me and my sisters in here when we complained about being bored. Sometimes my father—my bear shifter father—would come with us. What did she call it?”
“The inspiration room,” Nate said with a smile. “The first time I met her, she called for me to meet her in here.”
“Even though I couldn’t shift yet, I loved lying on this rock.” I eased myself down on my side, soaking up the stone’s heat and the beams streaming through the windows. “Sometimes she’d curl up around me here. All four of us would squeeze in together, or five if Da was there...”
I swallowed hard. Nate’s expression softened. “You don’t talk about them very much—your fathers and your sisters. You can, you know. I mean, if it’s too hard, you don’t have to. But if you want to talk to someone who remembers... I trained with your bear shifter father for four years before the attack took him. I didn’t know you or your sisters well, but I remember watching you playing in the courtyard when you were visiting.”
Watching us and wondering which of us would become his mate? And now here I was. The only one of my entire family left.
I swiped at my eyes and pushed myself back into a sitting position. “It is hard. Not just because it hurts, but also because... The memories don’t come easily. I don’t think there’s any magic suppressing them now, but when it’s been so long since I’ve practiced remembering them—I don’t know where to start unless I see or feel something that triggers them.”
Like that embarrassing breakdown when we’d first arrived. My face still heated at that memory.
But this place provoked better ones. I found, with an ache in my throat, that I did want to share them. To make them more real by conjuring those dead and gone.