“He’s fine, as long as he doesn’t lose his temper. He could hurt one of those other kids all too easily.”
Dragos’s voice was logical and matter-of-fact. He sounded like he was discussing the relative strengths and weakness of one of his sentinels.
She frowned at him. He had stretched out his long frame so that he sprawled over three aisles, leaning his elbows on the row of bleachers behind them with his boots propped on the row below.
The afternoon was bright and hot for early autumn, but Dragos never wore sunglasses as protection from the sun. He only wore them when he wanted to put a barrier between him and other people. They sat some distance from everybody else, so he had folded his sunglasses and tucked them into the pocket of his shirt.
Dressed in a plain gray polo shirt and jeans, his silken black hair and dark bronze skin appeared more burnished than ever. His gold eyes gleamed thoughtfully under straight, lowered brows. The only part of him that did not tan was the pale, thin scar that slashed across one brow.
The dragon was a creature of fire, and Dragos never burned, no matter how long he stayed out in the sun, while Pia had to constantly wear sunscreen on her pale skin, along with a baseball cap and sunglasses.
Suppressing an envious sigh, she said, “I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t think it’s fair to judge him on what-ifs. He’s a good, careful boy. If he says he can handle it, I think we have to believe him. We can’t give him the experience of a happy childhood, brief though it may be, if we’re always limiting what he can have or do. He would only grow to resent us, and rightfully so.”
Dragos remained silent for a long moment. As usual, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking by the impassive expression on his hard features. After a time, he said, “He’s advancing faster than we thought he would.”
Unsure of where he was going with that statement, she replied cautiously, “I know.”
Her husband sucked a tooth, the set of his mouth slanting as if he tasted something sour. His gold gaze cut sideways to her. “He’s not going to be a boy too much longer. Maybe we should let him have that dog he wanted.”
“Let him . . .” Her voice trailed away as she stared at him. “But you’ve always been so adamant against getting a dog.”
He lifted one massive shoulder, powerful muscles rippling underneath the smooth gray surface of his shirt. “Yeah, well, I’ve thought about it some more and changed my mind. It would have to be a puppy, from a breed that’s known for being calm, so we can train it not to panic whenever it’s around me, Liam, or any of the sentinels.”
Dragos truly did not understand the desire to have a pet. It was, he said, like how he couldn’t understand Liam’s love for the toy bunny he’d had since he was a baby.
Now, Liam had declared he was much too old for the bunny, although he still insisted on keeping it in his closet. If Liam wasn’t so adamant on keeping it close, Pia would have stolen it from him by now.
She loved that bunny, tattered ears and all. She loved remembering how Liam had chewed on those ears as he was teething.
“What about when Liam’s old enough to leave home?” she asked, giving back to Dragos his strongest argument. “That’s going to happen faster than we could have thought. What are we going do with the dog then?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t know. We can cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Dragos tried so hard. Parenting was new to them both, especially parenting such a magically gifted child. But somehow it was different for Dragos. Pia was younger. In a lot of ways, she was more adaptable.
Dragos was . . . Well, to be honest, she wasn’t sure how old he was. She just knew he was very old.
But he worked hard at overcoming that obstacle. As frightening and ruthless as he could be, he was an amazing father.