Hidden Fate

7

From what I’d gathered, fated mates had been commonplace at one time, but as the dragon shifter population had plummeted, so had the number of fated-mate bond connections. What Thorn and I had was rare and must have been even more so since I’d been born human. I had to be reading the situation wrong.

Vlad jumped right in, addressing Theron. “Wyvern thinks you might have a connection that could hide us. Is that the case?”

Fidgeting, Theron rolled his shoulders. “It’s possible. But it’ll take time to set up. I have to make a post.” He removed his phone from his back pocket, the one he’d taken the time to pick up gently in dragon form to bring with him.

I sucked in a breath. “Wait. No. You can’t post that on the Dragonnet. Drake will track us.”

“Wait.” Elliott lifted a hand, his face radiating joy. “Did you f*****g say Dragonnet? I don’t know what that is, but it sounds badass, and I want to play it. I’m totally in!”

Sol’s brows furrowed, and Hydra stepped back, placing a hand on her chest.

Of course Elliott had assumed it was a video game. “It’s an intranet for all dragon shifter communications and where the royals can send out information and video speeches or whatever to their subjects.” I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure about that.

“Oh, don’t forget weddings.” Saphira wrinkled her nose. “They like to broadcast those as well.”

If Thorn’s parents hadn’t been there, I would have given her the middle finger.

She smirked. “That’s what you get for that comment back there.”

She meant the brothel comment about her and Wyvern. I wanted to mouth off in return, but now wasn’t the time. We had serious things to focus on. I’d get the brat later.

Scratching his head, Theron tried to regroup. “This isn’t Dragonnet. It’s a network for the thunders that have injured or differently abled dragons. It’s a communication board on a private server that you have to be screened to enter. That’s why I had to make sure I brought my phone.”

“If you’re sure Drake won’t find out, then sure.” Vlad lifted his hands. “It’s not like we have many options.”

“Okay.” Theron swiped his screen and typed out a message.

After he was done, Errol rubbed his hands together. Our group turned in time to watch Thorn lift the king and carefully place him in the grave.

“I thought we might have a moment of silence to say our goodbyes before we finish the burial.” Errol placed his shovel on the ground and rubbed his hands together. “We won’t be able to take him back to the château where all the royals are usually buried. Mira can’t even be here for the burial of her mate, but his loss is still felt here by all of us.”

As Thorn stood, he wiped the dirt from his hands onto his jeans and reached out to me. He connected, Will you come stand beside me?

You never have to ask, I replied as I moved to his side. He wrapped an arm around me, using me as an anchor. His sadness, guilt, and resentment washed into me as he mourned the man who had at one time been his father and had become one again just moments before his death.

Our group surrounded the hole, each person deathly silent—even Eva, Elliott, and Peter. The birds chirped, and the breeze picked up as if the world wanted to say its goodbyes as well.

I wasn’t sure how long we stood there, but the sky had darkened to twilight, and tears still fell.

Then Theron’s phone dinged.

He pulled it out, and everyone tensed. I’d forgotten that he’d put out that message a while ago.

“Did you find someone?” Saphira asked breathlessly.

Theron rolled his shoulders. “Yes…but there’s a catch.”

“Of course there’s a catch.” Elliott nodded, a slight smirk on his face. “This is like a motherfucking movie, and this is the sort of s**t that happens. Let me guess…a battle to the death, and winner takes all?”

Sol’s brows lifted, and Eva shook her head.

I hadn’t seen Elliott this animated since before Mom got sick. It was odd that something like this was getting him back to being the spunky, weird kid I knew.

Thorn’s annoyance flared through our bond.

“No.” Theron shook his head. “It’s—”

“Wait! Don’t tell me.” Elliott bounced on his feet. “Let me guess. How about—”

“Oh!” Tyson pointed both pointer fingers to the sky. “A race. Fastest dragon wins protection for a night.”

“f**k yeah!” Elliott bobbed his head. “That would require a nightly race. It would be nonstop preparation and adrenaline. Will we have shelter for another night? Who knows? Will Thorn motherfucking—” He paused and blinked. “Holy s**t. What is your last name? I don’t even know my sister’s name anymore.”

Does he even realize we’re in danger? Thorn connected, his hand tightening on my waist.

There was no way to respond that wouldn’t infuriate him further, so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“It’s Hale,” Tyson answered and patted Elliot on the arm.

I grimaced, my stomach roiling.

“Thanks, bruh,” Elliott responded, and fist-bumped Tyson. “Will motherfuckin’ Thorn Hale win us safety for yet—”

“Stop right there with this nonsense,” Thorn growled. “And Everly’s and my last name is not Hale.”

My heart skipped, and my belly fluttered. I still thought of myself as Everly Woods, but we were married.

“Oh, gods.” Saphira huffed. “Now they’re at bruh level.”

“What are you talking about?” Elliott lifted his chin, strolled to Tyson, then threw an arm around his shoulder. “He’s been my bruh for a week. Between the video games and training, we already forged that bond.”

Tyson snorted and winked at his cousin. “It’s a true bruh-mance.”

“Don’t,” Saphira deadpanned and lifted a hand. “I can’t handle this.”

Growling, Thorn stepped away from the king’s grave and toward Theron, tugging me along beside him. He gritted out, “Ignore them and tell us grownups what’s going on.”

“Gladly.” Theron tore his glare from the two young men and glanced around at everyone else. “A woman in the network offered shelter for a few days, but only if Thorn agrees to heal her daughter.”

“What?” Thorn’s pupils slitted. “You told them about me?” Our bond heated, and it wasn’t in the pleasant way that indicated desire.