Chapter Thirty

Melody couldn’t shake the tight sensation of anxiety that gripped her gut. Or the buzzing excitement that wrapped around it, rippling through her limbs just about every second she was in the same room with the two of them. They had to be able to sense what was going on with her somehow—she knew that much about their abilities. Yet they kept their distance.

Even in the relatively close quarters of her mother’s kitchen, Garen managed to avoid getting too near to her, choosing tasks that kept him out of her way. He barely even looked at her, which she hated, though he kept up an easy banter with her mother.

She found herself losing her train of thought every few minutes, her attention captured by the way he moved with such sure, easy grace, even for a man so big. His forearms flexed as he chopped vegetables for a salad, the knife moving in a near blur and the pieces winding up in uniform slices which he tossed into a bowl. The sweet, pale gold cowlick of his curled above his forehead, a strand of hair falling over one eye, but he didn’t seem to notice. She wanted like hell to reach across the kitchen island that separated them and brush it away, run her palm down his smooth cheek.

He glanced at her briefly and smiled, then went back to his work and his conversation with her mother as though he hadn’t just made her heart stop beating and her breath catch in her throat.

She finished her own tasks and tried to escape, carrying a glass of wine to the open dining area where Alec and Skye sat talking. The experience was no easier there, however.

Where Garen was quiet, attentive, and easy-going, Skye was the opposite. His voice rose and fell with intense emotion over a discussion on what Melody could only surmise was dragon law. As much as she’d love to hear more about it, she was too caught up watching his hands gesture to emphasize his points with no less grace than Garen’s when he cooked.

Skye ran his hands through his hair repeatedly, making it stand up in ruddy spikes. It was a gesture she had learned he did when he was upset, but all she could think of was how soft his hair was and the first time she’d run her own fingers through it.

The memory sent a sharp spike of aroused longing through her. Both Alec and Skye abruptly stopped talking and looked at her as though she’d said something, though she was sure she hadn’t spoken.

“Are you all right, Melody—?” Alec said.

“Fine, Dad,” she mumbled, taking a sip of her wine.

Skye said nothing, but his fist clenched tighter around the bottle of beer in his hand. His gaze fell on her face and she couldn’t look away from the intensity of those bright blue eyes with their deep inner glow. For an eternity their eyes stayed locked. Melody’s heart rate picked up pace and her breathing quickened. Beneath the lingering sadness he still displayed from their earlier conversation was a hunger even deeper than she’d witnessed the last time they were together. She could fall into those eyes if she let herself, and just drift, carried by the undulations of his lovemaking—because that’s what he was doing to her right now, without even touching her.

An odd crackling sound hit her ears followed by a loud ~pop ~that drew her violently back to the present.

Skye cursed and stared down at his bleeding hand, small shards of brown glass sticking out of his palm from the busted beer bottle.

Alec stood without a word and went to the kitchen. A moment later, Garen appeared with a hand towel.

“Faulty container, was it?” he asked with a touch of irony as he knelt down in front of Skye. He took Skye’s cut hand and held it tenderly. He shot Melody a furtive glance, seeming somehow afraid of giving her his full attention.

“Something like that,” Skye said as Garen began gingerly picking the shards out of his skin.

Watching the pair of them together made her insides turn over on themselves. Skye flinched once or twice but never took his eyes off Garen’s face. When Garen looked up at Skye, they held each other’s gazes for several seconds, then Garen bent his head again, blew a soft breath over the cleaned cuts. It was the first time Melody had seen him do it, and she inhaled sharply at the shimmering white smoke that swirled out and condensed over the surface of Skye’s palm as though it were drawn by a magnet.

The smoke itself and the fact that the wounds closed instantly should have surprised her, but she was too overcome with love for the two of them to care about their extraordinary quirks. They belonged together—that much was painfully evident from her simple observation. But giving them up was too heartbreaking an option to consider.

Blinking tears from her eyes she downed the rest of her glass of wine and stood, seeking escape. Back in the kitchen she was faced with Alec and her mother in a passionate embrace and was unable to restrain the surge of bitterness.

“Jesus you guys. Get a fucking room,” she muttered, refilling her glass a little too much but not caring that the wine sloshed over the rim.

She was halfway out the door to the deck when Alec called to her.

“Melody, come back in here.” His voice was gentle, filled with understanding.

She sighed. “What is it?”

“Just … be patient if you can. It’s clear how much you affect them. Any dragon within a mile of this house would be able to tell a lot of strong energy is flying around inside. Hell, it’s affecting ~me~, too, and I’m old enough that it shouldn’t.”

“You don’t know what they’re asking me to do,” she said, her voice quavering. “It isn’t fair of them to make me choose. Mama, tell him—if you had to pick between one half of him or the other, could you?”

Her mother’s lips tightened and she gazed up at Alec, her eyes brimming with love. She shook her head slowly. “No, honey. Especially not now that I ~know~ the other half of him finally.”

Melody turned away from them, her heart heavy. She stepped out into the cool evening air and leaned on the deck railing trying very hard to enjoy the gorgeous sunset that filled the western sky but finding it difficult to focus over the overwhelming ache in her chest.

How could they force her to tear them apart? Didn’t they know it would tear her apart, too? No. She would just as soon die alone as to ruin what they clearly had together—something they might have found more easily if she’d never been around to begin with. They may have given her two choices, but there was a third they hadn’t considered—the only choice she could make and still live with herself.

She continued sipping her wine while her decision sank in. After a moment, a pair of figures came into view across the garden, coming down the path walking hand-in hand. Melody waved and the two women waved back, their faces lighting up with a pair of beautiful smiles. Anya and Viki were another perfect example of a loving couple. The kinds of looks they gave each other didn’t happen in every marriage. Her mother and Alec had something that transcended even that, which was apparent after seeing them together every day for the last three weeks. Today that impression had grown exponentially.

She wanted something like that for herself, true, but more than that, she wanted it for the people she loved. With a deep breath, she stood up straight and walked down the back steps to greet the two women.

* * *

No more glass-related mishaps occurred during dinner, for which Melody was grateful. Likely the presence of their guests helped, but her own frame of mind was definitely calmer than it had been earlier. She still had trouble looking at Garen and Skye, who sat across the huge picnic table from her, but was blessedly able to avoid conversations with them all evening.

Viki was a dark-haired, impish woman. Petite, compared to Anya, and easily the smallest person there, but with the biggest personality. She flirted mercilessly with Garen, who sat across from her throughout the meal.

“Is it true they feed you virgins to make you grow so big?” she asked in a sweetly accented voice that Melody guessed was from somewhere in Eastern Europe. “You are even bigger than Alec! And he is not a small male.”

Garen’s expression clouded for a second, then he laughed, the sound making Melody’s heart pound harder. “There is some truth to the legend, but it isn’t literal. We devour the virgins in other ways.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh.

“Too bad I haven’t been one since the fourth century.”

Melody’s mother choked on her wine and both Alec and Melody reached out to pat her on the back.

“Did I hear correctly?” Julia asked. “I was sure I heard you weren’t a virgin, Viki. How scandalous!”

They had all stopped talking to stare at Julia, but erupted in laughter.

“It is true,” Viki said. “He was a Gothic prince and very beautiful, though not as illustrious or skilled a lover as these men surely are … and not nearly as perfect as my Anya. But I still want to know more about you. The Sárkány—the Dragons, I mean—were legends even to our race. You hide yourselves among humans as well as we do, but without moving around so much.”

Alec interjected. “Oh, we move more than you would think. We just don’t migrate in such large numbers.”

Melody looked at Viki. “Are you a Gypsy?” she asked.

Viki laughed and waved a hand. “Oh, that isn’t what he means. When my people migrate, we fly, just like dragons do. At least, we used to. Now we like to drive. Too much traffic up there lately.” She pointed up into the starlit sky and gave Melody a mischievous look. The air around her seemed to condense and with a graceful swirl of her hand, Viki was no longer there. A flurry of soft, feathered wings rose up into the night leaving Melody blinking back and forth between the soaring falcon and the empty dress that marked the spot where Viki had been a moment earlier.

“Fucking show off,” Anya said, her eyes bright and filled with laughter. “Get back down here!” she called.

The huge bird swooped low over their heads, her beak plucking playfully at Melody’s hair. Melody let out a yelp and covered her head. Finally, the falcon landed on the railing behind Garen and Skye, her wings stretched, showing off the creamy, mottled feathers of her breast. Her wings flapped slowly once or twice more, easily spanning the length of the table and then some and sending gusts of cool air across the table toward Melody. In a shadowy shimmer of air and light, the bird shifted before their eyes and Viki was in her human shape again, perched naked on the wide rail. She hopped down and strode around the table, entirely at ease in her bare skin.

“Does it hurt when you change?” Melody asked.

Viki was still shrugging back into her dress, so Anya answered. “Not at all. It feels fantastic to shift to our Turul form—like shedding a tight outfit and being able to stretch our muscles. What about you three?” she asked the men.

Melody looked at Garen and Skye, who were both nodding. She’d forgotten that Garen had told her he could fly. In fact, it hadn’t occurred to her at the time that they’d have another shape in which to do it.

“It’s a lot like that,” Garen said. “But so many other experiences are better in this body.” He shot a glance at Melody that sent an electric tingle straight to her core. It was the first lingering look he’d given her all night and brought with it every little moment they’d spent together that first week. Every gentle, coaxing touch and caress blazed back, leaving her feeling flushed and breathless.

She tore her eyes away and stood, swiftly picking up dishes to carry them back inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Garen rise to help and cursed under her breath. The conversation went on behind them as he followed her in, but her ears throbbed with her pulse. She was close to hyperventilating when she made it to the sink and turned the water on full blast to start rinsing dishes.

“Melody, I can help,” Garen said, moving up and standing way too close for her sanity to remain intact.

“I can do the dishes fine on my own,” she snapped.

His large hand rested lightly on her shoulder, fingers squeezing. “I don’t mean with that,” he said in a low voice. “Your aura’s been a damn strobe all night. I can help you relax, if you just …”

Tears sprung to her eyes, her throat constricting. She hated how fucking gentle and giving he was. “I don’t need to relax, don’t you get it?” She turned and glared at him. “I need ~you~. Both of you.”

“You can only have one of us, love. None of this was supposed to go the way it did, and for that, I am sorry. It was my fault, and I hope you can forgive me.”

With a gentle tug she found herself wrapped in his warm embrace, crying into his chest. He caressed her hair, holding her while she wept.

“Take a deep breath,” he said. “I’m going to give you a little gift right now, all right?” He gripped her upper arms and held her slightly away from him.

She blinked up into his pale gaze, wishing she wasn’t faced with the prospect of never being touched by these gentle hands, of never looking into those kind eyes. If she could only have one more night with him, perhaps she could go on, but she couldn’t have him without Skye. One night with them both would be ideal.

To her astonishment, he tucked a finger beneath her chin, leaned in, and pressed his lips against hers.

In an instant, all the comfort she had missed sank through her bones. Her sadness seeped away, replaced with a low, sweet pleasure of simply feeling loved to the depth of her being.

He didn’t coax or press, but simply swept his lips along hers in a light graze, capturing her lower lip between his own and teasing until she couldn’t help but open up to him. When she did, she expected his tongue to meet hers, but instead a cool, tingling breath puffed from his mouth and she inhaled. She moaned against him and sank in deeper, her body feeling like was melting right into his. When her legs gave way, he scooped her up and looked deep into her eyes.

“I’m taking you to bed. When you wake up, you’ll have a better handle on this whole thing.”

“N-no,” she said, shaking her head, but the movement only made the room wobble and swirl around her. She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “I can’t go to bed without Skye. Never again.”

“Not with me, or with Skye just now, love,” he murmured, turning the corner and ascending the stairs. “And it should be with Skye when you do. He’s the one who needs you more.”

She tried to object, to clarify her meaning, but her tongue had gone numb and her vision was too blurry and she was oh, so tired now. The softness of her pillow was like heaven against her cheek, but if there were a more blissful paradise than heaven it would be in their arms. She gave into oblivion with that wish foremost in her mind and dreamed of the three of them, encompassed in their love for each other.

* * *

Skye sensed Melody’s receding aura and her emotions faded to the muted din of deep sleep. He finally excused himself from the table where the others were polishing off the wine. He left them engrossed in conversation, making plans for a weekend trip the next day after their work was done.

Work would be a nice distraction, and the physical labor Julia had in mind promised an even better distraction than the normal tasks he performed for Kol. Working for the Shadow was both physically and mentally exhausting, requiring extensive flying—in a plane as well as under his own power—to conduct business for Magnus Securities. His skills as a Blue definitely didn’t go to waste, but it left him wishing for solitude at every moment, and some respite for the constant barrage of emotions he was expected to focus on during business meetings.

He’d wished for solitude until he’d met Melody. After that, all he wished for was to let his senses be immersed in every bit of her. He replayed their last night in his mind—her surprising responsiveness followed by the overwhelming love she exuded in spite of his effort to push her feelings in the opposite direction—and then the sadness that chased him from the apartment as he retreated from her.

What a fucking coward he had been to leave her like that. He’d been a coward all along, even with Garen. Especially with Garen.

The staircase creaked and he followed the sound to find Garen coming down the stairs, a solemn look on his face.

“Thank you,” Skye said. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this. Sweet Mother, it’s torture to be around her without knowing who she’ll choose. Worse is being able to feel how difficult it is for her. We need to find a way to help her, but I’m too tired to see straight right now.”

“I can give you the same, if you’d like. It won’t put you out like it did her, but you’ll be able to relax,” Garen said. “I’d want an exchange, though. A glimmer of willpower to resist her, maybe? Something I should have asked for at the beginning.” He gave Skye a sad smile.

“Sounds ideal,” Skye said, stepping close to Garen at the foot of the stairs and resting a hand on the larger man’s shoulder. They were the same height, but Garen’s wider shoulders and thicker arms always made Skye feel small by comparison.

He rested his other hand at Garen’s waist and his skin tingled when Garen did the same, tugging him closer with both hands. Garen’s pale breath seeped out in smoky tendrils, mixing with Skye’s in a swirl just before their mouths came together and the exchange began. The process was one of the most intimate things a pair of dragons could do, aside from exchanging their Nirvana. They breathed each other slowly, their mouths locked, until the tension began to seep out of Skye’s limbs leaving behind a pleasant, euphoric sensation.

The blue breath he sent into Garen’s lungs was the opposite of what the Guardian had wished for, however. Skye couldn’t outright compel a particular reaction from any other dragon, but only act on existing desires, using the influence of his breath to nudge in a certain direction. ~Away from me, my love. Be with Melody if she chooses you. Let me go. ~

Most humans would cave easily, but a dragon’s resistance could be strong enough to withstand the suggestion. He’d never attempted it with Garen before, so he couldn’t be sure how his friend would react.

Garen groaned against Skye’s lips and the exchange subsided, becoming a full-blown kiss. Skye let his arms slip around the other man, his familiar hard body and warmth welcome after the emotional stress of the day. The waves of need that pulsed from Garen were misplaced, however, and Skye pulled away, breathless.

“I won’t be with you when all we’ve been able to think about is her for the last three weeks,” he said, his throat tight. “You take the upstairs room. I’ll stay on the sofa tonight. Tomorrow, we will have to help her decide.”

“We will need to replenish our energy soon,” Garen said. “Even if it isn’t with her.”

Skye sighed. “I could easily make love to you now, you know this. But not when she’s mere feet away from us. Sleep now. We still have time.”

He watched Garen turn and ascend the stairs again, only slightly more relaxed than before. He remained at the foot of the stairs a moment longer, waiting, following Garen with his senses and holding his breath when Garen paused outside Melody’s door again. A confusion of emotions swelled in his friend—love, desire, sadness, regret—ultimately, his determination won out and he moved on, stepping through the doorway further down the hall and closing the door solidly behind him.