Do.
Oh yeah? Is that why she’s here, naked, and clawing at our back while we break hers?
You.
This is not my fault!
All.
All my fucking fault? You’re really gonna just sit there and blame me and me alone for the reason we’re not eating pasta or pussy for the night?
Yes.
I swear I will-
“Master Draak?” Gene politely calls to me, pulling my attention away from the ancient side of myself I’m not in the mood for. “Would you like me to prepare you something for dinner? Perhaps a pot of Ratatouille to assist in lifting your spirits?”
“I’m not hungry.”
The words shift his eyebrows to the dark sky. “Pardon?”
There’s no hesitation to repeat them. “I’m not hungry.”
“Should I call Lady Draak? Have her meet us in the parlor to inspect you for illness? Is Crane’s Cough going around again, sir?”
“I’m fine.”
Lie.
Grunting at Gold’s point, I add, “I’m just…not hungry.”
Uneasiness deepens in his wide-eyed gaze. “I’ve never known you not to be hungry at all, Master Draak. Even when you were toothless, you were always devouring something. Pitaya. Guava. The occasional coconut in spite of being redirected otherwise. I once had to save you from choking on some breadfruit you swallowed whole when your mother turned her back for a single instance.”
His words stir the urge for a smile, yet it never rises to the surface.
“Would you care to address what it is that’s bothering you?”
I rise to my bare feet at the same time I grunt, “You were there. You witnessed my most humiliating moment to date.”
He reaches out for the trash bag in my possession and flashes me a grateful grin when I allow him to have it. “I was, although I would imagine getting your genitalia stuck in a doosemelon would be a more embarrassing feat than a public argument with your Fated Mate.”
“Would we really call that an argument?” Z unexpectedly chimes in upon his arrival. “Felt more like a daranguing to me.” He shoves his hands into his jean pockets on a mirthful grin. “The ass chewing to end all ass chewings.”
“Master Draak, with all due respect, how is that helping?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I imply that I was here to help?”
Burn.
Gladly.
Blowing out a single stream of fire my baby brother’s direction forces him to stagger to the side but not before I successfully sear the edge of his gray polo. “Mother of Dragons! This is a new shirt!”
“And now it’s a burnt shirt.”
Gold pridefully chortles at my retort.
“Master Draak,” Gene speaks directly to me, “while I understand taking out your current frustration on your happily Fate Mated brother will temporarily make you feel better-”
“So much fucking better.”
“-perhaps you should think about the longevity of things? Perhaps ask him for advice as he is too Fate Mated to a Sleeper turned Awaker?” Our butler adjusts his hold on the bag. “Or if you would like, I could share with you a story of your parents that might offer some perspective.”
“That.” Flopping down into the gold cloth-covered seat, I point a finger at his floating frame. “I choose that.”
“Very well,” Gene begins as Z falls into the chair on the opposite side of the square table. “I was around pre and post bonding. I witnessed and lent an ear to many…relationship mishaps so to speak. One of which occurred that involved a seashell.”
Surprise slaps me in the face. “A seashell?”
“As you know Sleepers only believe seashells to be capable of holding sounds of the ocean, but in actuality, they can hold any sound a Merperson chooses to trap into them.”
“Right.”
“Well, your father – like yourselves – had an active personal life prior to his bonding. His last ‘adventure’ involved a mermaid who gave to him a seashell that contained the sounds of their private session. Its intent was-”
“Context clues cover that one, Gene,” Z rushes to stop more details from occurring.
He presents a nod of understanding prior to proceeding, “Upon meeting your mother, he had me box up and dispose of everything that could’ve been tied to any previous entanglement. He made the pile, and I was left to enjoy the removal process. Little to my knowledge an item had fallen out during extraction. Your mother, just days after their bonding, happened to be the one to discover it. When she asked him about the item, he…omitted a piece of the truth. He told her it was a trinket given to him that no longer had any value. In purposely removing the remaining portion – that it was a gift from a previous physical companion – he caused greater damage when she brought it up at dinner and your uncles revealed what he hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted that information given because he believed he was protecting his Fated Mate’s feelings, yet in thinking so little of her, he hurt her instead. In fact, the damage was far worse because trust became fractured.”
The lump of trepidation in my throat expands wider.
“Trust is a very fragile thing, Master Draak.” He reaches for the single yellow rose near what was intended to be Ana’s plate. “Once it is truly broken, it is never the same.”
Culpability slinks me further down in my seat.
“No mating is perfect, Master Draak. Not even ones assigned by The Goddess of Fate.” His movements still at the same time he adds, “However, it’s learning to love through the imperfections that makes the experience so magical.”
His words hang heavily in the air for only a minor moment thanks to my younger brother asking, “Can you give us a minute alone, Gene?”
He delivers an anxious glance the direction of the table he’s waiting to clear.
“Will you go check on Little Tails, please? Get her a pillow for her head if she’s fallen asleep studying on the couch again? Don’t tuck her in or anything. I’ll do that in a few.”
The suggestion seems to perk him up. “Your mother often fell asleep randomly as well when she was carrying you. You were quite the active offspring.”
“Explains why he’s so lazy now.”
Z shoots me a playful glare that’s followed by our house servant floating away. Once we’re completely alone, he angles his figure my direction, folds his hands on top of the table, and sighs, “I’m sorry.”