My heart sank. Was I the distraction? If Viol babysat constantly, and this was the first time he’d ever made a mistake, that was the only conclusion I could think of.

  “Um... I can go inside, if that would help,” I suggested quietly.

  He whirled around, shaking his head. “No. You’re great with the kids. I should be the one who goes inside.”

  My brow furrowed. “Viol, wait. You don’t need to leave. We can watch them together.”

  But my disappointment only grew when Viol walked past me, skulking back towards the castle.

  “Viol!” I called.

  “The kids need you,” he called back.

  My shoulders slumped in disbelief as Viol left. I understood that he felt guilty, but why did he beat himself up so badly?

  But he was right; the kids needed me. I quickly moved to the finish line, where they’d all gathered.

  “Where’s Uncle Viol?” Ruby asked.

  I smiled despite knowing I couldn’t tell him the truth. “He needed a break, so he went inside for a snack.”

  I practically saw light bulbs flashing over the kids’ heads. That got their attention.

  “Can we have snacks, too?” Heather demanded.

  I chuckled at their enthusiasm. “You all just ate breakfast,” I pointed out. “But if you’re really hungry after your big race, then sure.”

  “Yay!”

  “In that case, let’s go have some snacks,” I announced.

  The two kids closest to me, Mint and Lazuli, both shifted to human form to hold my hands. My heart squeezed with affection. I felt grateful and honored that they already trusted me as their uncle.

  But as I herded the kids back to the kitchen, my heart ached in a different way. Why did Viol get so upset? And would he have gotten upset in the first place if I wasn’t here?

  I didn’t know what to do. If my presence bothered Viol, I was more than willing to leave, so why wouldn’t he just communicate that? Was he afraid of hurting my feelings? If only he knew that keeping me in the dark hurt more...

  7

  Viol

  I was such a fucking idiot.

  Ruby got hurt because of me. How did I make such an obvious error? Was my judgment that screwed up because Poppy was around? Or was I just so focused on him that the kids’ safety slipped my mind?

  I shuddered, not knowing which option was worse.

  Stewing in shame and disappointment, I trudged away from the trimmed garden path and into the wilderness surrounding the castle. There was a small forest separating our home from the strip of beach behind it. The cool air and scent of dirt were calming, but not calming enough. My nerves were too frayed to relax so easily.

  I kicked a stone out of my way, then felt bad about that, too. Why did I always have to lash out? Even Ruby, who’d been hurt because of my mistake, bounced back from his fit faster than I did. I could learn a thing or two from that kid.

  My thoughts kept drifting back to Poppy. His interactions with the kids were so sweet and gentle. He was the perfect caretaker. In hindsight, it felt crazy to me that my brothers always trusted me with their babysitting duties. They knew I was a reactive nutcase. Compared to Poppy, I was a joke.

  As my emotional state soured, I trudged out of the forest’s shade and into the oppressive sunlight. Gritty grains of sand had crept into my boots by the time I reached the edge of the beach. I stared out at the glistening blue water, trying to calm the hell down.

  Just relax, you fucking asshole, I told myself.

  It didn’t work.

  “Hey, man. You’re gonna bake to death in that leather jacket.”

  There was nothing worse than assuming you were alone when you really weren’t.

  Instantly, my hackles rose as the chatty voice reached my ears. I spun in its direction—just outside my peripheral vision, dammit—and saw Gaius floating on an inflatable raft on the water.

  For once, he wasn’t wearing a disgustingly bright shirt. He was shirtless, relaxing on his back. He sported a pair of sunglasses and clutched a fruity cocktail on his raised knee.

  I swore internally. He was the last person I wanted to deal with right now. I’d been too caught up in my own bullshit to notice him until he’d spoken.

  “I’ll leave you alone,” I muttered, turning to leave.

  “Hey, c’mon,” Gaius called casually. “What’s the big rush? Come and relax, enjoy the waves.” He scooted over and patted the empty space beside him on his stupid raft.

  “I’m not sitting on that fucking thing,” I growled.

  Gaius shrugged. “Suit yourself, my friend. At least have a drink.”

  He pulled a mysterious can out of Holy Drake-knows-where and tossed it at me faster than I could think. I caught it instinctively. The can was plastered in a foreign language I didn’t understand, but judging by the pictures, it was some kind of cream soda.

  “Where did you even get this?” I grumbled.

  Gaius flashed a pure white grin. “I’m a world-traveler, same as you.”

  I clicked my tongue. “Don’t compare us like that. I’m not—”

  “You traveled. I traveled. Hard to argue with facts, no?”

  I scowled. Then I stopped scowling.

  “How the fuck do you know about that?” I demanded.

  Gaius grinned wider, swirling his index finger in the air. “A little birdy told me.”

  My scowl returned with a vengeance. I gripped the soda can hard, then angrily turned to leave. I wasn’t going to feel better by arguing with that birdbrained gryphon.

  “You know, Viol,” Gaius said. “The world is only what you make of it.”

  I stopped abruptly, shooting a spray of sand from my boots. Was he trying to rile me up? What for? Just to see my inevitable pissed-off reaction?

  I spun around, ready for an argument. But when I searched Gaius’s face, expecting a smarmy grin, he wasn’t smiling at all.

  “You’re not the only one who’s seen things, I’ll tell you that much,” Gaius remarked, his tone somehow both casual and somber. He took a long sip of his drink, then added, “What matters is what you make of it.”

  He kept saying that. Was he trying to coin a new catchphrase? What the fuck did he mean?

  “Go on, try it,” Gaius encouraged, gesturing at the soda in my hand.

  His weird comments threw me strangely off-guard. I opened the tab and took a swig. When the cold, sweet carbonation hit my tongue, I had to admit it felt good. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d indulged in a cream soda. But this one had a distinct flavor, being from a different part of the world.

  “You like it?” Gaius asked.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I admitted.

  “Great. Knew you would.” He stretched with a content sigh, letting his free hand fall over the edge of the raft to mingle with the water. “That omega really likes you, you know.”

  “Why are you talking to me about this?” I barked.

  “Because you’re childish,” Gaius said through a grin.

  “Watch your fucking—”

  “Mouth, I know, see? This is what I’m saying. Always so quick to anger. I don’t blame you, though. Sometimes the world and the people in it just piss you off. I get that.”

  I felt like I was going crazy. Why was Gaius lecturing me? I’d had enough of his crap.

  “Why don’t you write a fucking memoir instead of bothering me with your worldly wisdom?” I snapped.

  Gaius stroked his chin. “That’s not a bad idea. But it’s way more work than having a simple conversation.”

  My lip curled in frustration. “Well, this conversation feels pretty one-sided.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  My jaw dropped. How dare that feathered asshole talk to me like that? I cooked up a nasty retort, ready to lob it at him, then suddenly paused.

  Gaius wasn’t the one freaking out. I’d been the fool for taking his bait every single time. I was so worked up and tangled in my feelings that I wasn’t really hearing him. I just wanted to argue because I was already pissed off.

  Releasing a sharp exhale, I downed another gulp of the soda. The cold drink and fizzy bubbles helped me focus on a sensation that wasn’t my own irritation.

  “Fine,” I conceded. “Let’s talk, Gaius.”

  “On my raft?” he asked, excited.

  “Hell no.”

  He looked ready to shed a single, TV-perfect tear. I snorted. He should’ve been an actor instead of... whatever the hell he was. Our Dragonfate Games host, sure, but beyond that, he was just a weird guy who hung out with us dragons. He’d always been around with no rhyme or reason.

  Gaius halfheartedly paddled to shore and joined me on land. He hiked the inflatable raft over his shoulder and held his fancy drink in the other, then nodded at a patch of shade nearby.

  “Then let’s do it where we won’t get burnt to a crisp, eh?” he suggested.

  I didn’t argue. I followed him to a small rock outcrop hanging over the gentle waves, shielded from the oppressive sun by a canopy of palm trees. I shimmied out of my leather jacket. As much as I preferred to keep it on, the heat was too much, even for a dragon.

  “So.” Gaius took a loud, obnoxious sip of his drink. Now that he was closer, I saw the stupid silly straw he was using. “What’s up?”

  “I thought you wanted to talk,” I grouched.

  “How long are you going to avoid Poppy?”

  His blunt question hit me like a truck. I stared at him, too jarred to speak until I stammered, “I’m not—”

  “Avoiding him?”

  “Stop doing that,” I barked.

  “That’s exactly what you’re doing right now. Why else would you be here talking to me instead of spending time with him?”

  The words died in my throat. When he put it that way, there was no avoiding it. I was ignoring Poppy.

  “I have to,” I mumbled. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Gaius swirled his straw around, clinking the ice in his drink. “So, tell me the tale. You met him on your world travels, right?”

  The hairs rose on the back of my neck. That was the second time he’d brought it up.

  “How do you know that?” I demanded.

  “I told you. A little birdie told me.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  Gaius smiled. “I’m not trying to be. It wasn’t that long ago that you told Cobalt you were going out on an adventure.”

  My head swam. Gaius had been in our lives for as long as I could remember, so even if he wasn’t physically present for that conversation, he must’ve heard it from someone else.

  “And that’s when you first met Poppy,” Gaius went on.

  Hearing him say it out loud made me shudder, like I was abruptly wrenched back in time. I was so used to keeping it close to my chest that it felt uncanny to hear it from someone else’s perspective.

  Since Gaius apparently knew so much, I had less reservations about filling in the gaps. Besides, it was somehow less challenging to talk to him about it than my own family. He was a trusted outsider, familiar but not intimate. And if I was ever going to work out how the fuck I felt about all this shit, maybe it’d help to lay it all on the table.

  I steeled my nerves, took another cold gulp of soda, then sighed.

  “Back then, nothing could touch me. I was a dragon with speed, grace, and power. I could go anywhere I wanted, do anything I wanted. I thought I was invincible. And then, three days into my flight, the hurricane hit.”

  The sickly green clouds should’ve been a warning. But by the time I realized my overconfidence, I was too late. The storm had caught me.

  Rain that started as a drizzle transformed into a torrential downpour. Every stroke of my wings became a struggle. The rain doused my scales and kept getting in my mouth. My vision blurred from the relentless rivulets streaming down my face. The roiling waves beneath me were gray, as were the intimidating clouds above, and I couldn’t see the horizon past the aggressive sheets of rain. My sense of direction was utterly fucked.

  I was totally and completely lost.

  But I kept flying. I couldn’t do anything else except forge ahead, hoping desperately to find a break in the storm. The longer I flew into the gray vortex, the more tendrils of anxiety I felt creeping close to my heart. My chest grew tighter with every dragging minute.

  Where was I? If I was closer to home than I thought, could I still turn around and fly back?

  But if Cobalt knew I’d chickened out during a storm, he might think I was childish, or worse, incompetent. I wanted to prove that I was capable of taking care of myself. A little rain wasn’t going to stop me.

  Clutching my bag tight, I surged ahead with a ferocious cry. I was a dragon. I wouldn’t let the damned weather get the best of me.

  I flew for what felt like hours, but in reality, it could’ve been minutes. My sense of time was screwed by the lack of change. Everything, everywhere was gray. Rain and wind, sky and sea. The only splash of color was the purple scales on my wings as they beat furiously against the elements.

  Every muscle ached. My wings were exhausted, and my eyes stung from the whipping winds.

  After what seemed like ages, the storm suddenly calmed. The torrential rain slowed to a drizzle. But still, I didn’t stop to rest. I was scared the hurricane would catch up and suck me back into its vortex.

  I couldn’t stop.

  Still breathing hard, I forced myself higher into the sky. Those wing beats were difficult, given my exhaustion, but the added height meant I could glide for a while—and maybe end up somewhere safe.

  When I was high as I could go, I unfurled my wings as wide as possible, then tilted forward. Gravity cradled my body, pushing me forward without any extra effort.

  I closed my eyes, just to rest for a while, and let fate take me where it would.

  The next time I opened my eyes, the world looked unfamiliar.

  Stretched out before me was a vast, open domain of white. Everything was low to the ground—the snow, the rocks, even the gray-purple hills in the distance. Nothing seemed to rise higher than halfway to the massive blue sky.

  The air smelled different, too. It was dry and cool, a far cry from the island’s humid heat. Cold blanketed everything. There were no potent aromas wafting from ostentatious flowers here. It was all snow, snow, and snow. Sometimes rocks. But mostly snow.

  I lifted my head to the sun. Just like everything else in this land, it was shockingly low in the sky. Not quite as hot, either.

  I grunted and stopped looking up. The muscles in my neck were stiff and sore. The more I moved, the deeper my body ached. I felt it in body parts I didn’t even know could hurt.

  My head felt hazy, too. I didn’t remember landing here. Had I passed out and crashed? How far was I from home?

  Without moving my head too much, I tried scanning my surroundings. The land stretched on forever, seemingly empty. Nothing moved or made a sound across the white expanse. I was in a different world.

  My stomach growled.

  I sighed. No animals meant no hunting, which meant no food. No food meant I’d take longer to recover.

  Then I remembered there were snacks in my satchel. It was slung over my neck and shoulder with a secure harness clasp.

  At least, it was supposed to be. It wasn’t there anymore.

  “Shit,” I swore, annoyed and upset now. I didn’t care about the food. Wolfy was in there. If I lost him...

  Frustration welled inside of me. Ignoring the pain, I raised my head and roared, shooting out an angry burst of fire. The flames dissipated and flew away as tiny cinders in the breeze.

  “Dammit,” I muttered.

  I couldn’t lay there forever. I had to get up and find my bag. But as I attempted to put my weight on my front paws, a sharp pain jolted up my arm. I winced, instantly sinking back against the grass. I tested the other paw for good measure, and felt the same shooting pain.

  My stomach lurched. I was hurt worse than I thought.

  And it was cold.

  This is bad, I thought. My muscles were spent. My wings ached, too sore to fly, and I couldn’t walk.

  But this land seemed uninhabited. That was both a good and a bad thing. Good because nobody would bother me while I recovered, and bad because I had nothing to eat.

  I scowled, shivering as I curled up in the crunchy snow.

  This sucks ass.

  I closed my eyes and tried to fall back asleep. Time would pass, and my body would slowly heal on its own.

  But some time after I’d settled down, my ear twitched.

  I didn’t move, but I was wide awake. I focused on the novel sound. Chuff, chuff, chuff. The rhythmic footsteps of some four-legged animal. Alone. Probably a fellow hunter and not a prey animal. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t eat it.

  The sound came from in front of me, so I slowly opened my eyes. I saw its source immediately. A white furry shape padding in my direction. I recognized it from the two small, pointed ears and long legs ending in big paws.

  A wolf.

  My hunger ground to a halt, replaced by a stirring sensation in my chest. It was the real-life version of Wolfy.

  Well, shit. I couldn’t eat that.

  Unless I got really hungry.

  The wolf noticed I was awake, and halted instantly. Its ears flicked back, uneasy. Its thin chest filled and narrowed rapidly. It breathed hard, nervous now. A freaked-out wild animal confronted with a creature it’d never seen before.

  I thought about calling out to it, but changed my mind. Animals were warier than shifters. I’d only scare it away, and I didn’t want it to bolt before I decided whether to eat it or not.

  So I laid low, watching without moving.

  The wolf glanced warily over its shoulder, then looked back at me. It inched closer.

  When it was close enough to see its face, I searched its gaze. Amber-brown eyes glistened with sapient intelligence.

  I was struck by doubt. Was it an animal, or a fellow shifter?

  The wind blew in my direction, carrying the scent of the wolf straight to my nose. That’s when I noticed it.

  The wolf was an omega.