The big alpha dragon held out his arms for the babies in Penny’s so she could take off her heavy coat and boots.
She handed them over without any hesitation.
Col sniffed the babies and smiled. “Angela and Erik, you are growing nicely.” He turned and walked off with the babies.
Saul wished he could be as calm on the inside as Col was projecting on the outside. He knew part of it was an act. He was Vraka. He had to remain in control. He had to be the example.
But the dragon prince was warm. He and Naomi both were.
The calmness was a façade. The extra heat betrayed their intense emotions.
“Put the guns under the coffee table.” Penny’s voice was so matter-of-fact, like it was perfectly normal to bring an arsenal to the Vraka’s house.
Penny’s eyes swept the cabin, checking every window. Every door. Every person. She was always watching. Even when she said she was relaxed, she wasn’t.
Saul deposited the guns where she’d requested them and then looked around for Lorelei. She was in the cabin, he could feel the slightest tug from the beginning of their mate bond.
The more time they spent in close proximity the better he would be able to recognize it. Though a full bond would never snap into place unless they were intimate, he was grateful just to know she hadn’t run.
Naomi approached, her arms filled with a familiar pink bundle. Scent let him know it was baby Isabella. He opened his arms and Naomi gave him the baby.
Naomi’s trust meant the world to him. The baby was a source of joy to Saul. They all were, but Isabella was his favorite and Naomi knew it.
The weight and smell of the baby girl calmed his anxious heart, slowed the worried thoughts racing in his mind, and let him take the first fully relaxed breath he’d had in hours.
“Better?” Naomi asked.
Saul smiled and nodded, but didn’t look up from Isabella’s scrunched up face. “Thank you.”
“Lorelei is doing fine. She asked for privacy and I gave it to her.”
He met Naomi’s gaze, worry creeping into his heart. “She doesn’t know how to use anything.”
“I showed her all the important bits. I promise. She will be fine. I told her you would be back shortly and to come downstairs to eat something once she was comfortable.” Naomi put a hand on Saul’s arm. “There’s something off, though. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Her memory is damaged. By magick or by a physical injury, I don’t know. She knows things from a certain point, but can’t remember what happened to her over the last year.”
“She could be blocking it. Trauma. The mind can do amazing things to escape from trauma or grief.”
Col walked up and stood behind his shuarra possessively.
Saul took a respectful step backward, breaking contact with Naomi.
Naomi huffed, but smiled and leaned back against Col’s chest. “Someone stole Penny’s babies from you already? She’s got four, go grab another one.”
He grunted. “Owen and Tara came in the back. They each took one. We need more younglings to share in this tribe.”
Naomi squeaked, protests sputtering from her lips like a carburetor that wouldn’t turn over. “We have seven, you lug! Seven infants between me and Penny! The other women are waiting with bated breath to see what the fertility gods have planned for them.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “No more for a while. Please.”
Col leaned down and kissed Naomi’s neck, an evil grin of satisfaction on his face. Then he eyed the bundle in Saul’s arms.
“I just gave him Isabella to calm him down. The rest of the tribe will be here in about ten minutes. Dawn updated me.” Naomi gently smacked her mate’s arm and shook her head.
Saul smiled. “It is perfectly fine, Mahadhri.” Saul held out Col’s daughter to him and the dragon male took the baby and made a happy purring sound not unlike a cat.
Naomi and Saul exchanged a quick wink.
“I’m going to go upstairs to check on Lorelei.”
“Of course. Let me know if you need anything. I left clothes for her I thought would be comfortable and fit, but she’s a lot taller than me. Ava’s clothes will probably fit better than my short munchkin pants. I told her to bring a couple things too.”
“Thank you,” Saul said, gratefulness warming his heart. He was so lucky to be a part of this Tribe. This family.
7
Lorelei
Nothing was familiar. They said she’d been in this world for over a year. Three hundred sixty-five days. Three hundred sixty-five sun rotations. That’s what the woman, the dragon female, had said equaled a year in this world.
How could she not remember anything?
There were slivers of memories from yesterday. She remembered pain vaguely. She remembered Saul taking her from where her captors, Ka’Lagh warriors, had trussed her up and tossed her to the ground.
Their queen.
Rivian was responsible for all of this. She knew that.
But nearly all her memories were missing or jumbled and everything seemed to be out of reach hidden in a foggy mess.
Her body showed evidence of fresh trauma. Bruises and cuts wouldn’t last long. She healed fast. All Reyleans did. At least when they were well-rested and not starving.
Lorelei climbed out of the bathtub of still-warm water and dried with the towel provided. It felt good to be clean. She didn’t remember the last time she’d bathed. Her hair had been grimy and so oily. Had to have been a long time. Even her skin had been ashy and dry.
Now it was gone.
Cleaned away.
And yet the cobwebs in her mind still remained. The fog wasn’t clearer.
She remembered Tallix. She remembered being in bed with him yesterday, except that wasn’t right. Yesterday she’d been in the forest with the Ka’lagh warriors and Saul had saved her. Saul glowed like the soul call was reaching for her again. But that couldn’t be true. Not unless her mate was passed from the world.
Tallix was dead.
The love of her life.
She’d lost her mate and her world and she couldn’t remember anything.
Dalmeck!
It felt like she’d known these things for a while, grieved the knowledge and losses before, but the memories weren’t there. Not clearly.
“Aaaargh!!!” She growled out loud and slammed her hand down on the counter in front of her. She looked up at herself in the mirror.
It wasn’t her face looking back at her.
Her eyes were red from the tears she couldn’t stop from rising within her. Her hair was clumped together and ratted. She was covered in bruises and healing claw marks all showing different levels of healing.
Bite marks.
Her body was a battlefield of endured pain.
At least she’d fought valiantly. Even if she’d lost. She’d fought. With everything she had, she’d fought. But she was so thin. So worn down. Her face was gaunt and hollowed, evidence of just how long she’d been mistreated and starved. Evidence she could see, but not remember.
Maybe it was better that way, but she hated the emptiness.
“Lorelei?” Saul’s voice called from beyond the bathroom door.
“What’s wrong with me?” She asked the reflection of herself in the mirror.