Origin Exposed: Descended of Dragons, Book 2

D
edication

T
o
Brock

whose love and support of me, my writing, and our family
is more epic than any fantasy put to paper.

W
here would
I be without the kind, patient, and generous author Brinda Berry? Locked away somewhere crying on my keyboard, that’s where. Thank you, Brinda, for your innumerable answers to my endless questions. Thank you for reading and improving my books. Thank you for sharing your experience and expertise. Thank you for bracing the wings of fledgling authors like me.

Thanks to Lacey Thacker for an editing process that didn’t make me cry. You made it fun; are so supportive, and I appreciate you and your work.

Thanks to author Kathleen Groger for lightening-fast and razor-sharp beta reading.

To fellow authors Megan Mitcham and Lindsay Cross: I can’t thank you enough for your immeasurable support through this process. I value our friendship, our writing retreats, and our girl time so much.

And thanks to my mom, Belinda, for reading and loving these books. Your unconditional support makes me feel invincible, and I sure need that some days.

I
sat wrapped
in Rowan Gresham’s strong arms thankful for my life and his.

His warm skin was a welcome contrast to mine as I pressed my cheek to his chest and absently nuzzled his wide shoulder.

But my efforts to relax, to relish the comfort and security Gresham’s presence lent were useless. My bare legs trembled to the beat of an erratic heart. What started as a light tremor grew stronger until the physical manifestation of my shock intensified to a full-blown shake. I snapped my knees together and wrapped my arms around them. If the traitorous things insisted on vibrating, I would constrict them into serenity.

My plan didn’t work.

I was a ragged mess from the aftermath of the fight with Brandubh, and bewildered to learn not only did I
have
living relatives, I was descended of dragons who were feared, hated.

And my father—about whom I’d sought information my entire life—was a magical breed I’d never heard of: an
omni.
It was urgent I learn more about him, as well as the dragons. It just so happened I had a captive audience of three such dragons.

But as I scoured the mountainous crater in which they’d been imprisoned for centuries, I found no one. My stomach seized at the realization Gresham and I were the only two left on the rocky battlefield. The Drakontos dragons had traced away as we celebrated our victory over the powerful sorcerer Brandubh.

“Gresham.”

“Hmm?” He had recovered quickly from the fight, and was nuzzling my neck. His breath was hot on my collarbone and his hand crept dangerously close to my naked ass.

“Gresham,” I said. “The dragons are gone.”

His dark head snapped up, amber eyes wild as they bounced around the crater. He jerked his hand from me in confused horror.
Like I’d put it there
.

“Dammit,” Gresham growled and stood to his full height. “Dammit!” His curse reverberated through the cratered mountain’s interior, echoing his frustration. He squeezed his hands into tight fists at his sides, and stopped pacing long enough to stomp a foot. “I can’t believe I let them get away.” Gresham’s every move was rigid with anger. “He’ll have my job for this. My job, hell,” he spat, “he’ll have my head. And rightly so. I had four of Thayer’s prime enemies in one place and let them escape. Right under my damn nose.”

“Well, that’s not really fair, Gresham,” I said. “You were knocked unconscious. Brandubh nearly killed us both. He may have gotten away, but just barely. And he must be badly injured if the dragons were able to trace away and escape him.”

“He’ll heal. They’ll heal,” he said, kicking a pile of rocks that sent stone and dust flying in a wide arc. “I had them all here and could do nothing. I couldn’t use my magic, couldn’t trace. It was stupid to come here alone with you. I underestimated him and inflated my own ability. Dammit!”

He stopped pacing and looked me up and down, a scowl replacing his handsome features. A snarl gathered his lips into a bitter pinch. “I continue to make poor decisions where you’re concerned, behaving like a teen-aged boy trying to impress a girl.”

On some level I preened with pleasure to hear the enigmatic man admit he lost his senses around me, that he wanted to impress me. I’d longed to wow him since the moment I first saw him. But I was also wary of the admission. Rowan Gresham was sharp, and not just intellectually. I feared if he suspected his feelings for me compromised him he’d have no reservations about cutting me off.

Gresham continued to curse himself, stomping aimlessly within the crater and mumbling as he stabbed his hands through the hair at the sides of his head.

I tried to deflect some of his stress, and to curb the overly-dramatic self-deprecation by pointing out the things we had accomplished. “We may not have captured Brandubh,” I said, “but we learned a lot that could help the authorities. Not only is he still very much alive, but his interest in ruling—or destroying—Thayer still exists.”

Gresham’s eyes compressed to a tight squint. “You’re saying that like it’s a good thing.”

“No…I mean… We learned about his sick dragon-breeding plan. We stopped it. And because we injured him so badly, his remaining dragons were able to escape. He has nothing now.”

“Oh, Brandubh will always find a way. Dragons or no, he’ll never stop.” Gresham stopped his pacing to face me. “I know you’re trying to find the positive in the situation, Stella. But let me tell you how the leader of Thayer, the people of Thayer, will see it. I was the first one to see Brandubh in centuries. I stood within feet of him, fought him. Not only did I
not
capture him, but a little girl fought him for me. I allowed him to escape.
And
I failed to discover where he’s been hiding all these years.”

“I think you’re taking this far too personally,” I said, but he ignored me. His rant amped even louder, his voice booming throughout the cavernous space.

“I discovered that three of the dragons responsible for the Steward Massacre—until now thought eradicated—are alive. I didn’t capture them. No, I allowed them to escape, too, and have no idea where to begin looking for them. Worse, the dragons know I know they exist. They’ll assume we’re coming for them and go into hiding. Or come for us first.”

I crept toward him and reached to console him, but he jerked away before I could touch him. “Why are you acting like it’s your sole responsibility to save Thayer?” I asked. “I mean, sure, we’re taught at Radix we’re supposed to defend our home, but it wasn’t your job alone, Gresham. You fought Brandubh; you nearly had him. I injured him, and we cost him his most valuable weapons. Not a bad day.”

“Stella,” Gresham said, his face crumbling into a tortured mask, “it
is
my job. I’ve been protecting the people of Thayer since long before you were born.”

“But...” I paused, trying to comprehend. “What do you mean? What’re you saying?”

Gresham slammed his eyelids shut. He clenched his teeth with such force I saw the muscles working in his square jaw.

“Gresham? You said you did ‘special projects.’ I knew you were being intentionally vague, but…what…what are you saying?”

He let out a ragged breath and found my gaze. His eyes were pained. Shamed. “There is much I didn’t—couldn’t—tell you at first. I should’ve told you when you first found your wolf, but by then I felt such guilt. And I was shocked to find that I
gave a damn
, Stella. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in your eyes. I knew you’d find out eventually. I’m surprised it took this long. It only did because you’re an outsider and your friends are all primos. I thought for certain the Redfern girl would recognize me from my dealings with her father, or one of those boys you associate with would piece it together.”

Blood rushed to my face, my ears. I heard white noise, a faint but consistent background to our conversation.

“What the hell are you talking about, Gresham?” My voice rose as I grabbed at his arm and pulled him around to face me. “Tell me what?” My face was fevered and I felt the familiar sting of tears.

“Stella,” he said reverently, smoothing the auburn hair back from my face. He bent to run his dry lips across mine before he said, “My position is director of defense. It’s my job to eradicate threats to Thayer.”

A burst of air escaped my parted lips and I lay a hand on my heart to make sure it stayed within my chest. I was so shocked I couldn’t take a full breath and sucked short, inadequate gasps of air.

My mind scattered in a dozen directions.

I tried to recall what Gresham had said to me over the course of the weeks I’d known him. I tried to process what I knew of Thayer, of Radix, of alternate forms. Why would someone as important as the Director of Thayerian Defense pursue me? Why would he become my unofficial guardian, injecting himself in my life as a mentor, a friend…a lover? What could he possibly have to gain from his association with someone like me who wasn’t of this world, who didn’t even know who she was?

The answer hit me like a kick to the chest. I stood heaving, trying to gain control of myself, trying not to completely fall apart. My heart physically hurt at the betrayal, and the tears that had been taunting me finally spilled over and fell hotly onto my cheeks. I bent over and held my middle, a nauseated mass.

Gresham was calling my name, but it seemed so far away. “Stella? Stella, no. No. It’s not like that.” He spoke almost frantically and rushed to my side.

I jerked from him, but was so off balance I had to extend my hand for support. My knees were weak and there was nothing on which to anchor, so I listed clumsily sideways before catching myself.

I closed my eyes and took several slow breaths before attempting to speak again. Nothing came. I cleared my throat, attempted to clear my mind and aimed for composure, but all I really wanted to do was crumble into a heap in the dirt.

I cursed myself for my naivety, my inexperience, my ignorance. I felt stupid and small.

But after a lengthy interlude of self pity, my mind kicked into gear, and in a moment of clarity—or self-preserving procrastination—it struck me that Rowan Gresham never talked about himself. He certainly never offered details. If he was in a mood to share it would be smarter to save my grief for later, to put my own feelings on hold and hear what he had to say. And so, despite the fact that my heart felt like artisan glass that had splintered with a thousand hairline fractures, I took advantage of the situation. If he was willing to talk, I would listen and endure the pain of his words. I steeled myself for the worst.

“It’s not like what, Gresham?” I asked. “That you weren’t watching me from the very beginning, that you weren’t monitoring my every development?”

His chiseled cheeks filled with air before he blew it out and closed his eyes. It was obvious he’d rather skip this part. “In the beginning, sure,” he admitted. “But it was my job to learn more about you; it was my duty to my people. I—”

“Your people?” I interrupted. “
Your
people? Thayer’s my home now, too, you know. Are you telling me you found me, brought me here, helped me with school, with my metamorphosis…all to spy on me?”

His brow furrowed in frustration. “Well, when you put it like that it sounds worse than it was, Stella.”

“Put it like that?” My voice was loud. Hard. Angry. I had left feeling injured in the dust and was fast approaching enraged. “How else can I put it? It’s pretty damn straightforward. And what about the rest? We very nearly slept together. You took advantage of me, knowing the whole time you were using me. You’re an assho—”

“Took advantage of you,” Gresham scoffed. “You made the first move that night in your room. Do you know the restraint it took to allow you to straddle me for hours and not take you then and there? You’d mounted me already; we were halfway there. I knew you were attracted to me. You’d wanted me for weeks.”

“Oh, you couldn’t possibly,” I sputtered. Gresham was always so bold when he talked about sex. He had used that bravado to intimidate me, to infuriate me, to seduce me. I wasn’t sure what his intention was at that moment, but I felt all three.

“I sure as hell could know,” he said with a smirk. “And did. Yet I made no move. But you—you woke and rubbed me like a wanton cat. You kissed me like you’d die if you didn’t have me, and rode me through our clothes until I thought
I’d
die. Thank god we were interrupted.”

Gresham was delusional if he thought he was blameless. I recalled the thoroughness, the possessiveness with which he kissed me in my room. “What about after the attack on Caraway Manor?” I said. “You certainly took charge then.”

“After you handed it to me steaming on a platter. The entire room was filled with your desire. No man could walk away from that, Stella. And yet I did, if you’ll recall.”

I recalled all right. Fragments of Gresham’s thoughts had run through my mind the last time we’d been intimate.
Wrong
.
Stop
.
Truth
. Soon after he pulled away from me and left with a hoarse “I’m sorry.” We hadn’t talked about it since.

He shook his head. “I haven’t taken advantage of you and you know it.”

“What we did physically isn’t the point, Gresham. I’m not saying you robbed some virgin of her propriety. I know who and what I want. I’m a big girl with a big girl appetite. I did want you. Hell, I still do, and don’t think I don’t know how screwed up that is.”

“Then what is the point? Get to it, so we can go home and get to what we both want.”

I laughed, but it held no humor. “That is so not going to happen because the
point is
you got close to me, befriended me, seduced me. You encouraged me to trust you, to depend on you, and somewhere along the way I started to have feelings for you. And you let me, knowing all the while I had no idea you’d pursued me just to keep an eye on me.”

When my eyes fell closed a tired breath escaped my tense mouth. I felt just like the desolate terrain on which I stood. I was the world’s biggest fool. And in my insecure imaginings I thought Gresham looked at me every day and saw me as the fool I was for not catching on to his skeevy manipulations.

“I didn’t pursue you to seduce you, Stella,” Gresham said and grasped my chin so I was forced to look at him. “That was never my plan. Hell, I considered you a child. I had Livia. My intentions were to bring you to Thayer and to monitor your form.”

“What if I’d turned into a dragon first, Gresham? What would you have done then?” That’s the question I asked, but my knee-jerk jealousy to the mention of Livia was what most occupied my mind. Did he miss her? Was he regretful? Did he consider me immature and inexperienced in comparison?

“If your form had been a dragon, then I would’ve interceded.”

My heart stuttered to a stop at his business-like tone. “What does that mean? Interceded?”

“Thayerian sentiment has been strongly anti-dragon since the Steward Massacre,” he said. “You know that. If a new dragon had emerged, an outsider especially, you’d have been assumed savage and condemned before you knew what hit you. The entire situation had the potential for catastrophe. Not just for Thayer, but for you, too.”