Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Alone.
“Pint-Size,” Ptur sweetly states, summoning my stare as well as my attention away from where it drifted off to, “are you alright?” Our eyes lock and seeing so much determination to care for me has my shoulders untensing. “Do you need me to get you something? Tea? Peppermints? Maybe a spoonful of honey? Fresh honey was often my mom’s go to for a soothing remedy when I needed it.”
“Do you have a cold?” Dae quickly investigates. “What are the exact symptoms you have been displaying and for how long?”
“He’s just nesting again, Little Tails,” Z smoothly explains.
“Does it ever stop?” I present the question to Ptur’s youngest brother. “Like once we’re officially bonded or if I get pregnant?”
“No.” His other half answers for him, doing her best not to grin. “Nesting is forever.”
“I’ve gotten better about it,” Z meekly argues.
“You bought me a new nursing pillow just yesterday!”
“Did you like the color?” Familiar hope pops onto his face. “They have it in purple, but silver seemed much more appropriate. Or do you want me to get a different one? Something softer? Firmer? Less-”
She places a single finger to his lips to stop the verbal flailing.
“So, they all just trip over themselves like that?”
Dae warmly nods and lowers her hand back to her side. “It’s cute, right?”
The two dragons in the room rumble their opposing feelings while I offer a wink of agreement. Afterward, I flip us back to the unfinished page we were on. “What’s the news about my mother?”
“I was fortunate enough to retrieve a hair from the backseat of Ptur’s DUV-”
“DUV?”
“Dragon equivalent of an SUV.” Once I nod in comprehension, she proceeds, “From the lab work I could complete, the drugs I was able to identify are some sort of complicated compound that I’m guessing were created solely for/by Magitek. Unfortunately, looking deeper into a few of them, will require additional time and covert assistance—due to the spies I’m fairly certain they have in the medical field. I’ll bother Griff about it tomorrow. He’s gone for the night.” Dae excitedly leans forward to loudly whisper. “He has a date.”
“Griff doesn’t date.” Ptur bluntly bites. “He gets off and gets back to work.”
His proclamation is met by a small shoulder shrug from me. “Sounds familiar.”
The disapproving grunt is impossible to ignore. “You’re done with that.”
“Which part, Beanstalk? Getting off or working? Because I’m honestly not giving either one of those up.” Shock drops his jaw to his lap allowing me to resume my conversation with Dae. “Does this mean you can’t flush her system now?”
Dae’s small cringe gives the answer before her words. “Not entirely. I can begin the process, but until I know everything that’s in it, I can’t completely combat it. It’s probably going to take a few days if not at least a week.”
Another nod of understanding is executed prior to me facing my impromptu date. “Hope you don’t mind having a houseguest for a bit.”
The grin he presents is crooked yet sweet. “I don’t mind sleeping on my couch. It’s more comfortable than it looks.”
“You don’t have to sleep on your couch, Ptur. I can just sleep in another room.”
“I want you in mine, Fated Mate,” he purrs as he leans down towards me. “It’s where we both know you belong.”
He’s right.
For the first time I can ever recall, I know exactly where I should be.
Maybe not who I am or who I’m supposed to theoretically be, but I do know the where.
And that’s honestly the most certainty I’ve had about anything in the past twenty-five years.
Ptur
I have never been so content with a routine in my entire life.
Yes, I started swearing by them when our parents died, but not because I wanted to, but because I had no choice.
Running a company and running a family are not as different as some may think. Both require a certain level of structure, an overwhelming amount of dedication to details, and sacrificing your own wants for the greater purpose.
I had to trade in jeans and Draggle Stones concert t-shirts for designer suits and ties.
I had to give up late night bar hopping for red carpet events.
And worst of all, I had to stop being the big brother who would give advice on fun shit—like how to make it out of a succubus orgy unscathed—to be the father figure who had to shape them into better beings. Push them to reach for more. Go after goals. Strive for excellence while simultaneously understanding that they should really be aiming even higher.
Routines were the easiest way to transition from the reckless and rather carefree existence I enjoyed to this one. They pounded me into the successful mogul the world sees in the boardroom, in interviews, and during social functions. They rid me of irresponsibility and reshaped me into a creature who values the checklists for his checklists as much the checklists themselves.