Chapter Eight
Grim pushed his way out the door and into the frigid, snowy wind. He couldn’t see where Vyr had gone, but he had a feeling the Red Dragon hadn’t come all the way here just to sit in the corner of a bar and leave without saying anything. And he sure as hell didn’t come here to finish Grim off. If that dragon had wanted him dead, Grim would already be ashes.
They had unfinished business.
Grim shoved his hands into his pockets and gripped Rebble. The snarl in his throat steadied right along with the Reaper. He could barely see ten feet in front of him, but he could make out the man leaning against the back of the logging truck.
“You didn’t answer any of my calls,” he greeted Vyr.
The red-haired man twitched his head like a tic, and then he lifted his silver eyes with those elongated pupils to Grim. “I like talking face-to-face.”
Vyr felt off. The air around him felt denser and smelled of smoke, but it was more than that. Vyr felt heart sick. Or head sick maybe. The closer Grim got to the monster, the more his animals drew up and prepared to Change. Both of them, The Good and The Bad. And that was bad news for Grim, so he stopped right on the edge of where he could see Vyr and hoped he could keep his skin long enough to have this talk. “I respect that,” he murmured. “I like settling things man-to-man, too.”
Vyr crossed his arms and said, “I heard your wish in there.”
“Congratulations. You have ears.”
Vyr huffed a breath and gave a smile that chilled Grim’s blood. It was like watching a Tyrannosaurus Rex grin. He lifted two fingers and flicked them slightly. Suddenly, the snow that fell between them disappeared. Grim looked in shock at the clear sphere around them where no snow fell.
“It’s like an anti-snow-globe,” Vyr murmured.
Fuck, he was much more powerful than anyone realized. He wasn’t just a dragon, which was dangerous enough. He was more.
Kill him, the Reaper whispered.
“I wasn’t completely decided if I would fire your entire Crew for growing the balls enough to face me in Tarian Pride Territory. It’s very hard to pull me off a hunt, and you forced my hand. My dragon doesn’t like you.”
“Well, none of me likes you, so we’re pretty fuckin’ even.”
Vyr chuckled. “The man in me respects you though. Or maybe I just recognize you. One shitty Alpha to another, I like what you said in there—about wanting to be better. Your mate and your Crew deserve it.” He shook his head slightly again, the same tic. “So do mine.”
“The Tarian Pride just needs time to rebuild, you know? They have a new lion trying to fix them.”
“Ronin won’t fix anything. You and I both know it.”
Grim gritted his teeth and kicked a snow drift with the toe of his boot. “I believe in him.”
“You don’t know him. Not anymore. He isn’t the same boy you grew up with. That Pride went after people I consider mine. And like I said, it’s very hard to pull my dragon off a hunt.” Warning flashed in his bright silver dragon eyes. “Stay out of it, Grim.”
The snow began falling between them again so hard Grim could barely see Vyr anymore.
The dragon stood and turned to walk away, but hesitated. For a few seconds, he just froze there with his back to Grim. “Bash sent me a picture tonight. It was of you and Ash and your Crew. You were in the truck. Ash was smiling. Juno and Remi, too. You all were. I grew up with those girls. They’re special.” Vyr turned and pulled an envelope out of his back pocket. He strode forward and offered it to Grim. “You are doing better than you think. Merry Christmas, Grim.”
Vyr gave him a crooked grin and disappeared into the snowstorm.
Grim watched him go before opening the envelope. He pulled out the Crew’s paychecks. He wasn’t firing them after all. Didn’t matter that his dragon didn’t like Grim. The man in Vyr was still letting Grim run his mountains.
Grim hadn’t said it out loud, but he felt the same way about Vyr. As an Alpha, as a shifter who had to manage a monster inside of him, Grim respected Vyr, too.
Baffled, he turned his frown to where the Red Dragon had disappeared in the snow. “Merry Christmas to you too, Vyr.”