Mac walked into his grandparents’ home with fresh roses in one hand and a box of glazed donuts in the other. Before he left his truck, he’d fired off a text message to Idris to tell him he was safely back in Maryland. The wizard replied within seconds and though he hadn’t said much, Mac was happy to receive it.
“Is that you, Macardle?” his grandmother called out.
“Nope, it’s a handsome prince ready to sweep you off your feet,” he replied as he stepped into the living room where she was pulling yarn out of her knitting bag.
“The penalty for stealing a man’s mate is death,” his grandfather retorted from his chair.
Mac bent over and kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “These are for you,” he told her as he presented the flowers with a flourish.
“Thank you, Macardle. You didn’t have to buy me flowers,” she exclaimed with a bright smile. “Would you grab the pretty glass vase from the cabinet?”
“I’d be happy to,” he said as he offered the box of sweet treats to his grandfather.
Lloyd’s bushy brows rose. “Donuts and flowers? You must’ve had a good day at D’Vaire.”
“I’m going to put Grandma’s roses in water. Then I’ll tell you both all about it.” Mac pulled the vase from its resting spot and strode into the kitchen. In quick order, he filled it with water. Next, he deftly trimmed the stems of the flowers and did his best to arrange them. His grandmother taught him how to treat them, but he wasn’t confident in his ability to show each blossom off to its best advantage. When he was satisfied that he couldn’t do any better, Mac carried them back into the living room and placed them on a small side table.
“You did a beautiful job, Macardle, and thank you again. They’re just lovely,” his grandmother enthused.
“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he told her, then returned to the kitchen. He pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with milk. Mac brought it to his grandfather since he always ate his donuts with the drink.
“Thanks,” his grandfather said in between healthy bites.
“My pleasure.” Mac took a seat on the faded couch and let the grin spread across his face. He was particularly delighted with life.
“You’re smiling, but I don’t know if that’s because things went well at Court D’Vaire or because it went awful, and now you have a perfect reason not to leave two old people,” his grandfather observed.
His words sobered the warm glow of all the feelings coursing through Mac’s system. No matter what was waiting for him in Arizona, it wasn’t going to be easy to say good-bye to the two people he loved so dearly. Mac’s grandfather would never forgive him if he stayed in Maryland while his mate languished at Court D’Vaire, so there was no choice to be made. “Things went well. I liked King Aleksander and the other D’Vaires I met.”
“How many D’Vaires did you meet?” his grandmother asked. “Were you given the opportunity to introduce yourself to their whole family?”
“No. Duke Brogan’s very protective and didn’t allow any of us to be introduced to the entire family. I met eleven D’Vaire people and one D’Vaire familiar, as well as King and Queen Bera.”
“I read that those warlock familiars are people too, Macardle. You should refer to them as such,” his grandfather retorted.
“I did count the warlock familiar I met as a person. I can’t imagine calling him anything else. I was referring to wizard familiars, and the one I was introduced to was a tiny dragon named Roger,” Mac explained.
“Strange for a little dragon to be present at your interview, considering how protective you say Duke Brogan is,” Lloyd observed.
“You could say Roger found me. He wasn’t at the interview. He flew into the room where we were all held while we waited to be interviewed,” Mac told them.
“Did Roger look like a real dragon?” his grandmother asked.
“Exactly like one. He’s a brilliant indigo color. It was pretty incredible seeing him, and his scales felt just like a shifter.”
“So, did they offer you the job or not?” his grandfather inquired.
“No one gets into Court D’Vaire without a family vote, which they plan to do at their weekly meeting. I’ll find out if I got the job after that.”
“I guess we don’t have to worry about any duke there running around with nothing to do and no platform for his voice to be heard,” Lloyd commented.
“No, and apparently King Aleksander spoke with Alfred this morning. Alfred told him I was ‘adequate’ and would offer no further details.”
“Adequate?” his grandmother repeated.
“Nice words from your mother’s mate,” Lloyd grumbled.
“I guess I should be glad he didn’t say anything detrimental.”
“That is detrimental, Macardle,” his grandfather argued. “Tell me, you want to go work for King Aleksander or what? Are you hoping they vote you in?”
“Believe it or not I am,” Mac replied. “My plan is to go to Court D’Vaire, whether I’m chosen as one of King Aleksander’s dukes or not.”
“Macardle,” his grandfather stated in a serious tone. “You can’t just show up at a king’s home and demand entry.”
“In this case, I can.”
“The boy has lost his mind,” his grandfather told his other half.
“Macardle, perhaps you’d care to explain,” Bretta prompted.
Mac smiled broadly. “My mate lives at D’Vaire.”
Lloyd practically jumped out of his chair and strode across the room. Rising, Mac allowed himself to be enveloped in his embrace. “I just had a feeling that was the right place for you. Fate’s obviously smart enough to agree.”
Much slower, Bretta managed to get out of her seat and Mac hugged her fragile frame tenderly. “Congratulations, Macardle. I’m so happy for you.” When she pulled back, there were unshed tears in her eyes.
“No crying, Grandma,” he told her as he helped her back to her chair. Once she was settled, he handed over her knitting supplies and went back to the sofa.
“Tell us all about him,” Lloyd demanded. “What color dragon is he?”
“Not a dragon, Grandpa.”
“Did you hear that, Lloyd? He’s not a dragon. A sorcerer perhaps? Or maybe an elf. Didn’t you tell me there were elves at Court D’Vaire?” she asked his grandfather.
“A couple of chieftains, I read—but they both have mates. Are there other elves there, Macardle?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t meet any elves. My mate’s a wizard. His name is Idris. He’s the one with the little indigo dragon Roger, who came right over and laid on my lap. I was sure Duke Brogan was going to skin me alive when he saw me with this familiar making himself at home, but instead it was Idris and his friends who arrived looking for Roger.”
“What does your wizard look like, dear?” his grandmother asked.
“Gorgeous. Dark curly hair, maybe five foot eight or five foot nine, great smile—and his eyes? They are the same brilliant indigo as his dragon. He had a button-down shirt on with the sleeves rolled up, and there were nine white lines of varying thicknesses that encircled his arms. So, he’s a powerful wizard. There are only ten levels for wizards, and the only one who has that many is the Prism Wizard. His friend Delaney had the same amount. I haven’t paid enough attention, or they’ve kept these guys under wraps, because I don’t recall hearing about two such sorcerers. You’d think with them so close to the height of wizard magic, the press would be all over it.”
“I could do a search on that computer you got me,” his grandfather offered.
“I thought about doing one on my phone as soon as I got back to Maryland, but I decided I’d rather learn everything about Idris directly from the source.”
“I think that’s wise, Macardle. He might not appreciate you snooping around on the computer for him,” Bretta said.
“I can’t imagine King D’Vairedraconis not selecting you as a duke when he knows you’re Idris’s mate,” Lloyd remarked.
“I didn’t tell King Aleksander. I asked Idris to keep it between him and his two friends for now. I’d rather be selected based upon my own merit than simply because Fate chose Idris and me to be together.”
“Might be rather awkward if you aren’t offered the job,” his grandfather observed.
“I know it, but at least I’d know where I stand in the household. If they don’t want me as a duke, I’ll simply relinquish the title and become a D’Vaire. It’s not like I’ve earned it over the past two decades anyway. I’d rather have a happy matebond than a vacant title from a king who doesn’t trust me. I’ve had to learn that lesson the hard way.”
“You were chosen to be a duke by Fate. All black dragons are,” Lloyd retorted.
Mac shrugged. “Maybe the dragon world has it wrong, and not every black dragon is meant for the same destiny.”
“You were a fine duke before that jerk showed up here,” his grandfather argued.
“I’d like to think I was, but if it’s not the right thing for me to be at Court D’Vaire, then I’ll focus my energy on discovering what else I could possibly excel at. I don’t know how Idris fills his days yet—perhaps I could be of some assistance to him.”
“How long did you get to speak with your Idris?” Bretta asked.
“Unfortunately, not long but I did get his phone number, so I can text and call him until I hear back from King Aleksander.”
“Either way, you should probably start getting your stuff packed,” his grandfather said.
“You trying to get rid of me? I think it’s a bit premature to start packing. If I get the job, then I’ll have a formal date to arrive. If I don’t, then it’ll depend on how quickly my relationship blossoms with Idris. I’m already committed to doing whatever it takes to make it work, but Idris’s timetable might not be the same as my own. I need to respect his wishes for how he wants things to progress between us. In that case, I’ll move to Court D’Vaire when he feels we’re ready for that stage of our matebond.”
“Do you know how old he is, dear?” Bretta asked.
“I have no clue. As experienced as a sorcerer as he is, I can’t imagine he’s too young. My guess is, he has to be older than me.”
“Then he’s old enough to have made the decision to join the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. I’d be interested in knowing why a wizard of his caliber didn’t stay with the rest of his powerful brethren and help form the Consilium Veneficus,” his grandfather observed.
“Those people are just evil. I can think of a million reasons why Macardle’s Idris didn’t join the Consilium.”
“Bretta, I’m just curious as to what made the decision for Idris. I won’t argue—those people are malicious and wrong-headed in their thinking. You remember that documentary we saw? Can you imagine teaching youngsters that Fate doesn’t give everyone a mate? And their parents taking advantage of their children’s ignorance to force them into marriages for political or monetary gain? That should be a crime. Sickens me to think there are dragons who joined the Consilium. Of course, that King Ethelindraconis was championing people to stay, and I’ve never heard a positive word about that one.”
Mac wasn’t familiar with King Ethelindraconis. He was born only a few years before the Council moved to North America and the wizards formed the Consilium. Since then, the two governments had nothing to do with each other, but the Consilium made it known they hated everything about the Council. “I’m glad I missed that show. There’s nothing more disgusting than coming between mates.”
“It’s the most important part of your life, Macardle. I hope you’ll remember that each and every time you speak with your Idris,” his grandfather stated.
“No worries, Grandpa. I can’t wait to be with Idris.”
“You should also remember that having a mate is no excuse to spurn the children that may have come before Fate pairs two people. That feeling you have after meeting your Idris is no excuse for Moina to allow Alfred to treat you the way he does,” his grandmother added.
“Queen Helen Beradraconis said almost the same thing to me earlier. Her son had a child before he met his mate, and apparently he wasn’t spurned.”
“Good, you’re going to be surrounded by people with sense,” his grandfather commented.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to Court D’Vaire?”
“Two old people taking up two spots in a sanctuary? The boy really has lost his mind,” his grandfather remarked. “We don’t have much time left, but we’ll spend it here in Court Stenet. Being a Stenet is all we’ve known, Macardle, and we’re too damn ancient for change. You’ll spend all your time fussing over us and leave nothing to give your Idris. At least now, we can cross the veil knowing you’re in the right place. We’ll always be at your side because we’re in your heart. Don’t you ever forget that.”
“Stop talking about dying. You know it drives me crazy. Of course, I won’t forget. If you won’t come to Court D’Vaire, you’ve got to let me get someone in here to help with stuff around the house and fixing meals. Otherwise I won’t be able to be happy knowing you’re not being taken care of. It works both ways, Grandpa.”
Lloyd stared at him for a long time, then glanced over at Bretta. When his steely gaze returned to Macardle he said, “Your grandmother could use a hand in the kitchen.”
“I’ll call a couple of agencies that handle this stuff, and you guys can help me interview people.” Mac was so glad his grandfather agreed to his request. He hated the idea of leaving the two people who helped raise him and turned him into the man he was, but they would never allow him to stay, knowing he’d met his mate. Though he’d known they wouldn’t leave their home, he couldn’t help but suggest they make the move to Arizona whenever he did.
Mac stood to make his calls and start figuring out what he was going to cook for dinner when his grandfather got his attention. “When are you going to tell your mother you met your mate?”
The thought of telling her hadn’t entered his mind, which he supposed said a lot for the state of their relationship. “I don’t know. Not yet. If Alfred finds out, he’ll pack my bags for me. I won’t be dumped on Idris’s doorstep before he’s ready.”
“You only need tell her when you feel it’s right,” his grandmother assured him.
“Thanks. I’m sorry to ask you to keep information from your own daughter.”
“She hasn’t visited us for a month, Macardle,” Lloyd confessed.
It made Mac’s blood boil to think of the way his mother not only disregarded him but her parents as well. “She lives less than two miles from you,” Mac bit out.
“It doesn’t matter. She gave us the best gift two parents could ever ask for,” his grandmother said. “Moina gave us you.”
“I love you both,” he replied as he hugged them each in turn.
“Congratulations, Macardle. Your grandmother and I can’t wait to hear more about your Idris.”
“Pictures,” Bretta added. “I want to see pictures.” Mac promised them he would fulfill their wishes and headed out of the living room. He was glad he had things to do, but he wondered how in the world he was going to keep busy until he heard from King Aleksander again.