Quinn swallowed audibly, trailed me out of the office and up a narrow staircase to a door at the top of the steps. I touched my hand to the lock and it released. Entering my domain, I welcomed him inside, let him take in the sparsely furnished living room, with large red and gold silk pillows and wall-hangings covering almost every available surface. This was only one of my bolt-holes and not where I kept my hoard, but I still wanted to be comfortable. Carved chests artfully decorated the corners of the room, and a low, long table with the same carvings, sat in the middle, surrounded by a silk mound of pillows.

Quinn’s head swiveled as he took in everything, his back pressed to the door. Couldn’t blame him. Until the truce of Cairnsdaught, dragons enjoyed snacking on little humans like him. Most fairies wouldn’t harm humans intentionally, but they didn’t understand a lot of human’s odd customs, like modesty, and monogamy. Since dragons—if they mated—did so for life, I held a different perspective on that, but fairies liked to ensorcel humans to act out dramas for their amusement, not understanding that their meddling could break up families. It’s one of the reasons the High Council came down hard on having non-magical humans in the Elder. It caused a glut of paperwork when they’d get injured; a real inconvenience for the Council.

I showed Quinn the spare bedroom. Not very spacious, but it contained a nest-like bed with a pile of warm pelts and a beautifully carved dresser with gold filament inlay and a matching mirror. I’d hung a large dark green tapestry depicting a simple forest dragon toasting a knight into popcorn. Probably not the most comforting of scenes, but what was the probability I’d have a real live human male in my home? I’d matched the wall-hanging to gauzy silk curtains that framed a tiny stained-glass window.

“Your place is not what I pictured.” Quinn fumbled with his bag, placed it on his bedding.

“You assumed I would live in a cold, dank cave, right?”

“Well, yeah, kind of.”

I grimaced. Dragons got a bad rap in the decorating department, but the truth was we liked beautiful things. Shiny things. Gold, and silk, and men like Quinn who—now that Brandsome was out of range—I could really appreciate for his almost pretty features. A square jaw and strong cheekbones kept a slightly harder edge to his face, but his long lashes and lush mouth made me instantly think bed slave. No wonder he’d been sold to Brandsome.

I blinked, trying to remember what we were just discussing. Dank, dark caves. Right.

“Dragons have great taste. We’re actually quite refined.” I made sure to avoid looking at him when I said it as if he could read my thoughts. I also didn’t add, when we’re not eating humans. Meh, didn’t need to be said.

His gaze lingered on me like a caress for a moment before he turned back to the rest of the room.

“You really do have great taste,” he conceded.

“Let’s get something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, I heated up some of my world famous harebringers stew, a stew so tasty one bowl simply wasn’t enough.

Quinn and I sat across from each other at my table, each of us perched on a large pile of pillows. Quinn kept adjusting his and trying to kneel which put him at an awkward height to the table. I gestured for him to sit, but he still seemed unsure. Well, he’d have to get used to it. No reason to kneel in my presence.

I held up my spoon in salute and took a bite of the stew. Nothing like it in the Elder. I learned it on one of my trips to the Hominus Realm. An old witch taught it to me in exchange for some help with a particularly troublesome troll. Believe me, I got the better end of the deal.

Quinn shifted his spoon around in his bowl, but I didn’t see him eat. I dug into my second helping before I finally said, “Try it.”

He wrinkled his nose just slightly, then realized what he was doing.

“Sorry,” he blurted out and quickly took a bite.

“I’m not going to punish you if you don’t like it, you know.”

He looked up at me with the wariest expression I’d ever seen and I knew he had indeed been punished for something similar. Then his expression relaxed.

“Oh, wow, this is so good.” He spooned in another bite then began shoveling it in.

“Hey, hey, there’s plenty more where that came from. No need to rush.” Though I understood how hard it was to resist.

“What’s in this?” he asked between bites.

“I’d tell you, except then I’d have to kill you,” I teased.

He paled.

Ah, crap.

“I’m joking.” I huffed. “Look, I get that I’m a big scary guy, but I’ve given you my word I’ll do you no harm.”

“I-I believe you.”

“I doubt it. It’s okay. I get it.”

“May I have another bowl of stew, please?” He cleared his throat.

I ladled some into his bowl. “Aren’t you allowed seconds normally?”

Keeping his eyes on his dish, Quinn shook his head.

I waited until he’d finished chewing before I asked, “Why not?”

His jaw firmed. “Brandsome didn’t want me to get fat. Said I needed to keep his asset in tip top shape. Never know who he’ll need to lend me to for a night or two.”

What did you say to something like that?

“You don’t have to be anything for me, Quinn. If you want to wear regular clothes and go without the face-paint, and eat seconds at every meal, that’s fine. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped with all the pheromone sprays and perfumes; they give me a headache. Unfortunately, I can’t take off your collar, since technically you still belong to Brandsome.”

“Why are you being so nice?” Quinn pushed his empty dish away.

“I’m not. I’m treating you like any guest who stays under my roof.”

“No one treats human males like others. Not in the Elder. You heard Brandsome. Without magic of my own, I’m little more than a glorified sex toy.” He began humming a lullaby I’d heard mothers in the Hominus Realm sing to their sleepy children. A pretty song. Too bad after the first few bars he stiffened and went silent, not meeting my eyes. “Sorry. Bad habit.”

Humming is a bad habit?

“I don’t mind. It was nice.”

“Brandsome hates it. I’m not supposed to do it.”

“I’m not Brandsome.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you. Lots of Elderians don’t like human music.” Quinn readjusted himself on his pillows, still avoiding eye contact.

“You forget, I’m not from the Elder. I don’t agree with several things creatures here do. Including the stupid social hierarchy. Who cares whether you’re a member of the Alphae Guild or the Lovely Creatures Guild or an indentured servant? It doesn’t make you a better person, regardless what others claim.”

As if my blasphemy called forth he-who-was-most-invested in the Elder’s status system, we both heard a resounding pop. Quinn flung himself backwards. Only one person could get through my wards with ease. I sighed.

“Hi, Dad. I thought I asked you to knock first.” Turning my attention to the figure no more than eight inches tall standing in the middle of my table, I raised an eyebrow.

“You shouldn’t have taken on an indentured servant. Especially not a human.” He gestured vaguely in Quinn’s direction without ever looking at Quinn.

“Nice to see you, too.”

He harrumphed. My dad excelled at that sound. It conveyed a whole realm of disappointment in just those few syllables.

“Well?” he finally snapped when I didn’t respond to his question. He drew himself up to his full eight inches. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I—”

“You’re a Starfig, son. Start acting like one.” He jerked on his purple silk toga like it did him some grievous wrong. My dad always wore the most elaborate getup of any fairy I’d ever seen. It lent an air of formality to his garb others didn’t have. A large gold brooch pinned cascading layers of cloth onto one shoulder. The brooch bore an official insignia of the Alphae Guild and proudly displayed my father’s rank as a senior council member, a coveted spot among fairy kind.

“But—”

“If I wanted excuses, I would hold a council meeting.” His lips compressed into a thin line.

“It’s not what—”

“I’m waiting.”

“For what exactly?”

He harrumphed again. “An explanation, obviously.”

“Then you’ll have to let me get a word in—”

“Just like you to try to avoid the subject. My own son, incapable of getting to the point.” Then he smiled in a way that made my skin crawl and patted my knuckle. “Now, you’re acting like a council member. I’ll train you up yet, boy.”

I shuddered.

“I’m not going for a seat on the council. As it is, they barely tolerate me and only because I’m your son.” I glanced at Quinn who goggled at us both. His gaze bounced from me to my father and back again. Yeah, hard to understand, I know. My father possessed the fine features and slender figure associated with fairy folk as well as a distinguished cascade of silver hair. I took after my mother’s side with my messy hair that looked black except in the right light, strong features, and fighter’s build. That my father didn’t even come to the top of my shin only added to the lack of resemblance.

“Nonsense.” My father reclaimed my attention with his peevish tone. “You’ve been accepted into the ranks of premier fairy, fae, and sprites. You have the same opportunity as anyone else—”

“Lucky me. So good of the Alphae to accept a half-breed bastard into their glorious ranks.”

“—It even says so in Coppernials Bylaws, Book 135, Page 1745, paragraph B, subsection 3.041. Do I need to show it to you so you’ll finally believe it?”

An old argument.

“Dad, you can legislate it all you want, but as far as most Alphae are concerned, I’m little more than a freak of nature. You should have left me in the Lovely Creatures Guild.”

He snorted. “No Starfig will be in Last Chance Guild while there’s breath in my body. You’d never be able to hold a council seat.”

“I don’t want to hold a council seat. It’s full of arrogant, self-important Alphae. I’d rather claw my eyes out than deal with those dicks on a daily basis.” I raked a hand through my hair, accidentally loosening the leather cord that held my unruly locks at bay. How many more times would we have to have this conversation before he believed me?

“We’ll talk about it later.” He tilted his head toward the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh. “For now, I want to know what you’re planning to do about the human. You know I’ve been contemplating abolishing indentured servitude between the fairy, fae, and sprites.”

“Uh, no, I didn’t know.”

“If you’d come by the offices more often, you’d know.”

“Not happening. But thanks for the head’s up. I definitely agree with getting rid of the practice all together.”

“Who said anything about getting rid of the practice? No, I just don’t want fairies, fae, and sprites to be indentured. Other creatures”—he waved his hand around—“well, we’ll see.”

“Then why do you have a problem with me taking on a human servant?”

“How does it look when my son takes an indentured servant when I’m working on limiting that very issue? No, looks bad, that’s what. Like you’re flouting my authority.”

“I’m not flouting—”

“Excuse me, Councilmember Starfig. Your son did me a favor,” Quinn said, his voice a respectful whisper. “He was only trying to help me, sir.”

My dad turned his attention to Quinn, his lips pursed. Not good.

“Shouldn’t allow human males in the Elder. At least the females of your species are likely to have some magic. And I hardly think a Starfig needs a sex slave. Even men should want more out of life than that.” Dismissing Quinn, he chuckled and patted me on the knuckle again. “Besides, we’re a virile bunch. You’ve no need to sleep with a used up human.”

Quinn turned crimson under his makeup, his shoulders hunching like he’d taken a blow. Not one of his better looks and it left me feeling strangely protective.

“Dad, that’s enough. You don’t need to insult him. And I’m not using him for sex—”

“Of course you aren’t. Like you’d need to. He’d be lucky to have a Starfig. . . . However, others won’t see it that way. Appearances, you know.”

“Do you think you could stop worrying what others may or may not think for just a moment, please?”

My father looked like the very idea was preposterous. And I suppose for him, it was.

I turned to Quinn who crooned quietly under his breath. Another lullaby. He cut off when he noticed my attention focused on him.

Did he only hum when insulted? Or did other emotions cause the behavior, too?

“Quinn, this is Auric Starfig, political animal extraordinaire, and as you probably noted, insensitive ass. And my father. Dad, Quinn is only staying with me temporarily until his . . . master,”—Man, I hated the word—“pays me what he owes me.”

Quinn’s flinch was subtle, but spoke volumes. I felt guilty for even saying it like that. Not sure why, since Quinn ended up in Brandsome’s care because of his own sticky fingers.

Neither my father nor Quinn acknowledged my introduction.

“You know,” my father began, “you don’t have to do grunt work—”

“I like my job just fine.”

He harrumphed again. Damn, three times in one short conversation. Must be a record. He opened his mouth to continue, so I rushed to say, “Please don’t tell me again about Article so-and-so of Allowind’s Regulatory Rulings, page I-don’t-give-a-fuck, column who-gives-a-shit. Unless it’s become illegal to do an honest day’s labor, I really don’t care.”

My father’s lip twitched. I couldn’t tell whether from amusement or annoyance.

“I think you meant, Belacorsy’s Regulatory Rulings. Allowind’s work focused primarily on the rights of succession within Elven royal lineages.”

“Of course it does.” Ugh.

Turning his attention back to Quinn again, my father cocked his head to the side in a way that meant he intended to say something I wouldn’t like.

“He’s pretty enough, I guess. Perhaps I can get my PR team to spin this as a story of unrequited longing.”

“Unrequited what?” I definitely did not like where this was headed. I had a feeling Quinn wouldn’t either.

“Yes, yes. A servant so enamored he begged his master to give him to you for as long as you’d have him. A whisper in the right ear and this story could sell well.”

Ah, making sure everyone knew how virile the Starfig line ran, his second favorite pastime after legislating every little facet of life here in the Elder. As if his virility could be in doubt when he sired a child with a dragon. “Dad, this really isn’t necessary. It’s no one’s business what I do or with whom.”

My dad sighed for a full ten seconds straight. Then he shook his head, ran a hand over his face. “I know you can’t help but be influenced by your mother’s genetics. Still, you’re a Starfig. Everything we do matters. Everything. We’re always being watched. Held to a higher standard. It gets tiring having to cover up your exploits.”

“My exploits?” Rage flooded my chest, and smoke began streaming from my nose. “You . . . I think you’d better go.”

It took me everything I had not to say some pretty hurtful things back. At the moment, my inner dragon itched to chomp him into little pieces. It wouldn’t solve anything and I only lived in the Elder through my father’s support. If he withdrew it, things would get uncomfortable fast. Plus, I didn’t think it proper form to eat one’s sire. Patricide tended to follow a guy around.

“Yes, I think you’re right.” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Looks like my PR team will be working overtime. Again.”

With those parting words he disappeared.

Quiet descended. I closed my eyes, counted to ten. I might as well have counted to a million. My anger boiled just under the surface. Probably a good thing I couldn’t really breathe fire or I’d have burned my place down.

Quinn wisely didn’t say anything, let me grapple my anger back down to manageable levels. He really was smart for a human. Not that humans were dumb per se, but they tended to be slow to accept things outside their frame of reference. I spent time in the Hominus Realm after leaving my mother’s clan and I came to like some of them. I might have even settled in their world, if members of my ex-clan hadn’t kept harassing the villages I stayed in.

At least the dragons didn’t come to harass me in the Elder too often. Enough magic here that they never knew who they might run into and to give my father credit, he’d let my mother know, in no uncertain terms, he’d take immediate action to have them removed if they caused any trouble. Full sized, full blooded dragons always caused trouble. It’s what we . . . they . . . did.

After a while, I opened my eyes, felt in enough control to look at Quinn without scaring him to death.

He’d gone pale again, but didn’t flee to his room, so I guess that was a good sign. He cleared his throat. “Nice guy, your dad.”

I cracked a smile, chuckled. “He’s a real prince. And you should meet my half-brother. He makes my dad look like a sweetheart.” My smile slid away. “I’m sorry my father treated you so shabbily. He hasn’t had much contact with humans . . . well, human males before, so he didn’t know how to act.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had worse.” Quinn’s eyes didn’t quite meet mine. “I just can’t believe I met one of the most powerful creatures in the Elder and he could fit in my palm.”

“Size isn’t everything. Well, unless you’re a dragon.”

“Earlier, I shouldn’t have said . . .” He shook his head, clearly changing his mind. “They say your dad is the last purebred of his kind. That his power is to wield political influence. I’ve never heard of a power like that before. Is it some kind of compelling magic like Brandsome’s?”

I snickered, but not because what he said was funny.

“That’s what everyone assumes and what my father lets creatures believe. The truth isn’t as glamorous. And, as you heard, dear old dad is all about reputation.”

I could tell he wanted me to elaborate. He didn’t ask though.

“Can you also pop places without the aid of a magical artifact?”

“No.” I left it at that. I struggled with popping even with a magical artifact because it didn’t know whether to interact with my dragon’s magic or my fairy’s. Magical artifacts tended to malfunction in my hands, sometimes to hilarious—or not so hilarious—results. “There’s some more harebringers stew if you get hungry.” I stood. “I shouldn’t be more than a couple hours.”

“Where are you going?”

“No time like the present to get the horn back.”

Quinn got to his feet. “I think you should take me with you.”