Page 4 of The Dragon's Perfect Omega
I had to smile at Finn. He was always so full of energy. Well, most of the time, anyway. There had been a few days when he'd been down when his mate wasn't feeling well, struggling with the cancer that had infested his lungs. But that was in the past now. For all I knew, his mate had made a full recovery.
"You're just looking for this show to be over so you can get home and not miss your son's first shift," Zed teased. I had to laugh at that. Finn's kid, Skylar, was nearly two years old now, and due to experience his first shift any moment. It was all Finn talked about lately. The kid seemed to be a late bloomer, though, making everyone wait.
"I'm sure Sky doesn't wanna do it without me there," Finn claimed with some confidence. "So we gotta rock this show and then come home." He looked at Zed and me. "Everyone on board with that plan?"
"Sure," Zed and I agreed. "Let's play a fantastic show."
* * *
That evening'sMeet and Greet started out exactly like all the others. Fans lined up in a room with us backstage, whispering among themselves as they waited for their turn to come forward and get their picture taken. Usually they would want a handshake or a hug, get a picture with us and then they received an autographed band poster from our assistant before they were sent on their way again. Front row seats were also included in their tickets of course, to make it worth the price.
It was still crazy to me that people paid a premium to basically shake my hand. Or rather, to shake Zed and Finn's hands, but whatever. I faced everyone who approached with a smile to show that I was a friendly dragon and not scary at all.
We were almost done with the night's Meet and Greet when I spotted someone I knew at the end of the line. Someone who'd been part of our crew when we'd toured last year. Derick or something. What was he doing here? He could have just asked if we were up for grabbing a couple of beers after the show—we usually were. Especially after the last one.
"Hey guys," he said, stepping up when everyone but him and his friend had filed out.
"Hi," I responded, raising my hand to wave at him, but then I stopped in mid-air. My eyes stuck to the explosion of color next to Derick. The aura of the man by Derick’s side looked like he’d been dragged through a bunch of different paint boxes in no particular order. It was all… mismatched. I’d never seen an aura like that.
It was fascinating—and strangely beautiful. It would have been even more beautiful, though, if I didn’t get the feeling that some of the colors were muddied somehow, as if something big was weighing on him.
What could it be, though?
And why did it feel like it was my job to take care of it?
I nearly shook my head at myself. The stranger drew all of my attention, and he wasn’t even looking back at me. His gaze lingered on the floor as if he was feeling shy or something. After all the fans who came through here wanting to throw themselves at us, it was kind of endearing. But it was hard to get a good look at his face this way. My eyes fixed on the blue stripe in his hair instead. It seemed so incongruent with his behavior. Who put a blue stripe in his hair and then didn't want people to look?
Finn nudged my shoulder. "You all right, Lowen?" And in a lower tone of voice. "Could you stare in a less obvious way?"
"Sorry," I muttered under my breath. "I'm okay." Or maybe not, because I couldn't quite keep my eyes from trailing to Derick's friend again, and this time, he looked up and his gaze met mine. His eyes matched the stripe in his hair. They wereintensein their brilliance.
It took my brain less than a nanosecond to decide that I wanted him.
Or maybe it wasn't my brain at all. The instinct felt a lot more primal than that, to be honest. There was a part of me that wanted to grab him and drag him to a quiet corner where I could do all sorts of things to him that I shouldn't be doing to anyone without their enthusiastic consent. That part of me didn't even care about the show anymore.
Finn stepped on my foot and I made myself tear my gaze away from the human in front of me.
Zed cleared his throat. "You got Meet and Greet tickets?" he addressed Derick.
Derick shrugged. I tried to keep my eyes on him instead of his friend. Much safer that way. "They were the only ones still on sale when I looked and I figured they'd make the perfect birthday present for my friend here." Derick nodded at his companion.
It was his birthday today? How old was he turning? What was his name? His favorite color? His favorite food? His shoe size? I wanted to know everything.
"Happy Birthday!" Finn said, stepping forward to shake the birthday boy's hand.
I literally had to stop myself from growling. What the hell was wrong with me?
"Thank you," Derick's friend said.
"What's your name?" Zed asked. "And how can you stand being friends with this guy?" He pointed his thumb at Derick.
The man with the blue striped hair laughed. "My name's Maximilian, but my friends call me Zim."
"Yeah," Derick chimed in. "Don't call him Max, he hates that. Isn't that right, Max?" He draped an arm around his friend's shoulder.
Zim shoved him off. "Don't be a jerk, Der."
"Yeah," I found myself agreeing. "Don't be a jerk."And keep your hands off him.
