The Island girl—his Given—pointed the sharp tip of her metal spear right at his throat, and Weysh could only stare at her, astounded. This was certainly a far cry from the scenario he'd pictured upon meeting.
"What does this mean, 'given'?" she demanded.
"En? It means we're bonded through the will of Bian."
How could she not know that? He took her in, not only the heady scent of her but her stance and her attire. White paint made strange marks all over her body, and her shirt was nothing more than a swath of yellow material that wrapped around her middle and looped over each shoulder, leaving her arms bare and showing a tantalizing hint of her midriff. A brown leather skirt hugged her hips. It was far more skin than he was used to seeing a woman show in polite society, not that he was complaining. She didn't look like any Islander he knew, certainly not like his cousins. Where had she said she was from? Weysh's eyebrows shot up. Did she say the Moonrise Isles? Well, that would be why she had no concept of Given. In fact, she continued to glare at him in obvious confusion.
"It means we'll be married soon," he clarified.
Her eyes went wide, then angry. "Lunacy," she said. "I will not wed you, dragon."
"What? You can't say that." Weysh turned to Harth. "Can she say that?"
Harth shrugged. "Apparently so."
He turned back to Yenni. "Look, lovely, I'm sorry if I've done anything to offend you, but you have to understand that we're Given, it's natural that we should be familiar with each other, en?"
"What do you not understand? Stay away from me!"
"Oh ho!" shouted Harth, that ass boil. He was probably enjoying every second of this mess. Weysh tuned him out.
"Don't you have a mouth on you," he said, and then he was distracted by her mouth. A small mouth with full lips he very much wanted to kiss.
"I am leaving. Follow me and you will regret it."
He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, lovely. As you say."
She jerked her spear away and marched off, her hips swaying hypnotically as she disappeared down the whitestone path, bound for the sharp spires of Lelond Hall.
"Bian, Weysh!" said Sui, grabbing Harth's hand. "Come on, let's catch up with her."
Harth shook his head at Weysh and hurried with Sui after his Given. Weysh wanted to run after her too, but it was best to give females space when they got like that. For now, he'd make do with the scent of her. It still clung to his nostrils like perfume on his sheets the morning after he'd taken a woman home. Bian above, he wasn't even in dragon and he'd been able to catch her scent yards away. She smelled like flowers...no. Earth...no. Sun? Meat...hmm. No. Grass? She smelled like...forever.
A goofy grin spread across his face. He'd thought that maybe, due to the circumstances of his birth, he was a severed dragon, but he'd finally found her. He wanted to shout it across the quad. He'd met his Given!
"Weysh!"
A hard slap to his arm brought him back to reality. He looked down into a pair of angry brown eyes, and cold horror doused all his feelings of joy.
"C-Carmenna!" He'd completely forgotten about her! They were meant to meet at Bertrand's East once he returned from work.
"What, by Bian, was that?" She was shaking with rage.
"I-I..." He was a dung worm. "I-I'm sorry. Come, Carmenna. Let's not make a scene. We'll go somewhere private—"
"No!" She yanked her slender fingers from his grasp. "How could you humiliate me like this?"
Her whole body quivered in anger right down to the glossy black hair that fell to her middle. He would miss running his fingers through it...
He sighed. "There's no easy way to say this. She's my Given."
She stilled. Her eyes were glassy with tears and Weysh wanted to sink into the grass. At least hers was the last heart he would ever break.
"You said...we thought you were a severed dragon," she whispered.
"I know. I assumed—I believed I had no mate. But there's no mistaking it. I wish I could explain, but...she's my Given. I'm sure of it."
She took a shuddery breath. Out of habit, he cupped her face.
"Please don't cry, lovely."
She jerked her head away and her tears spilled free.
"You knew this could happen," he said softly, pleadingly.
"Yes, but...I love you, Weysh."
He closed his eyes against the sinking feeling inside. "And I you, Carmenna," he said. Truly, he did. "You're a sweet, beautiful, caring woman, but you're not my Given."
She simply stared at him, tears falling freely.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry."
He turned and reached deep inside himself for the trigger, tugging on it. His skin went numb, but smells got sharper, sounds louder, colors bolder, and then he was his dragon self, large and powerful. He stretched his wings, feeling pops along the joints like always when he first switched. A few flaps and he was up and flying, leaving poor, beautiful Carmenna behind.
***
Sylvie came barreling out of the main door, holding up her dress as she skipped down the manor steps. She flew up the cobblestone path and Weysh changed back in time to grab her up in his arms. Laughing, he spun her around and plopped her down, breathing deep. Though she was a young woman now, she would always smell like a little sister to him, like cherries and flowers and pastries.
"Sylvie, my heart. How are you?"
She hugged him. "Weysh! I missed you."
He ran a hand through her hair, a beautiful mass of brown-blond curls like their Maman's, but much shorter than he remembered.
"When did you do this?"
"Over a month ago. It's actually grown out a bit. You'd know if you came by more often." She pouted her lips at him.
He planted a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry, lovely. It seems all I'm doing today is making women angry."
"Just today?"
He frowned. "Aren't you funny," he said and flicked her forehead in the same place he'd just kissed.
"Hey!" She rubbed the spot. "What happened now?"
"The usual, but I have good news as well. Come, let's find Maman."
She was in the sitting room. Weysh smelled the coffee long before he saw the dainty little cup in her hand. He wrinkled his nose at the scent of his mother's husband, so foreign from hers and Sylvie's.
"Oh! Weysh!" She smiled, but there was a wariness to it. Still, Weysh strode around the plush rug to the wing chair where she sat and draped an arm around her in a loose hug. She turned and pecked him on the cheek. Weysh gave the man across from her a terse nod, which he returned in kind.
"What a surprise!" said his mother. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Sylvie, is that any way to greet your father? Come here, child." Montpierre frowned at Sylvie from the other armchair.
"Sorry, Papa," she said and crossed the room to hug and kiss him. Weysh stiffened. After all this time it was still awkward to hear Sylvie call Montpierre "Papa" when he could not, even though he'd long since given up wanting to.
He cleared his throat. "I have good news."
"Oh?" said his mother, her brown eyes wide. "What is it?"
The goofy grin crept onto his face again. "I've met my Given."
Sylvie squealed, and Montpierre told her to hush.
His mother eyed him over the rim of her teacup. "Truly? Is it that beauty with the long black hair? The one from Espanna you brought to dinner? She's quite lovely."
Sylvie laughed from her perch on the arm of her father's chair. "You only say that because she looks a lot like you, Maman."
His mother cocked her head to the side. "Does she?"
Weysh brushed aside the bubble of guilt at the mention of Carmenna, the only woman he'd ever introduced to his family. "She doesn't look anything like Maman," he said indignantly, feeling mildly disturbed. "And no, it's not her. You know that's not how mating works for dragons."
"I know no such thing," she said, a bit sharply. "Besides, I remember you telling me you intended to choose your own Given."
"Yes, well...things have changed." None of his family were dragonkind. How to explain to them the compulsion his Given had over him, right from the first meeting? The way her scent made strange tingles of bliss radiate from his skull down his spine?
Montpierre coughed. "Hmph. I suppose this means you'll stop terrorizing the women of Imperium Centre?"
"Papa," Sylvie warned, but Weysh only fixed the man with his violet eyes and threw him a lazy smile.
"Yes Montpierre, I suppose it does."
"Who is she?" asked Sylvie.
"Yenni Ajaya...something. Anyway, she's a fiery little thing from the Moonrise Isles."
"Oh! The Sunrise Isles! Like your Grandpapa deceased!" cried his mother. "We'll have to take a trip together, it's been too long since I've visited my brother on the Islands."
Weysh shook his head. "Not the Sunrise Isles, Maman. The Moonrise Isles."
"...oh. Oh, that is something. Have you ever met anyone from the Moonrise Isles, my love?" She directed the question at Montpierre.
"Never," he said, and sighed. It turned into a fit of coughs that had Sylvie leaning forward in concern. He waved her off as he brought a kerchief to his mouth, and spoke again once the coughs subsided. "Of course she's from the Moonrise Isles."
Weysh tamped down on his guilt. His Given was who she was. Yes, he'd hoped to settle with another dragonkind, but apparently that wasn't Bian's will.
"So you're to be married, I take it?" said Montpierre, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"As soon as possible."
"Splendid."
Anger flushed the back of Weysh's neck. "Look, Montpierre, I know you were itching to stick another dragon in your family tree, but consider yourself lucky to even have me."
"Yes," Montpierre drawled. "I cannot contain my glee at having to leave my estate to my wife's bastard dragon son."
"Stop it now! Both of you!" shouted Sylvie. She looked close to tears. His mother hung her head, silent, as always.
It was time to leave before he said something he would later regret, but it would be a record-breaking shortest visit home.
"I just wanted to share the good news," he said, voice clipped. "I'll be going now."
Sylvie rushed over from her place at her father's side. "You won't even stay for dinner?"
He softened at the disappointment on her face. "No. Sorry, lovely. But how about sometime next week I pick you up and we spend the day together?"
"I will not have Sylvie riding dragonback—"
"We'll go by tram," Weysh snapped at Montpierre.
Sylvie clapped, "I love riding the trams!"
Weysh chuckled. "I know." He hugged her. "Until then, en?"
He turned and gave his parents a mocking bow before sweeping out of the room.