“Not gone,” growled Havoc, as he swung his head toward Marcus. “And she’s okay, but you’re not going to fucking believe where she is.”
Before I could ask for details, both Cara and Nikolai stiffened.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, worried.
Nikolai had also gone very still. “Someone just came through the wild gate near the caves.”
Cara nodded, turned away, and raised hands that glowed as she sketched a new gate between trunks. “It’s Bess. And she’s got both company and news.”
40
Riley
I landed on my knees. Hard.
I stared at fingernails that turned to claws, which then fell away only to sprout jet-black talons. Long, curved, and gleaming. My arms sprouted yellow scales, then red, then black with clear spikes in the center, before fresh black scales pushed the other ones away, chasing up my arms.
Seemed my Morph side had decided to commune with my emerging Dragon. But this time, I envisioned myself as me, and the scales yielded to bare, smooth skin. The talons fell away, clinking on the cobblestones.
Fang vibrated against my neck, and a few stray hairs erupted. I sneezed.
“Riley?”
I looked up—and up. From where I rested on my knees, the Centaurina looked huge.
Triss. My damned subconscious mind had hooked into my talent and brought me to Marcus’smother.
I slumped on the road outside their front door, with the sky above us lightening to dawn. I guessed that bright golden light outside one’s front door was hard to ignore. How was I going to salvage this situation?
“Is Marcus okay?” his mother asked, worry written across her beautiful features.
“He’s fine,” I said, and then ruined it all when tears flooded my eyes. In another second I’d be blubbering like an idiot, in front of the mother of the man I was fated to mate, if he’d ever get his head out of the sand. Fuck.
I tried to get control over the impending tsunami. Nope. Wasn’t happening. My cheeks were now wet, dammit.
A helping hand beneath my elbow raised me to my feet. “Come with me, my dear.” The Centaurina’s voice brooked no rebuttal.
And with his mother supporting my soggy, shaky self, I staggered into Marcus’s home.
* * *
Triss took me to a chair in her kitchen, hovered while I sat down, and then busied herself pulling things out of the fridge.
I wanted to tell her not to go to any trouble, but I didn’t trust my voice. She didn’t ask any questions, which I certainly would have if my son’s chosen mate had tearfully landed on my doorstep. Her presence was surprisingly soothing, considering her size. Perhaps it was because the kitchen was built for her, and fit her perfectly.
When she placed a handkerchief beside me along with a glass of what could be milk, I realized she was giving me time to compose myself. When her gaze caught mine, I saw the worry and curiosity in it.
As I wiped my face with the handkerchief and attempted to pull myself together, Fang hopped onto the table. She stuck her little front legs into the milk and then proceeded to run them through her mouth, before starting to purr.
Triss’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that a Webspinner?”
“Yeppers.” My voice squeaked, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “She belongs to—a friend.”
Her brow rose at the hesitation. “She’s a pet?”
I nodded.
“One rather venomous pet,” she commented.
