A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania 2)

But he hadn’t seen the full picture woven by fate.

Because sometimes, the power of love is greater than an oath could ever be. And as soon as the knight saw the boy standing near him on his wedding day, he realized that some things were meant to be broken so that others could be made whole.

And then they fucked.

Holy shit, did they fuck. In so many godsdamned positions, it wasn’t even funny. It shouldn’t have been possible, some of the ways they were able to bend. This one time, the boy took the knight up against a wall and just railed into him and—

“REALLY, SAM?” Morgan of Shadows said, face in his hands. “This is what you’ve spent your time on?”

I looked up from where I’d been reading to him from my Grimoire. He sat across from me in our laboratories underneath Castle Lockes in his old rocking chair that he’d had for a century or two. I thought it’d been a gift from someone important, possibly even her, the one who’d helped him build his magic, but I’d never gotten the courage to ask. All I knew was that no one aside from Morgan could sit in that chair for fear of having their fingers turned to spiders (a threat I wasn’t sure I wanted to see if would be carried out).

I sat opposite him, resting my Grimoire in my lap, carefully turning the thick pages as I read off my condensed (and highly accurate) biography, something Morgan said was necessary. A wizard’s Grimoire wasn’t just for ingredients for potions or steps to a spell. It was a wizard’s history, both personal and professional. Morgan had tasked me with writing down my history in order to make sure that anyone who followed me understood the steps I’d taken to become the person I was. Granted, he’d been kind of vague when giving me this assignment, but I could admit to taking a few creative liberties. To be fair, though, I thought future generations should be aware of just how much sex I was having and who I was having it with so they could completely understand me as a person and realize how awesome I was. There were even pornographic stick figure drawings in the margins that illustrated my prowess.

“Yes, well, there’s nothing wrong with having a healthy libido,” I said, trying to figure out if I should write the time I sat on Ryan’s face or if I should maybe go to church a little bit more. It really could have gone either way.

“I’m sure there isn’t,” Morgan said. “Not that I would know anything about that.”

“Oh, right. The asexual thing.”

“Yes, the asexual thing.”

“So, how does that work, honestly? You didn’t find anything about what I just wrote titillating?”

There was the side-eye I knew and loved so well. “You might have lost me at the part of Ryan getting… how did you so eloquently put it? Oh yes. Getting railed.”

I frowned. “Huh. Well, to each his own, I guess. I am so happy that you know that about yourself. It truly shows a mark of a great man when he knows who he is through and through. Personally, I am so okay with the sex, you don’t even know.”

“Oh, I think I do, given that I hear about it all the time.”

“We’re bros. I’m supposed to tell you stuff like that.”

“Bros,” Morgan repeated.

“Exactly. Bros tell each other everything. It’s the bro-code. Everyone knows that.”

“Maybe bros should learn to practice some restraint.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very bro thing to do. As a matter of fact, that might be anti-bro, and I would never do that to you. Now, should I continue, or…?”

He didn’t look pleased at such a prospect. “How much more does it go on?”

Pages upon pages. “Oh. Um. Not long.”

“Sam.” Only he could say my name with so much exasperation and fondness all at the same time. It was really quite remarkable.

“I might have written an ode to his penis in iambic pentameter that goes on for forty-seven stanzas,” I admitted. “I feel better now that I’ve said that out loud.”

“Of course you did.” Morgan sighed.

“Did you know that penis doesn’t rhyme with as many things as one might think? That was a lesson I learned far too late.”

“Oddly enough, I don’t spend time trying to rhyme words with penis.”

“Wow,” I said. “You put a lot of disdain in such a short sentence. I wish I could do that.”

“It comes with recent experience,” he said dryly.

“I’ll get there, I’m sure.”