A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania 2)

“About that,” Gary said. “I still haven’t figured out how that was an opposite of what we already were.”

“It was a talking mirror,” I said. “It wasn’t supposed to make sense.”

“I mean, your opposite being a bull dyke makes sense, but the rest? Not so much.”

“How does the opposite of me being a bull dyke make sense?”

Gary looked at me with a blank expression.

“You’re insulting me, aren’t you.”

“Well I’m certainly not insulting bull dykes. I love them too much. They give me things like self-esteem and fancy woodwork.”

“Hey,” I snapped at Vadoma. “I don’t care if I don’t know you. You are still my grandmother. Get your hands out from my inner thigh. I swear to the gods. You don’t need to draw symbols there, you pervert.”

“I can still see your balls,” Gary whispered.

“Today is terrible,” I grumbled. “Absolutely terrible.”

“He never shuts up, does he?” Randall asked Morgan.

“Not even when he’s sleeping,” Morgan said.

I glared over at them, using my hand to shield my eyes from the warm sunlight. We were outside in the middle of the fields to the east of the City of Lockes. We stood inside the fenced grounds that the knights used for training. The wooden dummies were anchored into the earth, slashed and chipped from repeated sword strikes.

Kevin was currently standing over by a rebuilt shed, laughing with Justin as they reenacted the time that Kevin had kidnapped the Prince and knocked me through the weapons’ storage. I glared at the both of them as Kevin gave a whiny shriek I was sure was supposed to be me as he flailed backward toward the shed. Justin roared with laughter until they caught me watching them. Then they pointed at me and started all over again, because they were assholes and I hated the both of them.

Tiggy sat on the ground, my parents in his lap, petting each of them in turn as they lay against his chest. Mom looked a little tense, watching Vadoma as she moved around me, trying to cover my skin with the disgusting concoction that she wouldn’t tell me the ingredients of. (“It’s best if you don’t know—I don’t want to see a grown man cry. Again.”)

The King stood with Morgan and Randall, all of them muttering to each other, probably telling more secrets that I would find out later and be super pissed about. I had decided as I was being dragged out of the city that I didn’t like any of them anymore, especially when they wouldn’t tell me what they were talking about. I didn’t have time for maturity after hearing my grandmother tell me that she was going to need me to get mostly naked so she could rub me with her paste. It wasn’t what I had expected anytime I had envisioned a family reunion. So I let the old farts mutter amongst each other, probably discussing destinies that I wanted nothing to do with, and that would probably end up with me getting killed or, at the very least, mildly aggravated.

Ryan, of course, stood near Ruv, who watched me passively, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Ryan was posturing, because that’s just who he was. He had his sword drawn and was hacking away at one of the dummies. There were unnecessary sword flourishes that looked like he was trying to twirl a baton, manly grunts that would not have been out of place at an all-male bordello, and posing so perfectly that the sun fell on the sweat on his exposed biceps, making him glisten as if he were being kissed by the gods. If it were anyone else, I would have thought it was slightly dashing and immaculate. But now that I knew him as well as I did, I thought something entirely different.

“My boyfriend’s a douchebag,” I said, sounding resigned. “He’s hot, but still a douchebag.”

“Pretty much,” Gary said. “Mine’s a dragon who we once tried to kill, and then he tongue-fucked my butt, and now we’re married or something.”

“You win,” I said, because it was pointless to try and get one up on a unicorn.

“I usually do. Are you done getting bad-touched by your grandma?”

“That sentence vexes me,” I said. “If I’m being honest.”

“It should. I’m vexed, and I’m not being bad-touched, nor am I related to you. Though I suppose if there is inbreeding in your family history, it would make sense that you are the finished product of such.”

“I would murder you if I wasn’t almost covered in slime.”

“Your balls are still hanging out.”

“Yeah.”

“I see you took my advice and started manscaping.”

“Yeah.”

“It looks nice.”

“Thank you.”