Daring Dragon's Dirty Secret (Shifter Doctor Daddies Instalove Romance 2)

CHAPTER FOUR

Nathaniel

Morning light fluttered over my eyelids, rousing me from my restless slumber. I reached in my pocket, plucking the newly damaged photograph from my jeans. As I held it up, sunlight splashed across the tattered edges, lighting them aflame.

I sighed. When was this torture going to end?

Dragging myself from bed was harder than I thought. I felt injured, and wracked from head to toe with the depressing feeling that I would always end up alone in my bed, as I had last night. I could have stayed with Geraldine, but then what would have happened?

Another mistake, I replied quietly as I shuffled into the grand hallway. Portraits of ancestors peered down their noses at me, some of them in dragon form while others remain intact as humans. I could feel their judgment. I didn’t need another mistake.

Laughter greeted my ears. It had been a few weeks since any sort of cheer had filled these halls, and that sound seemed displaced in an estate as expansive as this. My cousins were at the bottom of the stairs, taking up the foyer with their dragon forms.

Mat blew a small stream of fire. I clapped as I descended, applauding his efforts. “Seems Brianna taught you well.”

A frown stole my features and the blissful joy was swept away, replaced by an aching emptiness over my sister’s leaving us—and for how long? Who knew?

I cleared my throat. “I mean, good job, Mathias. Keep practicing. But do it outside.”

Mat shifted into human form, appearing flushed all over with embarrassment. “Sorry, Master Nathaniel.”

“Don’t call me that,” I sneered. “Now, where’s breakfast?”

Bartholomew indicated the dining area with a pointed claw. I patted his head as I passed, receiving a huff of amusement in response. Smoke curled around my fingers and followed me to the table. A lavish breakfast spread expanded before me, but all I wanted was cereal. That was the best cure for a hangover.

My father peered curiously over the top of his newspaper, judgment dripping from his pupils. He looked as if he wanted to say something.

I grabbed a bowl, poured cereal into it—some kind of sugary mess—and then doused it with milk. Once I had a spoon in hand, my father cleared his throat. Yep, he wanted to say something.

“A word, Nathaniel?”

“Of course, Father,” I mused, leaning my hip against the table. My crimson velvet robe draped open, revealing my green boxer-briefs.

He averted his eyes. “Why couldn’t you have gotten dressed?”

“Too rich for that.”

“Always the pompous one.”

I popped a spoonful of cereal into my mouth, munching loudly. Without swallowing, I said, “You’re the one who taught me that.”

“Yes, well, we haven’t been able to afford our . . . usual luxuries.”

I hummed. “I wonder why.”

“Because your sister took off with that thieving doctor!”

I rolled my eyes. Another spiel—I was just dying to hear what he had to say this time.

As I ate my cereal, I listened to him spout theory after theory about how Brianna had gotten roped into the wrong crew, how she shouldn’t have worked at that clinic, how it should have been me as head doctor of that practice instead of a lousy, poor, and conniving dragon.

“Please, Father,” I teased. “Tell me more of your disappointments.”

He slapped the table. “Don’t patronize me, Nathaniel! You’re just as much of a disgrace. Have you applied to any positions lately? Or could I trace your scent to every bar in town?”

“You have no idea what it’s like to be me.”

“How could I ever? You never let anyone in!”

I dropped the bowl on the table, cereal and milk spewing in every direction. A striking silence fell over us, tension etched into every corner of the room. That was the line for me.

“You’re a fool to think your actions didn’t push your daughter away,” I accused him. “If you would just open your damned eyes, you would see that.”

“How dare you say that!”

I flipped him off and headed for the foyer, barging between my cousins who were now in a heated battle with plastic swords. From dragons to knights in a matter of seconds—that was precisely how Brianna would have wanted them to be.

If only she were here right now.

I fled up the stairs, locked myself in my chamber, and hauled ass to the closet. All I wanted was a drink—and I wanted to look good while I searched for one.

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