Falk Clan Tales - Chapter 83: Chapter 83

“What are you doing here, Dev?” Nicholas asked from the trailer they had used as their office when they were building their house.
His brother looked like hell. He seemed exhausted—haunted, as the telltale bags under his eyes portrayed. Devine walked inside the trailer where he’d tracked him down through the bond that connected the brothers. It was so odd now. Used to be just the two of them, but now he had ties to the Falk Clan, and to her.
Fuck.
How could he have behaved so recklessly? Tying that sweet Wolf to a monster like him? Devine took a moment to gather his thoughts, feeling his beast settle at being nearer to his brother. The Dragon had been pissed when he’d walked away from his slumbering mate.
Mate. No.
Devine could not keep her despite what the beast wanted. His arrogant lizard had grown selfish, possessive the second he’d seen her. But Sunny was too good to be tied to the likes of him forever. He stole a glance at Nicholas.
His big brother was still pissed about their fight, not that he’d blamed him. The male had only been teasing Sunny, and Devine had gone and blown it all out of proportion. He just could not stop fucking things up.
He exhaled a deep, long breath and allowed himself one moment of pride. Nicholas had really done it. His big bro had gone ahead and moved their office trailer to the parcel of land he’d been eying for months. He must have gotten the Falk brothers to lease it to them, after all. Judging from the stack of yellow parchment on his desk—permits to build, Nick had also gotten approval from City Hall to build the four-unit development he’d proposed to Devine a few months back.
It was a good idea. The property was a mile and a half away from their home and further still from Castle Falk. Located across a somewhat private street from the ocean, with the intracoastal at the rear, the units would be perfect for anyone looking to rent a private, secluded bit of paradise.
New Jersey winters could be harsh, but summer was magical, sometimes not ending until late October. Nick’s plans were to include a small yard behind each unit and a dock in the back for fishing and smallish boats. The big draw was, of course, the beach right across the street.
Yes, they would definitely see interest from renters. But it was not the money that made his brother want to start working on the project immediately. Devine was all too familiar with the emptiness driving Nick.
It was a deep-seated, gnawing, almost constant craving—a need to do something, anything, to try to stop the memories from rushing into his overcrowded brain. Devine shared his brother’s history and was haunted by the same ghosts. How many nights had they both taken up arms for Dragomir? How many battles had they bled fighting against whatever and whoever the old Chief had decided earned his wrath?
Too many—that was the only real answer. He’d started to think they would end their existence as mad wrecks long before they were freed of that terrible island. But look at them now, he growled and ran a hand through his newly shortened hair.
“Well? I have work to do, Dev. Say what you want to say, or get the fuck out.”
“You order the concrete yet for the foundation?” he asked, stalling.
“Yes—and the lumber, and the nails, the bricks, and roofing too. Why are you here, Dev?” he repeated.
Nicholas raised his face to look at his brother, his eyes bleeding to the orange-red color of his Dragon. He’d been doing so very well here in Maccon City, fitting in with the town and the local Wolves, and the Falk brothers. Suddenly, Devine realized he missed him. Used to be just the two of them until, suddenly, it wasn’t anymore.
It was silly, and stupid, and he knew they were better off here with this Clan—but a small part of himself felt left out with his brother always joking with Niko Falk, or grumbling at Edric, laughing with Callius, or giving his opinion to Sander about his latest artistic creations.
Fuck.
He was so broken. Nick was light and carefree in a way Dev could never hope to be. Always working to fit in, to do what was best for both of them after they’d accidentally started a war with Castor Falk. Luckily, the ChangeDragon had forgiven them both. But Dev had been a selfish asshole.
Broken. I am so fucking broken.
Devine was not good like his brother. The atrocities he’d committed were too great to wash away. He’d been Dragomir’s knife, but even with the bastard Chief’s death, he was still unclean. Devine was no good for his brother, no good for the Clan, and no good for her.
The realization had his stomach bottoming out and heart feeling heavy inside his chest. For the first time, Devine truly saw Nicholas’ struggle to keep him sane and alive. A Dragon needed his maiden, or he would perish, that was the legend. Sunny was his mate, but he did not deserve her. Maybe he could give his bond to Nick. Maybe then they could both be happy?
His soul ached, and his beast rebelled. The Dragon roared and burned him from the inside out with his flames filling the mystical place he waited till called. Fuck, he did not like that idea at all. But what else could Devine do?
“I fucked up, Nick,” he said, not quite knowing how to start.
“Do tell, brother. How did you fuck up? You lucky bastard! I have been searching for months to find a mate and here one falls into your lap, and you can’t even see her for the gift she is—” Nick snarled and shoved his papers right off his desk, facing off with Dev.
“I won’t fight you again, brother. Look, I am no good, Nick. You know what I was. My past haunts me, and I acted too rashly.”
“How?” his brother demanded.
“I claimed her, but maybe I can change it, though. Maybe I can transfer my bond to you,” Devine growled, running his hands over his face to try to stop the Dragon from charging through his skin.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Sunny. I did it. I fucked her, and I bit her, but we both know I can’t keep her. I will destroy her,” he whispered the last so low he barely heard himself.
“You finally claim your maiden fair, the one who can save your Dragon from a fate worse than death, and you want to throw her away?” Nicholas raged.
“No! I thought maybe you can—” Devine’s Dragon snarled. The creature was tearing him apart from the inside, and he could not stop the pain. Fuck, he deserved to feel every inch of it tearing through him as he stupidly tried to suffocate the only good thing about him. His connection to her.
“You really want to give away your mate, Devine? Listen to you, for fuck’s sake! Don’t you have a heart at all beneath your stone spikes? You were given a gift, Dev. How could you think to pass her off to me like some loose wench? What the fuck?”
Though apt, given what he’d said, Nicholas’ description of Sunny enraged Devine’s beast to the point of no return.
Loose wench? Motherfucker.
Dev stalked his brother across the trailer and slammed him into the wall. Nicholas snarled back, grabbing his brother’s wrists, and stopping his assault.
“Sunny is no wench,” he grunted.
“No? Then why offer her to me like a fucking slice of pizza, Dev? What is wrong with you?”
“You know what’s wrong! I was his fucking sword, Nick. I killed, not just the Demons we were charged with stopping, but other Dragons. Anyone he saw was a threat. Anyone who had something he wanted⁠—”
“I know, Dev, fuck, I know, alright? But that wasn’t your fault,” Nicholas answered. “None of it was your fault, and it sure as fuck was not your choice. I was your older brother. I should have protected you⁠—”
“Bullshit. That is not on you,” Devine said, releasing his brother and stepping back.
His chest felt heavy. Too fucking heavy, and he had no idea what he was going to do next. Sunny, his Dragon supplied the answer and images of her filled his mind.
Sweet, beautiful Sunny with her curly hair and free smiles, her ugly Crocs, and her bountiful laughter. And her gorgeous, curvy body that made his mouth water and his dick hard as a rail just thinking about it. Sinking into her tight sheath was the best feeling Devine had ever known in all his very long life. It felt like heaven.
It felt like coming home.
“Dev, look, you and me, we’re good with each other. The past is done. We were not to blame, brother. Dragomir abused our ties and bonds to suit his desires. He was not a good Alpha. Callius is different. This place is different. Can’t you feel it? Won’t you give up this morbid existence and trust us? Trust in your Clan, Dev, and they can make you whole,” Nick said in earnest.
Dev sat down heavily in one of the folding chairs and leaned over with his elbows on his knees. He held his head in his hands and tried to make sense of all of this. How could he be a good mate with so many stains on his soul? What could he offer the beautiful Werewolf who’d brought him more pleasure than he’d ever felt? And it wasn’t just her body that was healing him. It was her heart. She was too good, his sweet mate.
Es meus, the Dragon seconded, approving of Devine’s description of Sunny at last.
“Look, Castor and I had a meeting this morning. He knows we are having some difficulty adjusting, and he wants us to come to Thanksgiving dinner at castle Falk,” Nicholas explained, and Devine went rigid.
“What did you say? You know I don’t do dinner parties—” he began, but his Dragon seemed to take hold of his vocal chords, and he could not get another word out.
“Not usually, no, but don’t you think you should try, Dev? For you, for me. For her. Invite your mate to Thanksgiving and show her the Clan. Let her decide if you are truly her fate, then you can claim her⁠—”
“I have already claimed her. But what if she learns what I have done? What if she hates it? If Sunny finds out the truth, and leaves me as I deserve, my Dragon won’t survive, Nick. I need to know you will watch out for her,” he whispered.
It took a lot for him to admit that which scared him the most. But if Nicholas promised to look after Sunny, then Devine would willingly accept his Fate. He just needed her safe and cared for. Yes, he’d been fighting this mating and arguing against it, but he was already too attached for his own good.
Shit.
Devine was in love, and it just might kill him.