Page 41 of The Ferryman’s Rest Inn & Grogshop

Meanwhile, Owen woke to bright sunshine on his face. It made the white sheers glow as they billowed in the breeze through the windows. Even from the bed, he could see the vibrant turquoise and cobalt of the sea. George’s arm tightened around him.

A gruff voice in his ear said, “Go back to sleep.”

Owen grinned, squirming out of the bed. “But we’re in Greece and it’s gorgeous.”

George squinted in the bright light, his dragon-green eyes watching Owen’s excitement as he stared out the window. “Okay,” he said, getting up. “Let’s go explore.”

In another room, Fyr was getting dressed after showering. He hadn’t been able to sleep until the early afternoon and probably only for about an hour. His usual insomnia had gone into overdrive.

Aunt Benvair had taken him in when he had no one, and he’d repaid her kindness by encouraging her granddaughter to go on this reckless mission. The guilt ate at him.

Hair still wet, he left it long, snapping a hair tie around his wrist for later. Needing to move, he left his room on the quiet coast and started walking. The sun and breeze felt so good, he decided to keep walking.

Alec knocked on Benvair’s door. He’d heard her walking around, so he knew she was up.

“Come in, Alec.”

He did and found her sitting at a small table beside the open window. “Good morning, Grandmother.”

“Afternoon,” she corrected. She waved him forward and pointed at the empty chair. “Did you get any sleep?”

He shook his head. “I can’t sleep in sunlight. I tried hanging a blanket over the windows, but it was too thin to do much.” He gazed out the window at the glorious blue of the sea. “Besides, it’s so beautiful here, it’s hard to not feel like closing my eyes is wasting it.”

One side of her lips turned up on a nod. “It is indeed. How are you feeling about our discussion this morning?”

Alec stared out the window, catching a glimpse of Fyr’s pale blond hair in the sunlight. More of them were up and moving around. “I hate that Coco carries the weight of my imprisonment.”

Benvair leaned forward and took her grandson’s hand in her own. “I should have seen it. She was such a quiet, reserved child. I thought I could distract her with school or clothes. I even tried horseback riding.”

Alec looked up at that, intrigued by the idea.

Benvair shook her head. “Our scent scares them. No horse would come near us.” She moved the sheer covering the window farther to the side so they could both see out. “After a while, I just thought that was who Coco was. George had a deep sadness in him too—we all did—but he was better at masking it, at compartmentalizing it. Coco doesn’t have that skill.

“When she started drinking, I called your brother home. I’d become the nag who always found fault. She needed someone to confide in and I was too…staunch, I suppose, too severe. I’ve never been a granny who bakes cookies and offers hugs. I failed her.”

“Gran,” Alec said on a head shake, “you’re a dragon. We’re not known for our cuddly natures. And you had Grandfather Ddraig as a mate.” He grinned, remembering. “Soft and sweet would have been crushed under his boot.”

Smiling, she wiped a tear from her eye. “True. He had little patience for soft. Oh, but he loved you three so much. Coco, especially. She had him wrapped around her little finger. Anything she wanted, he raced to get her.” She stared down at the ring she still wore on her left hand. “I hope she remembers that, too. Not just that awful day in the woods when we lost you.”

“Are you angry with Fyr?” Alec asked.

Benvair sat with the question a moment and then shook her head. “He knows her in ways I don’t. He meant well and he may end up being right, assuming she returns to us.” She rested a hand on her stomach. “I can’t help feeling like I’m rubbish at being a grandmother. I’ve lost two out of the three of you.”

Alec huffed a laugh. “At least you have Owen keeping an eye on George. He won’t let anything happen to him.”

She nodded, staring out the window, catching sight of George and Owen, hand in hand, walking along the cliff. “Yes. Thank goodness for Owen.”

George paused on their walk. “I smell Coco and Sam.” He walked to the very edge of the cliff, while Owen held tightly to his hand, trying to pull him back.

George squeezed Owen’s hand on a chuckle. “Love, if I fall, I can shift and fly. I’m fine.”

Owen looked around them and found no one. “It’s daytime, though.”

“And we’re in some kind of mythological waystation. I’d venture to guess a dragon is the least interesting thing they’ve seen.” He glanced over Owen’s shoulder. “Not to mention, I have yet to see anyone other than the barman.”

“Yeah, I noticed that too.” Owen craned his neck, trying to see over the edge without getting any closer. “It’d be creepy if we weren’t in paradise.”

“There are stairs.” George crouched down, giving Owen his back. “Climb on. I want to see where these go.”