Cora sighed with frustration. “Then you need to sort that out. I know boys have weird ideas about what’s okay and what’s not when it comes to sisters. The problem is you guys never stop to ask those sisters what the hell they want.”
She spun on her heel and left. He winced at the sharply slammed door. Well he’d completely fucked that up, hadn’t he?
Shaking his head, Stig shut the door to the bathroom and shed his dirty clothes. A shower did little to clear his mind. He couldn’t argue with Cora’s points. She was right on all counts. He was stuck in the worst of places. Coming to terms with his feelings for a best friend’s sister was one thing. Telling that little sister he was actually an immortal dragon shifter? Not so easy.
As if about to brave the lion’s den, Stig cautiously entered the kitchen. Cora radiated anger. She slammed down plates and silverware and hefted the steaming dish of lasagna over to the table. The dish thumped loudly against the pot holders she’d placed to protect the tabletop.
He’d have to be an idiot to take a step farther. And yet…and yet there was something so incredibly alluring about Cora in her current mood. A pink flush colored her face and highlighted her cheekbones and lips. Her eyes seemed to sparkle. Every huff thrust her breasts against the low neckline of her green tank top.
The urge to pull her close and apologize overwhelmed him. Stig questioned whether that would smooth over their tiff or cause more problems.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Cora snapped at him from behind the island.
Stig stiffened at her biting tone. He squashed the snippy reply on the tip of his tongue. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened upstairs. You’re right. You should have a say in whatever this is that’s happening between us.”
Cora noticeably relaxed. “Thank you.”
Stig took a guarded step forward. “Cora, it’s not just about Hector and my feelings about becoming involved with a friend’s sister. There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. Serious things. Dangerous things.”
“Like the holding cell in your basement?”
Stunned by her question, Stig gaped at her. His stomach lurched. He was torn between anger and fear. “You’ve been down in the basement?”
Cora tipped her chin up as if to show him she wasn’t scared. “I heard weird noises last night. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a wounded animal.” She swallowed and braced her hands against the counter. “What’s going on, Stig?”
Realizing this was a pivotal moment in their relationship, Stig ran a hand through his hair and gestured to the table. “Sit.”
“All right.” Cora took her seat at the table. She sat with hands folded and waited patiently.
Stig sat across from her and reached for a serving spoon. It was easier to talk when his hands were busy. She followed his lead and filled her plate. He waited until they’d had a few bites before breaking the silence.
“My last name isn’t Wyvern. It’s just a name I picked years ago.” He got up for a glass of water and brought Cora a can of soda and a glass. The tab snapped and the soda fizzed as it spilled into her cup. He returned to his seat and took a sip. “Do you know what a wyvern is?”
“It’s one of those things on those old family flags, right? Like a snake with wings,” she said uncertainly.
He nodded. “Close enough.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“More than you probably want to know,” he grumbled. “Every three years, I go through a
She narrowed her eyes. “Every three years?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve gone through this before?”
“Yes. Hundreds of times.”
“That would mean you’re—”
“Substantially older than I look.” Stig picked up his fork and tucked into his dinner. “If you want proof, I’ll show you later.”
“I do.”
Stig sensed Cora was trying to wrap her mind around his brief yet cryptic explanation. She hadn’t accused him of being crazy or run from the house. So far, so good. He figured breaking the news about his immortality was the best way to ease her into the truth. The dragon business could wait.
He decided a change of topic was needed and gestured to his plate. “This is good. Not that I’m surprised,” he added with a smile. “You should think about opening a restaurant.”
Cora snorted. “Really, Stig? How do we go from you trying to convince me that you’re, like, some immortal Jekyll and Hyde to talking about me opening a restaurant?” She twirled her fork between her fingers. “Besides, restaurants are hard work.”
He grinned at her willingness to go with it. “And a bakery isn’t?”
“It’s different. I
“You will reopen your bakery, right?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure how or where.” A look of shame clouded her face. “My insurance agent isn’t sure the policy will pay since I’m kind of a criminal. I mean, that’s if I don’t end up in the pen.”
“You’re not going to prison, Cora. I won’t let that happen.” Stig hadn’t considered the effect her poor choices would have on her ability to rebuild. She’d made a mistake but didn’t deserve to be punished forever. “I’ll loan you the money to start over if the policy doesn’t pay.”
She squirmed in her seat. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Stig. Money between friends has a way of turning ugly.”
“We’ll make it work.”
Cora didn’t fight him on the issue. She ate in silence. He could almost hear the turning gears as she processed their bizarre conversation. Whether she believed him was still to be determined.
They finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen together. Tense silence stretched between them. Stig eyed the window and gauged how much time he had until the change. Knowing the time was coming, he reached for Cora’s hand. She stiffened at his touch but he kept hold. “Come with me.”
Her fingers relaxed in his. “Okay.”
Stig led her upstairs to his bedroom. He’d imagined taking Cora to his room before but never under these circumstances. It seemed almost anticlimactic to sit her down on the side of his bed. She looked so young and fragile with her hands clamped between her knees. He hated himself for what he was about to do. In just a few moments, he’d shatter everything she’d ever believed to be true.
“I don’t know why I’ve kept all of these things.” Stig removed a keychain from his bedside drawer and unlocked the door to the corner closet. He dragged a large trunk to the edge of the bed. He handed Cora the keychain. “The skeleton key opens this trunk.”
She took the keychain and stared at it. “What’s inside the trunk?”
“My history.” Stig cupped her cheek as he bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to lock myself in the basement. Promise me you’ll stay out of there tonight.”
She gulped and bobbed her chin. “I will.”
“When you’re done, close the lid on the trunk. I’ll put it back tomorrow.”
“And the key?” She lifted the keychain he’d never let anyone else but himself touch until now.
“You keep it. I trusted you with my house key. I trust you with this one, too.” His fingertips trailed along her jaw. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Stig cast one lingering glance at Cora before leaving his room and rushing downstairs. The sooner he was in chains tonight the better.
Cora turned the keychain over in her hand. Everything Stig had told her at dinner seemed so implausible. He’d insinuated he’d been alive for quite a long time. And what was all that business about going through violent phases?
