Chapter 64: Sierra

Sarn's pain fills the room like a heavy shroud. He's angry and desolate. I know some of the story that brought him to this point. He grieves for his dead bride and he did something to upset the other dragons. I have no clue what it is. I head back into the kitchen and fill two more plates with the leftover food from the stove.
I sit Sarn's fresh plate of pork and rice in front of him. "Sorry," I mutter before meeting his eyes. "I have a temper and the easiest way to bring it out is to say something bad about my brother." Heat creeps into my cheeks. "Or make me think you're insinuating something bad. We're very close and his heartache is mine even though he tries to keep me from feeling it." My eyes drop and I sit in my chair again. I tip my head so I can see him from the corner of my eye and wave my hand at his plate. "Please eat. You need the calories."
Sarn picks up the new fork resting on his plate and eats every last bite. I like watching him enjoy the meal after seeing him struggle just to keep the soup down. He looks better, his color is good, and he doesn't appear to be shaking as much.
We both finish eating and without a word begin picking up the broken glass and food from the floor. We work in tandem like we've done it before. I can't help but inhale his scent when he leans close. My wolf lets me know she wants him. She's resting on her haunches ready to pounce. She's never been this irritatingly persistent and I can't help wondering if it's because she knows he's at the top of the food chain. Vampires are the deadliest beings on earth. Dmitri told me a short while ago that a dragon, in his natural form, is deadlier. It's hard to believe after seeing Sarn in such a bad condition for so long.
"Do you want me to trim you hair?" bursts from my mouth as soon as we've finished cleaning up. I don't want to leave and it's all I can think of to keep me here longer.
Sarn's hand goes to the unruly strands. His expression lets me know he's about to object. Before he can tell me to leave, I continue. "Friendship, that's all I ask. Truthfully, I don't want anything more. I could really use a friend." Liar, liar pants on fire. We both want the other. If I can smell his arousal, he can smell mine. I don't care. I do need a friend and in that I'm not lying.
He shrugs. "Are there scissors available or will you hack it off with a blade?"
I can tell from the way he says it that he doesn't really care which I use. So like a man. "There are scissors in the bathroom drawer. I'll grab a chair while you soak your head under the water again."
He does exactly as I ask. This is a surprise because I know he doesn't take direction well, which is a complete understatement. I watched him for far too long while I worked behind the bar at the nightclub. Many of the other women in the nightclub watched him too. It was something about his cold stare and his "I don't give a fuck" attitude that had women flocking to him. Being gorgeous didn't hurt either. He never offered to help the bear shifters at closing, just sat at what became known as his table. Some internal clock would finally signal that he needed to get up and stumble to his room. He'd take a bottle of whiskey with him while looking entirely devoid of emotion. He hid his sadness and anger behind solid walls most of the time.
Then there were the nights that his demons took over. He'd pick fights by making passes at women who obviously brought dates. Those were the worst nights. Humans visited the club and beastkind had to tone down their superhuman strength when dealing with Sarn. He was too drunk to care and had to be brought down quickly, usually by three or four bouncers. Staying away from the dragon at those times was next to impossible. I wanted so badly to soothe his pain.
In the hours before the nightclub closed for the evening and he wasn't too drunk, he held court at his table. Women sat on his lap, leaned against him, or ran their hands over his shirt and arms. I followed those female hands as they dipped below the table and I knew exactly when they were touching more than his shirt. I wanted to sever fingers at this point, but I could never look away. He didn't encourage the women, but my heart broke a little more each time he stood up, took one of their hands, and led them toward his room. The night I opened his bedroom door, I'd missed seeing him leave but knew he had been drinking heavily. I was worried and went to check on him. Seeing him disappear with women was one thing. Seeing him in bed with two of them was entirely another.
I was devastated and at the same time too angry to be around. I took the next two nights off work and went to my cabin in the bear territory. I shifted to wolf and wandered through the forest for almost forty-eight hours and let her have the lead. I learned early in life that I had to try and hold back my wildness. Shifting to wolf and staying in beastkind form was the only way I could control myself. I have no idea how my parents put up with me. Aside from my wolf form, my brother was the only one with the ability to calm me. When he became distressed because he refused to face his demons, I took over as the composed twin. It's like his troubles gave me the strength to join both sides of myself and find harmony in being wolf and human. Or maybe the easier explanation is that I finally just grew up. Until, that is, I saw Sarn with two women. My thoughts were pure aggressive animal. So, with distance between me and the dragon, I used my wolf to straighten out my head.
After I was calm enough to return to work, I caught Sarn looking at me every so often. I expected him to invite me to his room and I will not lie about what my answer would have been. I wanted Sarn, I still want him. But no, I was never one of his women at the nightclub. And dear Goddess that pisses me off because I wanted to be.
Today, with the alcohol out of his system, he's calmer and the anger he usually carries is buried for the moment. I enter the bathroom carrying the chair after I hear the water shut off.
The space is small, but he can sit down and I can move around him if I wiggle a bit when I need to move in front of him. I grab a comb out of the same drawer that holds the scissors and take a chunk of his hair between my fingers. Slowly, I untangle the wet mess. His hair is a light brown, though right now it appears much darker because of the water dripping off of it. The tangles make it difficult to work the comb through, but I take my time and enjoy being this close. I breathe in his scent and I would swear my wolf purrs. Finally, I move in front of him. He doesn't shut those gorgeous eyes, which have gone from dark to the most incredible color.
"They turn almost purple on occasion," escapes from my mouth before I can stop myself. Heat rises in my cheeks because my voice sounds so loud in the small room.
"The color of my dragon," he replies softly.
I stop what I'm doing and look closer, my embarrassment completely forgotten. "Dragons have a color?" I ask in disbelief.
He cocks his head slightly and a smile curves his full lips. My heart flutters at the soft, sensual look that appears on his face. "Did you think us see-through?" he asks as his grin grows bigger. His voice is a low, growly rasp that does even more to my growing need for this beautiful man.
It's so good to see his disposition change for the better, so I smile back. "Well, no. I have no idea what color dragons are. For some reason it just never occurred to me that they would be purple."
Now his firm chin rises in a jaunty manner. "We are defined by the striking colors of our dragon scales. This identifies our family line even though only four mature male dragons remain. I'm the last of the purple dragons." His eyes go black again as his suffering reaches clear to my soul. Even my wolf whines softly. He's such a disturbed man with so much pain held tightly inside. I wish he would cry again so I could pull his head to my breast. He needs to let the pain escape.
I cup his chin in my palm and lean forward to brush my lips across his cheek. "I'm sorry, Sarn. I've grown up with the pain of having no mother. I cannot comprehend losing everyone."
His eyes move away and I know he's uncomfortable with words of sympathy. I release him and concentrate on the tangles in his hair once more. When I finally have it all untangled, I begin snipping away at the strands. Not too short and not too long, I know exactly how I want it cut. We remain silent until I take his chin and tip his head to the right and then left. "It won't fall across your eyes for a while. I'll cut it again when it grows out."
He grabs my wrist with his large hand. "What makes you think I'll be here?"
I like having him touch me. I feel a buzz where we connect and wonder if it's our magic. "I hope you will stay around. It's hard for me to make friends quickly. I'd like a chance to know you better."
His fingers squeeze a little more firmly. "It will be hard for us to keep our hands off each other, but it would be wise to do so." He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. I can see the uncertainty in his eyes when he speaks again, "I find myself in need of a friend too."