“I’m not here to answer your questions,” Graham growled as he stepped into the cottage. “I’m here to find out what you’ve done to Scarlet.”
In a moment of pure mischief, Mal nearly told him exactly what he’d done to Scarlet, laying her back in the moss with her hair loose, kissing her neck, coaxing those noises of pleasure from her parted lips... he managed to keep himself from speaking, but Graham seemed to take the grin he wasn’t able to smother quite personally.
“You keep your hands off of her and your nose out of her business,” Graham snarled. “I don’t know what you’ve said to her, but you can’t stop the sale of the resort and this evacuation is bullshit.”
Mal sobered. “I assure you, it isn’t.”
Graham closed the distance between them. “This is Scarlet’s resort. You can’t take it from her without going through me.”
We can go through him easily, Mal’s dragon hissed, suggesting that they do exactly that.
But Mal restrained himself from rising to the gardener’s threat, choosing instead to sit and gesture Graham to a free chair. Graham crossed his arms over his chest and remained standing. “Suit yourself,” Mal said mildly. “Can you tell me what her powers entail? That pressure in the room when she’s angry, do you know how she causes that? I presume it’s an instinctive power; she doesn’t have any of the usual trappings of structured magic.”
Graham’s expression of confusion and mistrust only deepened. “I’m not telling you anything,” he said shortly.
Mal sighed. “I understand that you have no reason to believe me, but I am actually pursuing Scarlet’s best interests here.”
Graham snorted, but his initial bluster had muted as Mal continued to maintain his composure, to his dragon’s disappointment.
“A terrible battle is coming to this island,” Mal said frankly. “And the more I know about Scarlet, the better I’ll be able to protect her.” He gestured to the books: a selection of mythology and magic.
“Scarlet doesn’t need protecting,” Graham growled. “What kind of battle?” he added.
“The kind of battle that isn’t yours to fight,” Mal said cuttingly. “This is my fight, and I’m sorry that it had to happen here of all places, but I don’t have the time or energy to watch over a bunch of misfit shifters who aren’t smart enough to get out of the way. My first goal is making sure that my mate and I get out of this alive and if you aren’t going to be helpful to me, I suggest that you go help Scarlet with the evacuation.”
Graham’s whole body changed, reflecting his astonishment. “Your mate?”
“Scarlet is my mate,” Mal said. It was an unexpected new thrill to say it out loud, even if the audience was looking more distrustful than impressed.
“If you’re pretending... if this is some kind of game...”
Mal flowed to his feet. “I don’t have time to convince you and I don’t care if you believe me.” He was as tall as Graham and as powerfully built. “All you need to know is that I will do everything I can to save her.”
Graham looked back at him with challenge and didn’t say anything, clearly not convinced... and not ready to back off. They stared at each other for a long, silent moment.
“I don’t trust you,” Graham said frankly. “You act like you’re better than everyone, like you know more, like that gives you the right to make decisions for the rest of us. I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but if you hurt Scarlet, you’ll be sorry you ever set foot here.”
“I have no desire to hurt Scarlet. I want to save her.”
“Do you love her?”
The question stole Mal’s breath. “More than I ever thought possible,” he admitted.
“Then why are you making her give up everything she’s worked so hard for?” Graham demanded.
“I’m not,” Mal said as calmly as he could manage. “It’s complicated. There’s a fight coming—”
“We’d fight for Scarlet,” Graham growled, his emphasis implying that he’d rather leave Mal to defend himself.
“This isn’t a fight for fists,” Mal said impatiently. “This is a fight far beyond anything you could possibly imagine and you’d only be in the way.”
Graham took that about as well as Mal expected him to, turning red and growling before he turned and stomped away.
Chapter 18
Conall’s cottage had been fitted with a visual door alert; when Scarlet pushed the doorbell, the lights inside flashed so that Conall would know someone was there even if he didn’t have the assistance of Gizelle’s touch.
“Come!” he called gruffly.