Page 18 of Immortal Bonds

The man nodded slowly. "It is, and I really want to know why someone is commissioning you to design a stuffy of my dragon. I know it's mine because of the distinct color. That and the way my wing has a certain shade different from anyone else in my family."

Creighton didn't have to look at the stuffy in his hands to know the man was right. He'd been working on it, and the shade had been a difficult task, one he was very proud of, but it seemed it had been a dead giveaway. Creighton cleared his throat as he eased the dragon back down towards the desk. He didn't think the man would take it, especially since he wanted answers.

Creighton clasped his hands together in front of him, trying to prevent the man from seeing them shake. "As much as I would like to tell you who it is, I can't. Just as you asked for privacy, I also allow that for my clients. The person who asked for this presented me with a photo, and that's really all I can say."

The man cursed softly and turned away from Creighton. He paced the length of the store, his eyes glowing, flickering back and forth between his human and dragon self. When he finally stopped, there was enough distance between them that Creighton felt safe about the situation. He didn't think he would be hurt.

While vampires could heal, he never liked risking what would happen to his blockers and their effectiveness. Being overloaded was miserable.

"I will respect your policy. You protecting what I have told you is just as important as this person also being protected. I do ask one thing, though."

Creighton tilted his head and eased back down into his seat. He jumped up when the man came closer, not wanting to be in a lower position before him.

"I'll see what I can do," he said.

"I would like to send a message with your order, if at all possible. Just a note letting them know I would be interested in meeting them. If they're so interested in my dragon, maybe they'd like to see him in person."

Creighton hesitated. It didn't seem like too bad of an idea. Maybe Eden would find it sweet. Or maybe it could cause an international incident with the royal family. He didn't know what to do, but he could at least take the note. He would think on it, and in the day or so he had left to finish the project, he would come to a final decision.

Creighton cleared his throat. "I will allow you to write a note. I really need to think it over on whether or not I'll give it to this person. I'm not sure what your intentions are, or really what theirs entail, but I can hold on to it and maybe I will feel like giving it to them when I see them again."

The man gave Creighton a gentle smile. "Do you have a pen and paper I can use?"

After pulling open his desk drawer and handing the man the sheet, Creighton picked up the dragon and went back to working on it. He was in the hand-sewing stage, piecing it all together bit by bit. The man took a while.

From the corner of his eye, Creighton could see him write a little bit and then stop, add another sentence or two and pause again. By the time he finished, Creighton was almost done with the dragon. He'd picked up speed knowing that the man was there and wondering what to do. The more his mind whirled, the faster his hands moved.

When the man handed him the folded piece of paper, Creighton took it along with the pen. "I'll put this in the envelope right now," he said, then did just that. Once it was sealed, he turned the envelope over. Creighton almost wrote Eden's name on it but stopped himself.

The man chuckled and snapped his fingers good-naturedly. "Almost. I'm glad you caught yourself for the sake of their privacy, but me and my dragon are a bit disappointed we didn't get lucky."

Creighton shook his head, though he was smiling. "It's going to work out," he told the man. "You and this person will probably meet at some point. I don't know when, but hopefully soon. Maybe you're meant to be, or something. Anything."

The man hummed. "Or maybe they're my fated mate."

Creighton had thought of that. He considered whether Eden knew the man before him was his mate, and that's why he was getting the stuffy. Or maybe Eden simply had a crush.

It had to be tough being a royal and dating. You couldn't just go out like anyone else. And being on an app, like the one Creighton used, was risky too. Even if you made a connection, meeting up with that person could lead to disaster.

Creighton pushed the thoughts away as he told the man he would consider the letter offer once more and tucked the envelope away.

Before he left, the man looked around the space. "I would ask if there's anything I could get the person you're making that for, but I feel as if them requesting my dragon is enough for now. Maybe I'll stop by in a few days. Will you have sent it by then?"

"I will have sent the dragon, yes. The note is to be decided," Creighton said matter-of-factly.

"Thank you," the man told him before opening the door and leaving.

Creighton watched through his shop windows as the man turned and moved down the sidewalk. Once he was out of sight, Creighton slumped in his chair, exhausted. What in the world just happened, and how was he going to explain this to Eden?

He suspected a courier was going to come pick up the package, not Eden himself, which meant he had to either try and relay this by phone, get the package to the courier along with the letter and hope the courier didn't read it, or make a trek to the castle himself.

Creighton had never considered that as an option, partly because he was a vampire — which wasn't always welcome in places like that — and also because he didn't need to be around anyone royal who might recognize him from his previous life.

He'd hoped it had been long enough that no one cared any longer. Maybe they'd all moved on, and he was simply a folk tale.

His phone pinged, and he looked down to see a message from his Daddy.

What are you up to, Little Biter? You've been quieter today.