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“Tell me what?” Ella asked.
“Fracking noble Invicta,” Abbra muttered, shaking her head. “Leaving me to do his dirty work.”
“What are you talking about?” Ella asked.
“How much do you know about dragons?” Abbra asked.
“I… um, didn’t finish school,” Ella said, looking down at her hands in shame.
“Neither did Charl,” Abbra confided. “And he’s one of the smartest people I know, so don’t you dare be ashamed. Anyway, one of the least known but most interesting facts about dragons is that they form mate bonds.”
“Like they’re monogamous?” Ella guessed.
“Kind of like that,” Abbra said. “But they’re also obsessed with their mates, possessive over them, and will kill or even die to protect them. They only choose a single mate, and if a dragon’s mate should die, he will mourn her all his life.”
“So, he has a mate?” Ella asked. “Or he’s waiting to find one?”
“He does have a mate,” Abbra said. “And it’s you. Or at least it will be if he claims you. Claiming is a full physical coupling. And if he never does, it will still always be you. He will never form this bond with another.”
He was her mate. Or at least he was supposed to be.
This was why she felt an unearthly pull toward him. This was why she had instinctively shared her body with him, without shame or fear.
And it was also why he was gone.
“He left me because I’m his mate?” Ella asked, needing to be sure.
“An Invicta warrior would never shirk his duty to fulfill his own needs, is what he said,” Abbra explained, then placed a furry hand on Ella’s knee. “He thinks he’s doing the right thing. But he’ll regret this.”
But Jhon’s future regret would never comfort Ella.
Furious and heartsick as she was now, she couldn’t bring herself to crave his suffering. She still only wanted him to be happy.
And that was part of the mate bond too. She was sure of it.
“So, it was inevitable,” she said, realizing it slowly. “This whole time, it’s been like I was reading off a script, and I didn’t even know it. I’ll spend my whole life pining for him whether I want to or not.”
“The world is not a fair place,” Abbra said carefully. “But you can choose how to take this loss. You can accept it with as much feigned grace and dignity as you can, for your son’s sake, and hope you really feel that forgiveness over time. Or you can let this turn you into a bitter woman that I know you don’t want to be.”
Tears threatened again. Ella bit her lip, fighting them back.
“Don’t you dare hold those tears back,” Abbra told her fiercely. “Go ahead and let it hurt a while.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, Ella sat on Abbra’s front porch, rocking herself in one of the pretty painted chairs that Charl had made by hand.
She was still feeling wrung out inside, but calmer now. One day, she would accept this as something that had happened in her past. One day, she would be proud of the way she pulled herself together for her son.
But that day wasn’t today.
Abbra sat on the rocker beside her, talking softly with Bo, who was living it up and chuckling at nearly everything she said, a pair of dimples appearing in his chubby, lilac cheeks.
Ree-lah and Manx were gathering cuttings of lichen from the island, while their two kids played in the maze. The plan was to teach Ella about cultivation of species tonight over dinner.
If she felt up to it.
“My, but he’s lovely,” Abbra said wistfully, smiling down at Bo.
