He crafts the clasps free and I feel the weight of my metal want to fall down my back. James doesn’t dare let it drop. His fingertips brush my collarbones as he pulls the copper off me.
As he situates the new shawl, he’s generous with his touch. He brushes my neck, traces my collarbones, and lingers on every moment he can as he “places” the shawl. Then his knuckles dip to the dress’s neckline where the metal must be crafted to hook into the top of the dress. Both functional and eye-catching.
My skin feels like it’s on fire. My breathing turns heavy. I dare to look at him and his total focus is on me, on those clasps he’s hesitating to fasten because then this moment ends. Painstakingly slow, he crafts the metal through the loops and bonds the piece in place. And now I wear his metal,a symbol of union. On a smaller scale this act mirrors what Jeffrey will do to promise himself to Shelly in an hour’s time.
At last James steps back, and it almost feels like we’ve been making out this whole time instead of him securing metal on my shoulders. “Will you be my date to this wedding?” he asks softly.
“With our deals still intact, I assume?”
His eyes are like a storm, like with just a look he could break those deals in two. “With our deals still intact.”
“So out there we hate each other.”
“Out there we hate each other.”
“But everywhere else…?”
“But everywhere else know I crafted this shawl for you and only you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVEWHEN YOU ATTEND A WEDDING
JAMES
As first dates go, this one isn’t bad. Maybe a little forward and intimate, but being near Farren in any capacity is what I’ve wanted my entire life. And now knowing she likes me back and accepted the shawl I crafted for her—it’s almost too much to bear, I’m so happy.
I’m close enough to her to overhear when her mom notices the shawl. “You made this, Farren? I thought you were going for a simpler design.”
“I changed my mind. I… chose this.”
Her mom squints trying to read into her words. “Well, it’s gorgeous work.”
When her mother’s eyes connect to mine, I busy myself with a glass of water trying to look unbothered. Like I haven’t taken Farren’s words to heart. But she did choose me. Her wearing my metal, as old-fashioned as that notion sounds, still fills me with satisfaction.
Minutes later, music sings into the air. That’s our cue and I wipe the smile off my face. I put my everyday stoic mask on, but I’m coming to realize how much easier it is to contain your misery than your joy. Maybe one day I won’t have to do either.
“Let’s get this over with, right?” I fake grumble while offering my arm.
“Whatever,” Farren answers, matching my energy and looping her arm with mine.
Shelly and Jeffrey decided to get married on the flat area along the rolling cliffside by their home. They’ve let the beauty of their front yard speak for itself, with only a dusting of purple flower petals setting off the aisle and white chairs smushed into the grass on either side. The ocean sits in the far distance, a nice blue contrast to all the green. Simple. Elegant. Welcoming.
When Farren and I walk down the aisle, arm in arm, my mind goes blank imagining our own wedding. Too soon we part as I go to Jeffrey’s side and Farren to Shelly’s. Then Dr. Walsh walks Shelly down the aisle. She looks more than healthy,happy.
Then the music softens, and the ceremony begins.
Iron is wrapped around all four of their wrists, connecting them together, joining the couple. It’s tradition, the dragon metal crafted to wind around both their wrists and forearms so many times you can’t tell whose iron is whose. It’s how the phrase “metals shouldn’t mix” was popularized. Because if the metals were different then everyone could clearly see the individual’s metal separate from their partner. No unity. One would always be more powerful than the other, straining the relationship. Yet, I imagine gold and silver encasing Farren’s and my wrists one day.
I jerk myself from the daydream to listen to their vows. Words float into the air about love, togetherness, partnership.
“Shelly Price, I swear to be by your side from this day and until our last days.”
“Jeffrey Daly, I promise to be by your side from this day and until our last days.”
I try, I really try not to look over at Farren, but when I do, I find she’s already staring at me. I can’t look away and I almost miss the kiss until cheers arise through the crowd.
After the ceremony Farren and I are pulled into a myriad of snapshot pictures. The small crowd of guests meander toward Jeffrey and Shelly’s home, where outside tables have been set up. There, I’m expected to socialize. I talkmostly with clients I met making our rounds at the nearby farms. I evade questions about the future and if I plan to keep interning at the sanctuary. Most walk away or end the conversation when they realize I’m no Farren Walsh, who could talk with anyone about anything, but especially dragons.
“You always claim you’re so likeable and yet… no one wants to talk to you?” Farren says, suddenly beside me.