by JD Monroe
“I brought you dinner,” he said.
“You didn’t have to,” she said. “Someone would have brought it.”
“Well, someone doesn’t have to. I did,” he said. He smiled. “They had tirioc, and it’s very good.”
“My favorite,” she murmured, inhaling the tantalizing scent.
“Is it still?”
“Maybe,” she said. He glanced around, holding up the dish helplessly. “We can sit in the workshop.” She brushed past him, then hopped up to sit on the empty table. “I would never do this if things were unpacked.”
“There wouldn’t be room once your things were strewn everywhere,” he teased. He set the dish between them, then removed the cover with a flourish. Inside was a generous portion of smoked meat, with slices of golden crusty bread and a small dish of what looked like vok-thari, a savory bean paste.
“The mighty general delivering dinner to a subordinate,” she said. “How thoughtful.”
“No,” he said. He helped himself to a piece of the meat, then licked his thumb clean. “Kaldir bringing dinner to Sohaila. Besides, I think you answer to Velati, not me.” Despite the playful banter, his brow furrowed in consternation.
She dipped a piece of the bread into the paste and gestured with it. “I was—”
“What the hell did you mean it wasn’t true? That I didn’t love you?” he blurted. That was Kaldir. Always to the point. Heat rolled off him, betraying his inner turmoil.
“I’ll give you credit for bringing me food to ease into it,” she said mildly, setting the bread back on the plate. “What’s confusing? You left. Your message was clear.”
His amber eyes darkened. “I loved you. And I’m pretty sure I still love you, even if I can’t get a damn thing right with you.”
“You left,” she said emphatically. “You told me you loved me and that you wanted to be with me, and then you left without a word. You lied to me.” She could still remember standing outside his door in the barracks of Ironhold, hearing the dead echo and then silence that spoke volumes. Then the words from their commanding officer. He requested an assignment in Flame’s Echo. All she could do was wonder what she’d done to send him running to the edge of their lands without a word.
“I never lie, and you know it,” he said hotly.
“Then why did you leave after you told me you loved me?” Fifty years, and it felt like only moments had passed. With her stomach churning and heart thumping, she felt like that embarrassed, heartbroken idiot all over again, staring blankly at Captain Rezihn as he delivered the news that Kaldir was too cowardly to deliver himself.
“I left because I loved you,” he said, his brow furrowing. “You put the most important decision of your life into my hands.”
“No, I didn’t.”
His voice rose, uncharacteristically sharp. “You certainly did,” he said. “You told me that if I asked you to, you would stay with me forever.”
Her anger flared bright and hot in her chest. If she was still a dragon, she’d be breathing smoke and reminding herself not to pick fights she couldn’t win. “Yes. That’s what people who love each other do. They stay together because they don’t want to be apart,” she said. She pointedly pushed the stone dish back toward him.
He scowled and shoved the dish back at her with a noisy scrape. “I didn’t want to be apart, but you were called.”
“And I didn’t have to go. I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t left me.”
“That’s exactly the problem!” His voice echoed off the stone wall.
“How was that a problem? If you really loved me, why wouldn’t you want me to stay? Why would you run across the entire country to get away from me?”
He threw up his hands. “Falmina—”
“That’s not my name.”
“No, I’m talking to the foolish girl who forced me to decide for her,” he said, eyes flashing with light. “Falmina Flamewrought was called by the Skymother herself to become a healer. One of the greatest honors any Kadirai could receive. She was touched by a goddess. And she was afraid. Don’t you remember, lying there in tears night after night, wondering why it was you? Why it couldn’t be someone else?”
She was silent.
“When you told me that you wouldn’t go, I knew you meant it. You would have ignored the divine call for me and spent your life in the Iron Blade,” he said. “I’m not worth that. And I couldn’t bear the burden of knowing that you denied what you were meant to be for me. I loved everything that you were, flaws and all. And more important, I loved you enough to make the decision that you wouldn’t make for yourself, even if it broke my heart.”
She felt like he’d slapped her across the face. “You hurt me. How do you not understand that?”
“I’m sorry that I hurt you. Maybe I should have given you warning,” he said. “But I didn’t trust that you wouldn’t follow, and I didn’t trust myself to stay here. One look at you and my resolve would have crumbled. I would have told you to stay, and that would have been the most selfish thing I could ever do. For the rest of my life, even if I had you, I would know that I had kept you back from divine destiny. And if I could be that selfish, I wouldn’t have been worthy of you.” He hesitantly reached for her hand. “And I was right. Look at you now. You’re incredible.”
The closeness was almost too much. She withdrew her hand, but he grabbed it, enclosing it between his larger hands. “You’re wrong.”
“No, I’m not. You know I don’t lie.”
“I mean about us. About yourself,” she said. “You were worth giving this up. It wasn’t your decision.”
“I know you thought so. And that’s why I had to be the wise one. I truly wish things were different, but don’t ever say I didn’t love you. You will not take that from me.”
His words struck her. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it. “Why do you keep saying you wish things were different? Fifty years apart and now we’re face to face again. What has to be different? Is it my face?”
His jaw dropped as he spluttered, “What? No. I’m three feet away and I can’t have you,” he said. He jerked his hands away like she’d burned him. “This is fucking torture, and I can speak from experience.”
“Why do you think you can’t have me?”
“Because of your duty,” he said. “You swore an oath to the Skymother.”
Her jaw dropped, and she nearly laughed aloud as she realized what he was saying. “Because the Marashti can’t take lovers?” He nodded, staring down at his balled fists. This devout, beautiful idiot. How could he be so endearingly stupid? “Kaldir, are you saying all of this because it’s safe or because you really mean it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you saying you wish you could be with me, only because you know you can’t? Like when you offer to help someone and hope they’ll say no so you don’t have to do it?”
He frowned. “Do people do that?”
“You probably don’t,” she said with a gentle laugh. “Most people do.”
“That’s not it. For the past week, it’s been all I can do not to touch you. That’s partially why I didn’t want you to come with us.” She nearly lunged for him, then thought better of it.
She moved the dinner plate to the closest shelf and scooted closer to him. Her heart thrummed. “Little spark,” she murmured. His eyes lifted to hers at the familiar nickname. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Just close them,” she said firmly.
He frowned at her, then with a sigh, closed his eyes. She just marveled at him for a moment. The Skymother had crafted a masterpiece in Kaldir Dawnblaze. Thick, dark lashes fanned over his cheeks. A coarse beard dusted his strong jaw. A thin scar split his left eyebrow, the result of a training bout that went bloody. There was a new scar in his lower lip, a tiny imperfection that only made him more beautiful.
With one trembling hand, she caressed his cheek. A tiny sigh escaped him as he leaned into her touch. She let her fingers dri
ft into his hair, then down the curve of his ear. It was like finding him all over again, when every inch of him was a new discovery. He gently grasped her wrist, turning it to kiss the palm of her hand.
“You shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, starting to open his eyes.
“Keep your eyes closed,” she said.
With her free hand, she carefully unpinned the veil and revealed her face. Her tongue darted out to trace the twisted scar through her top lip. Who was he obeying? Falmina, the silly girl who had stolen his heart? Or Sohaila, the woman he did not yet know? Fear and desire battled in her mind as she let her lips graze over his, savoring the blazing heat beneath his skin. His lips parted, and she leaned in, asking for more.
If their first kiss had been the stuff of childish dreams, then this was the answer to years of fervent prayer. Fifty years ago, she had resigned herself to never see him again, and yet here he was, claiming her with warm lips and a tongue that whispered blissful madness to her, in a language only they knew.
Though her dragon was long gone, there was still an unmistakable fire in her, an echo of how they had once burned together. She growled in frustration when he broke away from her kiss, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. “We can’t,” he said. “You’re not allowed.”
She laughed, leaning in to take his lips again. Despite his words, he responded to her kiss, meeting her with his lips each time. “I so rarely get to say this, but you’re wrong,” she said. He looked up, but she turned away. “Close your eyes.”
“Sohaila, I—”
“Close them,” she said firmly. As he closed his eyes again, she gently kissed the side of his neck. A low groan rumbled in his chest as she followed the trail up to his jaw, holding his chin firmly to keep him where she wanted. He could have easily overpowered her, but he let her control him, lips parted slightly. “Listen to me, you beautiful idiot,” she said. “I had to forgo sex while I was training. All the Marashti novices and initiates do.” She nestled her lips behind his ear. He gasped sharply. Some things didn’t change. “We have to focus on our studies, and sex makes it hard to control our al-hatari. Sort of like when we found our flames for the first time.” She turned his face back toward her. His eyes were still closed, his lips parted in anticipation. “But the Marashti are not forbidden to have a lover once they’re fully initiated.”
“Don’t bend the rules,” he said.
She teased at his mouth, kissing him and pulling away before he could do more. She relished the way he leaned after her, like he was trying to catch her. “You think I studied there for fifty years and don’t know the rules? Of all people, you think I don’t know exactly what I can get away with?”
His brow furrowed. “So what are you saying? Speak plainly.”
“I’m saying that if you really want to kiss me, then quit talking about it and just do it,” she said. “Things don’t have to be different.”
She had forgotten how fast he could move. There was a reason she’d never bested him in combat. In a split second, she was on her back, with a ravenous flame dragon kissing her, tongue claiming her mouth. She drew a sharp breath, suddenly fearful as she was out of control. “Kaldir, I—”
“My eyes are closed,” he said breathlessly. One big hand traced the unscarred side of her face, then trailed down over her chest, down to her hip, under her bottom to pull her closer. Instinctively, she parted her legs for him, letting him nestle into her. Even with layers of clothing between them, she felt the heat blazing in him, igniting her desire.
He broke away to kiss her throat, nipping lightly at her. She gasped sharply, arching up into him as he played her with perfect precision. He hadn’t forgotten, either, his teeth grazing gently in the hollows of her jaw, electrifying her senses. “Kaldir?”
“What?” he murmured.
“I missed you,” she said. His lips curved in a smile against her throat. Then he was on her again, ravenous and demanding with his kiss. Kaldir was the only man she had ever made love to, but she had kissed a dozen young, stupid dragons before she claimed him. Not one of them could kiss like Kaldir Dawnblaze, who was as commanding and sure as he was in battle.
With pleasure burning hotter with each moment, she hooked one leg over his, pulling herself tighter to him. He growled against her lips, grinding his hips against her. A delightful ache awakened between her legs. If he wanted to make love to her right on this damn table, she would agree without hesitation. For the first time since she’d been attacked on the road, the world was right.
A low chime sounded, seven times in succession. She ignored it, running her hands over his broad back and savoring the sinuous shifting of muscle. A sharp knock rapped on the door. He ignored it, still driving her mad with his kiss.
Another knock. “Sister?”
Of all the times…
Sighing, she gently pushed on Kaldir’s chest. “Who is it?” she asked.
“It’s Lahiri Mara,” the female voice said. “Sister Behla told me to make sure you found the sanctuary for evening prayers.”
“Vazredakh,” she swore. She clamped her hand over Kaldir’s mouth, suppressing a laugh as he nipped lightly at her palm. “I’ll be right there. I’m just changing into fresh clothes.”
“I’ll wait here,” Lahiri said.
Kaldir laughed quietly into her hand. She squeezed his jaw. “Go on, I can find it.”
“Are you—”
“I’m sure!” she exclaimed. “Thank you!” They waited in fraught silence. “Is she gone?” Sohaila whispered, releasing his mouth.
Kaldir tilted his head, eyes still closed. “I think so.” He sighed. “I suppose it really would be breaking the rules to skip prayers to fall into bed with me.”
But what a crime to commit. The mere thought of it sent a shiver down her spine. Lowering her voice again, she gently touched his cheek. “Will you come back and see me later?”
“I would much rather be here, but tonight I join the Firestorm and the others to discuss strategy. Given all we have to discuss, I imagine it will go well into the night,” he said. “I suppose I will leave you to talk to her. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You make time for me tomorrow,” he said. “And then, you and I are going to have a proper reunion. Rest up.” He nipped her lower lip, then got up, leaving her breathing hard. He cleared his throat, carefully adjusting his coat to hide the evidence of their interlude. Without looking back, he murmured, “Good night, Sohaila. It’s very good to see you again.”
This was not the first time that a kiss from Sohaila’s lips had changed Kaldir’s life. Their first kiss, a pleasant surprise amidst the wine and music of the Festival of Flame, had transformed him as surely as the first time he’d spread his wings. He’d had his eye on Falmina for months, but had been utterly oblivious to her interest until she sealed his lips with her own and told him he was hers. And here he was again, with the taste of her on his tongue to remind him that he was still hers.
It took all of his considerable willpower to leave her to her prayers and climb the spiraling stairs of Adamantine Rise to the war room. The world was crumbling all around them, but at that moment, making love to Sohaila was the most important thing in his world. To peel away the layers of silk, revealing that smooth, coppery skin and soft curves…
He gritted his teeth and drew a deep breath. Focus, Dawnblaze. At least the long walk had gotten his blood flowing to his brain instead of to his groin.
Adamantine Rise was an ancient stronghold, hewn from silver-flecked stone and decorated with the iconography of the Skymother. Its age imbued it with a certain sense of power, where his home of Ironhold was newer, but seemed more like a sword that had never seen battle. As he reached the top floor of the fortress, he heard a familiar voice.
“I am glad for your safe return,” his mother’s rich voice rang out from down the hall.
His heart pounded as he walked down the narrow hall. Wielding sharp silver spears, a pair of the Adamant Guard
flanked the double doors to the war room. Inside the round chamber, a number of familiar faces were gathered around the huge table. His mother, Viraszel Dawnblaze, held Velati Rimewing’s face and kissed his forehead like he was a little boy.
The older man wrinkled his nose, but smiled as he gripped her wrists. “You may not be so glad when you hear our news.” He turned and gestured to Kaldir. “General Dawnblaze.”
Viraszel raised her eyebrows at him, then gave him a simple nod. “I am pleased to see you have returned safely,” she said stiffly. She wore a uniform coat of black and silver like Velati, though hers was cut lower to show the intricate tattoos across her chest. Her dark hair was neatly braided and twisted into an elaborate style. Not a single hair was out of place; none would dare.
“Kordari,” he said reverently, giving her a half-bow. His stomach lurched as he drew himself tall again, mimicking her statuesque posture.
While his people held the utmost respect for their mothers, even bearing their names, he rarely spoke of her as his mother. It was not for lack of respect or love. Viraszel Dawnblaze was the legendary Firestorm, and he did not have the luxury of knowing her any other way.
As the last members of the war council filtered into the room, Kaldir took the seat next to Velati. Marlena was absent, which surprised him. She was nearly always at his side. Filling out the ranks of the Arik’tazhan were Farikul Frostbane and Lotheraos Skyborne. They were polar opposites; Farikul was a mountain of a man that dwarfed even Kaldir, while Lotheraos was barely bigger than a human. Next to Lotheraos was Rinata el-Fedr, an Edra clan leader who had been displaced in the siege of Arvelor. She had a sizable following of loyal Edra who offered their services as spies for their benefit.
A few minutes later, Queen Halmerah swept into the room, wearing a simple blue and purple gown. Her dark hair was loose, though she still wore an elegant silver crown. Captain Navan, head of the Adamant Guard, followed close behind her. Kaldir couldn’t resist the temptation to stare at him. Navan had made his prior visit quite uncomfortable, and was responsible for the persistent ache in his knee after a well-placed kick dislocated it. The other man caught Kaldir’s eye, then quickly averted his gaze. Kaldir smiled to himself. Small pleasures.