Heart of the High King (D'Vaire, Book 19)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “You mean you didn’t enjoy getting to see my socks and calves?” Rafe asked with a chuckle. “Sullivan bought me a pair of pants once that I thought were too high. From that point on, he gave me shit that was higher and higher to piss me off and make me look stupid.”

  “He’s a fucking dick.”

  “I thought he was my friend.”

  “It was a betrayal on every level for you, wasn’t it?”

  “I never saw it coming. Will you help me shop for clothes when I gain weight? We can do it online.”

  “Nope, not helping you.”

  Rafe was taken aback by his refusal. “Why the fuck not? You always look nice. Fucking hell, there I go with that word again.”

  “Larissa picks out everything. I can’t match shit, and I don’t even have colorblindness. I’m just fashion challenged.”

  “Really? These little quirks of yours are awesome.”

  “Lie back down here, I was enjoying our cuddle time. I found some night-lights we can customize. I’m going to make some with the D’Vaire emblem—which we’re going to have to update with something that represents you—for in the hall and in here, but I think I’ll do one with a picture of Mortis for the living area.”

  With a little scoot and a wiggle, Rafe managed to get into his comfortable position leaning against Aleksander again. It was unnecessary for it to be changed for him, so he ignored the comment about the D’Vaire emblem. “Why in the hall?”

  “I don’t know. Midnight snack or something? That way it will be lit enough for you to find the light switch. We can do something fun in the closets. What do you think about a tasteful nude?”

  “You aren’t putting naked pictures of yourself on the internet, and why in the closet? I’m not going to get up in the middle of the night to change clothes or something.”

  “It would be pictures of you, not me, and I just want to be thorough. Maybe I’ll do an ‘A’ for my closet and a fancy ‘R’ for yours. Hmm, thoughts on the bathroom?”

  “No way in hell is anyone going to take naked pictures of me. But you could do a photo of you wearing a towel in the bathroom.”

  “You, maybe, not me. Just you wearing a towel. You can put on your crown if you want to get fancy.”

  “I don’t have a crown.”

  “I know, we’ll get Madeline working on it. What do you want it to look like?”

  “Yours,” Rafe stated firmly.

  “It doesn’t have anything of you on it. What if we added your dragon?”

  “You think we should?”

  “Yes. Let’s do everything we can to welcome him back.”

  “Okay. You know, I think I can afford one of these tablets.”

  Aleksander let out a dramatic sigh. “I’m going to need to be appeased with many kisses later.”

  “You’re still not getting in my pants yet.”

  “You are in no condition for sex, Your Highness. You can hardly walk.”

  “Sander. I’m going to point this out because you might be just a bit confused. You can do it lying down. I’m not even sure it’s possible to do it while walking.”

  “I just want you to know that we’re going to do this on your timetable. When you’re ready to take steps into deeper intimacy after you’re better, tell me, okay?”

  Rafe bussed Aleksander’s mouth. “There’s been too much separating us, and we’ve been robbed of enough time. I’m only waiting to move forward in our relationship for my body to heal. My mind may never catch up with everything that’s happened, but I’m not going to waste one fucking minute of my life with you.”

  “We’re on exactly the same page.”

  Chapter 47

  When Aleksander first heard the screaming, he thought it was part of his dream, but the terrified sound brought him to full consciousness. Springing into action, he lifted his lashes to find Rafe thrashing next to him as he shrieked. In pure panic, Aleksander yelled his name as Rafe suddenly sat straight up in their bed with his eyes open. His mate jolted forward farther, as if he were trying to crawl away, and Aleksander tried to grab him and wake him simultaneously. They fought for several minutes; then Rafe slumped against him, his breath coming in pants. Aleksander’s heart was pounding in his chest, and he pulled a nearly limp Rafe into his arms.

  Keeping hold of Rafe, Aleksander snapped on the light. Peering into the pale face of his mate, he saw Rafe’s pupils were dilated, and there were beads of sweat on his forehead. Their gazes locked, and Aleksander broke a little inside at the fear emanating from Rafe.

  “I’m so sorry,” Aleksander whispered. His lips caressed Rafe’s clammy forehead as the door to their bedroom whipped open.

  “You guys okay?” Brogan demanded. Mortis raced in and woofed at Rafe.

  “We’re okay,” Aleksander responded quietly.

  The dragon charged into the room, apparently unconvinced, and he frowned fiercely when the Grand Warlock appeared.

  “The Cwylld stones, baby,” Brogan complained.

  “Yeah, like I care,” Dra’Kaedan retorted, shutting them inside the room and giving his attention to Aleksander, who was still cradling Rafe. His mate had latched on to his T-shirt with his fists and was slowly catching his breath. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Rafe, you need anything?” Aleksander asked him softly.

  “Mortis, I’m trying to relax. I didn’t mean to wake anyone up,” Rafe murmured. “Was I screaming?”

  “Yeah, did you have a nightmare?”

  “Nothing I can ever remember when I wake up,” Rafe explained into Aleksander’s shirt. “They started in the hospital.”

  “They?”

  “They’re called night terrors. I’m sorry.”

  “No apologies. What do you need, babe?”

  Rafe pulled away and faced the two men in their room watching them curiously from the bench at the end of their bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you guys up.”

  The pair exchanged glances, and Brogan shrugged while Dra’Kaedan’s expression turned wicked. “We weren’t sleeping, so no worries.”

  “Please don’t share any details,” Aleksander pleaded, rubbing Rafe’s back in an attempt to soothe him.

  “The good news is that we’d just finished,” Brogan supplied.

  “You want a snack or something, Rafe? Cake always makes me feel better,” Dra’Kaedan said.

  “Except you ate it all,” Brogan pointed out.

  Dra’Kaedan frowned. “Good point. What about a beer?”

  “I could use one,” Rafe answered, leaning his head against Aleksander’s chest.

  “We’ll go grab a six-pack. The extras can go in your fridge in the living area. You want chips or something?” Brogan asked. Getting to his feet, he took Dra’Kaedan’s hand and they headed for the door, with Mortis on their heels.

  “That’d be great. Thanks, guys,” Aleksander responded. Once the two men and the wolf were gone, his full attention went to the man in his arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I just feel like an idiot for waking everyone up,” Rafe muttered, straightening enough that their eyes met. “I guess they fixed the scars on the outside, but I still have the ones on the inside.”

  Aleksander cupped his cheek and gently laid a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I’m proud of those scars. I am in such awe of you. I can’t know what it’s like inside your head. I didn’t go through the horrors that you survived, but I’m always going to be here for you when you need to let some of that shit out. I don’t care if it’s two in the morning or the middle of the fucking day. I’m your mate and, from the moment I met you, I knew my true purpose in this life was to be your partner and best friend. I told you before, Rafe—you’re my hero, and my heart beats for you.”

  “I love you too,” Rafe said. Tilting his head up allowed their lips to meet. When Rafe swept his tongue inside, Aleksander took full advantage and leisurely enjoyed the unique taste of his other half. The door burst open, and Aleksander winked after ending their caress as the G
rand Duke and Grand Warlock handed them beers and a giant bowl of chips. Brogan disappeared into the next room with more snacks, which he put away, then returned.

  “We’re out. Have fun. That kiss was sexy but I gotta tell you, it’s still kind of weird to see Aleksander kissing a man,” Dra’Kaedan observed.

  “Yeah, he’s not bad for an amateur,” Brogan said.

  “Amateur?” Aleksander asked. His brow lifted and he dropped his hand away from Rafe’s face.

  “Rafe’s the first guy you’ve kissed. No worries, you’ll get better with experience,” Brogan responded.

  Dra’Kaedan crossed his arms. “I hope you’re not suggesting that he’s going to be kissing anyone besides Rafe. Or that somehow, it’s bad to only be with your mate because hello, I was completely inexperienced when we met.”

  “I wasn’t trying to say that at all,” Brogan argued. “I was just trying to make a joke because he’s new to man love.”

  “I can’t with him sometimes,” Dra’Kaedan announced, stalking to the door. “Text me if you need anything. I won’t bring the goon with the lame sense of humor.”

  “Thanks, guys, for everything,” Aleksander responded. “And Brogan? Fuck you, Rafe and I got this.”

  “Any time you want me to watch and offer pointers let me know,” Brogan taunted.

  “Someday I might actually have to kill you,” Dra’Kaedan snapped. “Good night, guys.”

  When the door shut, Aleksander could hear the pair arguing as they crossed the hall to their room. Rafe shifted as he sat up to drink his beer, and Aleksander reluctantly allowed some distance between them so he could do the same.

  “I’m gonna go in the other room and watch some TV. It takes me a while to fall asleep after a night terror,” Rafe explained and tried to shove off the covers, but Aleksander laid a hand on his thigh.

  “We can watch it in here. I don’t mind staying up with you. Do you want to put a movie in or try to find something on television?”

  “I don’t care. Whatever. Just nothing heavy.”

  “Okay,” Aleksander responded. Pulling up an animated movie with some dolls that discover they’re freaks that he’d enjoyed, he was cuddled close to Rafe as they watched the lighthearted show. There was nothing he could do but try to soothe the many ragged edges of Rafe’s damaged soul. It made him wonder if the strength of his dragon was no accident. Perhaps Fate had selected Aleksander to have such an extraordinary beast because she understood Rafe would need it to give him a new lease on life. If that was the case, Aleksander did his best to send her his thanks, and he vowed to do everything he could to protect his mate.

  ∞∞∞

  Jeremiah Wellsdraconis lived in a paradox. Somehow, the Dark Indigo Duke at D’Vaire had found his ad for virtual dragon training and he’d started working with Mac’s brother, Carter. That tenuous link to D’Vaire hadn’t impressed anyone at Court Wells, not that Jeremiah had expected it to. From the time he was young, he understood he wasn’t liked. The answer to why was, however, still unreachable. His parents were a mystery, and he’d been shuffled from household to household as he grew up.

  As he got older, he’d dived into volunteer projects and used every free moment to learn about dragon training. It had disappointed his king, who already had a duke with those duties, and he considered Jeremiah rebellious for his studies. But Jeremiah hadn’t been deterred; he was fascinated by the relationship between man and beast. That moment they became one was powerful, and he’d yet to personally experience it.

  With so many hours of his day dedicated to projects, it wasn’t easy for him to make ends meet, but Jeremiah was able to sell some of his paintings and do odd jobs to pay the rent on his crappy apartment. Then one day, Emperor Chrysander met his hybrid mate and asked the D’Vaires who they used to train their drakeling. Jeremiah’s work with Ellery—who made history when he became the first-ever hybrid to survive—had catapulted him into the stratosphere. From across the continent, people suddenly wanted him to call or video chat with their unshifted.

  It wasn’t just dragons that wanted his help either, not that Jeremiah cared. Believing his calling was to train, he squeezed in every person that he could. The income he generated finally helped him breathe a little easier when his bills needed to be paid. With less worry over that, Jeremiah could spare more hours to his fervor for painting. If dragon training was his mission, then art was his passion. Jeremiah dreamed of moments in galleries where he could display the canvasses that exposed images torn from his soul, but he was aware those were fantasy and not reality. Art was a tough business, and he had no clue how to even get his foot in the door.

  When people asked, he downplayed everything. Even when broached by Ellery after he’d been commissioned for a painting as a holiday gift for High King D’Vaire, Jeremiah had insisted it was part of his little hobby. In a perfect world, his existence would be balanced with both helping others relate well to the living being inside them and his paintbrush. Instead, he found himself locked in a cage of trying to please an entire court of people who now resented him.

  Not one person was proud of his accomplishments. On the contrary, he was considered a social climber and was lectured constantly about his grandstanding, which was ridiculous. Jeremiah never spoke of his now dear friends at D’Vaire and the Draconis penthouse. But to Court Wells, he was an insignificant nobody who’d upstaged their own duke. It hurt to be accused of trying to use the people who had grown close to him because of their kindness, and Jeremiah wished he could understand why he was treated so poorly, but he didn’t even have a person to go to for answers.

  After a long day of being degraded, even though he’d once again volunteered for everything in his town, Jeremiah turned his phone on and finally found a moment to listen to his messages from the past few days. The new High King had left him one, and he was thrilled. His smile brilliant, he pushed his blond hair out of his face as he dialed the number Rafe D’Vairedraconis had left for him. Carter had filled Jeremiah in on all the details regarding Aleksander’s mate through text messages, which were easier for him to answer with his busy schedule, and he couldn’t wait to meet the incredible man.

  “Hello?”

  “Your Highness? This is Jeremiah Wellsdraconis. I got your message. I don’t know if I can help you reconnect with your dragon, but I’d sure like to try.”

  “Oh hey, thanks for calling me back. You can just call me Rafe, I don’t even know how to be a High King yet, let alone deal with the title stuff. I lost my dragon. I never had a real relationship with him. I was forbidden to shift when I wanted, so I rarely got the chance. We didn’t have the fond connection I understand most shifters do. I’d love to know what that’s like, but I don’t even know if it’s possible to…I guess, invite him back?”

  “Okay, well…let’s just start over. We can start at the very beginning as if you were a drakeling like me. Things have changed as the centuries have passed, and when we were spread out not everyone put much stock into it. I’m sorry, I don’t know how old you are. Did you have a trainer?”

  “I’m eight hundred and thirty-two. I was trained by my father and brother. I’ve been doing research, and they didn’t do a lot of the stuff like breathing exercises or some of the other more modern approaches. Basically, they just told me to stay focused and be strong, so I wouldn’t die.”

  “From what I understand, there were quite a few kings who had that approach if they didn’t have a resident duke dedicated to drakelings. I do think a positive attitude is an important aspect but also centering yourself. Tell me, do you feel your beast inside? Is his presence there at all?”

  “No, I feel nothing. It’s not like when I was drakeling and I had that reassuring presence he gave me. Like, I knew when we shifted, I was going to be okay. He was strong. I was a black dragon and that pissed off my family, which turned my pride into shame. So right from day one it was a failure. I regret that.”

  “Can I ask why you think he left? Do you feel it was due to th
at lack of respect for the connection or his irritation and anger at being confined inside you?”

  “I think those were symptoms. I don’t know how much Carter told you, but I was kidnapped, and at the beginning, I feared I’d lost the chance to be with my mate. I feel like that was the last straw maybe for my dragon. Like if he couldn’t be with Sander’s dragon, he was out.”

  Jeremiah liked that Rafe had a nickname for his mate, and the warmth in his voice as he said it made him smile. There was a great deal to commend about the new High King. Rafe was being ruthlessly honest about his life and his dragon. “That does sound like a good theory. From what I’ve learned, nothing is stronger than the bond between two mates. Like us, they yearn for their other half. If he believed he’d never have his other half, then he understood that to mean crossing the veil would expedite the process.”

  “Yeah, like ‘come on, let’s get this shit over with so we can be rebirthed and be with Sander again.’ That’s kind of the conclusion I came to as well.”

  “So, maybe that’s where we start. Focus on your matebond. It’s nearly complete, right? You’re just missing your dragon biting Aleksander. If we latch on to that last piece of it, maybe we can coax him back somehow.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what. I’m going to put together a plan for us and get together the list of things I want you to work on daily. I’ll have it ready by tomorrow. Maybe we could video chat?”

  “Yeah, sure. Sander can help me figure out how to do that.”

  “Great. Tell him I said hi, and I can’t wait to meet you in person.”

  “Thanks so much, Jeremiah. I really appreciate your help.”

  Jeremiah hung up and grabbed the binder he’d put together on the different ways he believed helped relax someone so they could reach their beast in a peaceful manner. Jeremiah worked quickly since he had to be up early to decorate the auditorium for the children’s play that opened tomorrow night; he’d overcommitted himself in some vain attempt to somehow fit into Court Wells and please the people who’d never found value in him.