He ambushed her. His tail snaked around her body and he pressed his belly to her back, flattening her wings with his own. They plummeted.
She fought him with teeth and claws, struggling in his grasp but he was the stronger.
The strike came quick and fierce. He penetrated her deeply. She shrilled, arching her back. He drove into her again, filled her until she felt nothing more than his pulsating shaft taking her beyond this existence.
They were one.
Wings beat in rhythm and broke their spiraling dive. They hovered now, cradled in the sky. Heartbeats matched. Minds touched. So driven by primal need, she didn’t recognize his mind at first. Tender and yet possessive, demanding and yet promising more, he held her to this existence.
He eased their twitching bodies out of the sky and coaxed a change out of her before she knew what was happening. Then they were tangled on the ground upon the smooth white gown they’d given her.
He rose above and possessed her again, magnificent with the sun’s rays silhouetting him and setting the highlights in his hair ablaze.
Some time later she found herself in his bed, being fed bits of something that tasted entirely too raw.
She turned her head away when he offered her more. “Where am I?”
There was a softness around the edges of Navarre’s eyes she hadn’t previously seen before. A relaxedness to his muscles, too, as if freed from an unseen burden. Relief? No pressure now to preserve his genetics?
Certainly she felt tranquil and it had nothing to do with relief and everything to do with the bone-numbing sex she’d just participated in. She was now thoroughly turned off to vanilla human sex, not that that was the Dragoon’s direct intent but it was a bonus to them anyway. Everything else paled beside dragon sex. Hmm, but maybe not Navarre’s naked body drizzled with chocolate and caramel. That made her wet all over again.
Navarre continued to watch her, idly stroking the length of her body with one hand.
“I don’t know what to say.” Suddenly shy, she tugged a blanket over her breasts.
“Cold?”
She shivered when his hand caressed her bare shoulder. Her nerve endings were entirely aware of what he could do to them. She shook her head.
Setting aside the plate of food, he settled himself more comfortably beside her.
What now? Was she pregnant? Her hand unconsciously slid to her flat belly.
Concern filled his eyes. “Have I hurt you?” He pulled back slightly and ran his hand from her shoulder to her hip, not quite daring to touch her below yet.
She shivered again, lips pressed tight. She didn’t trust her voice.
“Say something,” he begged.
He sounded so emotional, that she had to smile. Reaching out, she cupped his cheek. “You’ve ruined me, you know.”
His face fell.
“I’ll never be able to have any other kind of sex again,” she continued. “It pales to dragon sex.”
The jade fire in his eyes flared. “Lords.” It came out as a groan. He laid his head against her shoulder.
She rubbed his back, marveling at his sinewy muscles. He was so relaxed, like a sleeping lion or a sated dragon. Red welts marred that tanned surface, though. She spread her hand out over the welts, matching her fingertips with the lines. “I did that? Oh Navarre, I am so sorry.” She’d never marked a partner before. She swallowed a guilty lump in her throat.
“They do not hurt.” His voice was muffled against her shoulder.
Still aghast, she pulled a blanket up over his bare back. “Do you have some sort of salve I can put on that?”
He turned his head to the side, resting his cheek against her heart. “I will bear the scars with pride.”
She sighed. She’d never understand them. Changing the subject, she asked, “Not that it is truly important at the moment, but where are we and what happened to Vespero and the others?”
He lifted his head then, eyes twinkling. “Always Vespero, isn’t it? Concerned about your image, my Queen?”
“He says I must be,” she defended.
Navarre sobered. “Do not let Vespero distress you. He thinks in terms of all the past Queens. You are, in yourself, unique. We have entered a new era, sh’niedra, and you are integral to recreating us as race.”
“It will be your children, our children,” he corrected and still she heard his possessive note, “and how they choose to take the Dragoon forward that will truly reflect your morals and what makes you who you are, not Vespero’s petty comments on how you dress and speak. I hope they will make wiser decisions than we did.”
Ah, there was that layer of responsibility returning. She didn’t want it to. “Don’t go there yet.” She shifted and drew his head up for a soft kiss. “I like this unencumbered part of you. Let’s not count our eggs before they’re hatched.” How fitting a phrase right now.
She glanced around the room. She really had no preconceived notion of what his personal space would look like.
The walls were a soft blue, like an early morning sky. That alone came as a surprise. She expected the neutral grays and beiges found in the rest of the ship.
The bed was not as massive as she guessed, more of a range between a double and queen, with no bed skirting and unadorned posts rising six feet at each corner.
A window faced the outside with a window seat. Wrapping a blanket around herself, she padded to the window and looked out.
“I am sorry you cannot have a view to the outside. It is for your own—”
“Safety,” she absently finished for him but there was no bitterness to her tone. What they all did, they did with her welfare in mind. Even if she did disagree with some of it.
She sat on the seat, feet curled beneath her. The sky was the shade of a multicolored Easter egg, streaks of pinks, purples and a hint of white. She laid her hand on her stomach.
“You would not feel them so soon.” Navarre was propped up on one elbow, naked to the waist. Just the sight of him sent her libido surging again. Whoa, girl.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I think you’re the only man who’s ever asked me that.” She dodged the question. He was polite enough not to press. A familiar portrait on the wall caught her eye. As the sole adornment on the wall, it was unavoidable. It was the young Queen with the haunted eyes, the one Adrianne had guessed couldn’t fly.
“Who is the Queen?” She turned to Navarre.
There was a pause. He lowered his gaze. “Mirium, my sister.”
She walked to the portrait so she could examine it more closely. Yes, she could see the family resemblance in her jawline, a delicate version of Navarre’s and Altarre’s. She leaned closer. She could actually see brushstrokes. Another surprise. One of them was actually an artist? “Who painted this?”
“Adonthe.”
“It’s amazing. Does he still paint? Does he have other pictures?”
“I do not know.” He sounded surprised that he did not.
“She looks so sad.”
Navarre sighed. “She was not meant to survive. They pried her out of her egg. They forced her to live. She wanted only death.”
“Because she could not fly.” She heard Navarre’s sharp intake of breath. “I guessed.” The longing to be airborne would have eventually killed her as well.
“It is painful to live with no purpose,” he said quietly.
She guessed that as well. To face them all every day and be constantly reminded that she was a failure, a freak of birth. It’d almost be easier to die. “How long did she live?” What she meant to ask was how did she die, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask.
“Her life was cut short by the Hunter. She lived but twenty-five years. It was with cruel relief.”
Did she imagine hearing the guilt in his voice? Relief that Mirium was finally free and guilt for feeling that relief? “We will name one of our daughters Mirium,” she decided.
Another intake of breath. “We all choose our own names.”
“One will choose Mirium,” she insisted.
She returned to the bed. Navarre folded her to him. “I do not know whether to chastise you or revel in your optimism.”
She chuckled. “Something must have been created in the midst of that passion.”
“Are you scared?”
“Yes. No.” She looked away. “I would not give up what we just had for fear of becoming pregnant.”
His eyes gleamed. “I swore I would not touch you until you were whole. Do you feel whole, my Queen?”
She laid her cheek against his chest. “You were what I was missing. Shapeshifting be damned.”
He stroked her hair. “I can see the dragon within your eyes. Do you fear her?”
“No.” And she truly didn’t. “Sometimes…” she hesitated.
“What?” He tucked her head beneath his chin.
“Sometimes I can almost see them, the Queens, Mirium.” The Queen with the haunted eyes had stared back at her the night she had fallen from the building. She felt Navarre stiffen, but she continued. “Out of the corners of my eyes. Even when I am alone, I’m not truly alone. They are here, watching over you all.”
His arms held her tighter.
She raised her head so she could look at him. “I’m not making it up.”
“I believe you.” The fire in his eyes simmered. “I would like to think she is happy, my sister.”
She closed her eyes, trying to put into words what she felt when the ghostly shadows shared the same room with her. “I think they are at peace,” she said finally.
“Do they frighten you?”
“No, they are simply part of my new life.” She lowered her head to his chest again.
“Are you happy?”
“I am complete,” she said softly. “Can we end the twenty questions and have sex again?”
“As you wish.” Chuckling, he reached for the already wet spot between her thighs.
“Don’t tease.” She spun in his embrace to face him, locking her legs around his waist.
“The Dragoon has no word for ‘tease’,” he assured her and pressed himself to her.
Chapter Seventeen
Adrianne was somewhat disappointed. She thought she’d go through morning sickness or suddenly develop a huge appetite. Instead, the load of responsibility surrounding her seemed to evaporate, and from around the members of the Dragoon as well. They smiled more easily now and she basked in that warmth. Still, she couldn’t help worrying about her lack of pregnancy signs. She said as much the next time she and Nikki met for lunch at The Beast.
Nikki laughed. “You have to be one of the luckiest moms-to-be of any species. Only you would worry about something like that. What more do you want?”
Adrianne smiled back, a bit self-conscious. “You’re right, of course.” She picked at her salad. She had noticed an increased interest in meat, in particular meat cooked rare, although she’d never let Nikki know that. It’d just gross her out.
“Are you done torturing that poor piece of lettuce? I did cook chicken.”
Startled, Adrianne dropped the fork. “Yeah.”
“Well, I think you’re pregnant. You seem entirely too preoccupied with yourself. It’s not like you to daydream.”
Or night dream. Sometimes those left her slick with sweat and moaning. Luckily, Navarre did not press her for details, only wrapped her tightly in his arms, tucked her head beneath his chin and held her until she drifted off again. She had slept in Navarre’s bed these past three weeks since what she termed as her “flight”. She couldn’t quite call it mating. That sounded too base.
She met Navarre’s gaze across the room. He was perched on the empty stage beside Quince, giving her a discreet amount of space but not so far away that he’d be unable to protect her.
Adrianne turned back to Nikki. “You’ll be the first to know if there are a couple of little aliens writhing around in there.”
“Damn right I will be and I expect to be a godmother.”
“For all of them?”
Nikki grinned. “One or two is fine. Sheesh, I can’t believe you’ll have a brood.”
“Probably just one or two.” But she had an extra helping of chicken just in case a third dragonet had snuck into her womb. “How are things with you and Quince?”
“He sleeps in my bed,” she said around a mouthful of food.
“What?” Adrianne’s fork clattered on the plate. Navarre stood. She waved him off. Leaning forward, she hissed, “In your bed? Like every night?”
Nikki’s eyes twinkled. “Mmm, yes.”
“He’s passed the one-month record, you know.”
“I know.” Nikki continued to chew, seemingly unconcerned.
Adrianne sat back, bemused. Just what was going on between the two of them? “Are you finally settling down?”
“I don’t know what I’d do without him.” She glanced away as if surprised by that revelation.
“I’m happy for you.”
Nikki shoveled a third piece of chicken onto Adrianne’s plate. “No, you’re not. You’re worried that he’ll break my heart and you’re wondering if you shouldn’t pull him back. Don’t you dare.”
“I wouldn’t…that is…” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I’m a big girl.”
Adrianne didn’t know what to say. So she just changed the conversation. “Adonthe’s sewing me a whole new wardrobe. When can you come out and put your stamp of approval on it?”
“He promised he’d sew me a costume even more risqué than that satin corset of mine you conveniently destroyed before I had a chance to wear it.”
Adrianne had caught a glimpse of just what Adonthe was stitching. “You’ll be surprised all right.” And pleased. The outfit was little more than lace, fishnet and satin. She wouldn’t be caught dead in it. On Nikki, it would look stunning.
“I’ll check with Quince.” Nikki paused, her gaze meeting Quince’s across the room. Adrianne felt herself go hot, then cold. Whatever burned between them was transparent to anyone. “We should be able to swing by next week,” Nikki finished.
“Great!” She helped Nikki clear the table, taking the dishes behind the bar.
“There’s something else.” Nikki casually dried a plate and set it in the cupboard. “I think Haynes’ men are poking around again.”
Adrianne froze. “You should come with me. It isn’t safe for you here.”
“Quince didn’t want me to tell you for that very reason.”
“How can I not worry about you? They’re the FBI. They can do whatever they want.”
“Quince will protect me.”
How could she make Nikki understand how important she was to her? “Nikki, if anything were to ever happen to you, I’d blame myself.”
“We decided we’re serving a purpose by being here.” Nikki seemed unperturbed. “As long as they’re watching The Beast, they’ll leave you alone.”
“What if they are here today? They’ll have seen me. They’ll question you.”
Nikki turned, grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. “Hey.” Adrianne quieted. “We’re not stupid. Quince sent them on a wild goose chase today. I just want you to let me know before you drop in. So we can make sure it’s safe for you.”
“I can’t lose you,” Adrianne murmured, tears coming to her eyes. She forced them back with a deep breath.
“You won’t, I promise. I trust Quince.” Nikki gave her a quick hug. “I want to be a godmother. Do you hear me?” She shook her lightly again.
Adrianne nodded.
“Good.”
* * * * *
Back in the ship, Adrianne waved off Navarre’s invitation to be checked out by Altarre and instead headed for a walk around the ship’s interior. The only space where she was allowed alone, she treasured her walks, trusting the ship would keep her location private unless absolutely necessary.
Forty minutes of walking later, she hoped she burned off that piece of cheesec
ake she couldn’t resist at lunch.
Pausing, she leaned against the ship and wiped the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve. And heard voices in her head. Darn them. Who in the Dragoon wasn’t shielding his conversation? They did that from time to time, chattering like old women gossiping over coffee. She almost shot back an angry retort to all of them. Something in the tone of the voices made her hesitate. And eavesdrop.
They were really whispers, nothing more than half formed wispy impressions of thoughts and images. Someone was complaining about being jostled. Another had enjoyed the movement and wanted to be rocked again. A third wanted nothing more than peace and quiet. And a fourth was on a quest for food.
What was this?
She reached ever so carefully inside herself and touched the shadowy minds.
Silence.
Pulling back, she waited.
Still silence.
She did a few jumping jacks, then a short sprint down the hall. Someone shouted “Whee” and another started loudly complaining about the movement again.
Her babies were talking.
She couldn’t help it. Hugging herself, she spun around until she was dizzy, then leaned against the ship’s wall for support. They did it! She and Navarre had truly created something magical.
There were four minds for sure. Girls or boys, she didn’t know. For the next half-hour, she simply listened and tried to tally all the individual voices she heard. When she finally thought she reached a number, she spent another half an hour counting them all over again.
With her back against the wall, she slid to the floor.
There were twenty-four.
She had to be mistaken.
* * * * *
Even Navarre noticed that there wasn’t something quite right with Adrianne at suppertime. She didn’t know how to put into words what she was feeling. Twenty-four babies. Twenty-four! She shuddered. The Dragoon had been so ecstatic when she became pregnant. How could she tell them that she changed her mind? Apprehension took the place of excitement.
Luckily, the men were focused on things other than her impending pregnancy. Chatter tonight was centered around a permanent dwelling. They’d flown discreet aerial scouting trips over the land they liked. Some of it was for sale. Some wasn’t. Apparently, that wasn’t a deterrent. Everyone had their price.
The Last Queen Page 20