Shadow of Flame

by Caitlyn McFarland

  “Okay,” she squeaked. Stop saying okay! She inhaled, which was a mistake, because his scent went straight to her brain and started murdering the few cells that still functioned.

  Flustered, Kai turned her attention to his room. Unlike hers, which was nice but impersonal, Rhys was written all over this place. Bookshelves ran the length of one wall. A writing desk was pushed up below the window, covered in an organized chaos of paper and information-recording precious stones. An old, worn beach ball—looking thing made of leather sat next to the desk. Weapons leaned in corners or lay on shelves, and the walls were hung with maps and a couple of tapestries depicting dragons in flight.

  Rhys glanced into the room, as if trying to guess what she was looking at. “It would be easier to help you if you came in.”

  She shuffled inside, hating that her cheeks were probably the same color as her dress. Though she told herself not to, her eyes went to his chest again. Faint scars crisscrossed his skin, showing up mostly as white slices across the pattern of his indicium. The largest mark extended over his chest, bouncing down the muscles of his abdomen to end at his hip.

  That scar...

  Rhys reclined, fully awake and staring from a mattress on the floor. A small, ancient-looking book was open in his hands, but he closed it and dropped it into the blankets bunched at his side.

  His deep red hair was disheveled, the blue of his eyes bright, if a little hazy with sleep. She could see him better than she had before; his face, masculine and strong, his gaze intense. The way he looked at her was in equal parts terrifying and compelling.

  “Kai?” Mild surprise in his voice, as if she’d had an appointment and showed up a few minutes early. He winced as he pushed himself upright, his gray blanket falling. Bandages covered his right shoulder, spots of red staining its white surface. His torso was bare, every muscle defined in the light of fires flickering along the walls. The scale tattoo swirled like flame over the right side of his body and down his arm. A long, fresh-looking scar rippled over the taut skin of his stomach, the largest and newest of a handful of marks that crisscrossed what skin Kai could see.

  With everything that had happened since, she’d forgotten, somehow, about the attack that had almost killed Rhys and brought them together in the first place.

  “My eyes are up here.”

  “Oh! Geez. Hell. I mean...”

  He was grinning. Do not melt, Monahan.

  “Sorry. Right. The dress.” She turned so her back was to Rhys.

  He brushed her train to one side with his foot and unbuttoned each of the tiny buttons, his hands warm against her back. Once the top was undone, his knuckles brushed her bare skin every few seconds. Kai bit her lip. Part of her wanted him to reach up, brush the dress from her shoulders, watch as it fell to the floor...

  “Finished.” Was his voice unsteady? “There’s a lavatory through there. If you want to change.” He indicated at the bundled pajamas in her hand, the movement jerky.

  Her loosened dress rustled around her as she turned toward him, holding up the bodice with one hand. She studied his scars again, her fingers hovering inches from his skin. “Do they bother you?”

  “No.” There was something in his voice, a kind of tension that pressed against her, warm and whispering.

  He was just as bothered as she was.

  Against her better judgment, she touched the ridge of scar tissue on his right shoulder, tracing down across his chest. Something pushed at the thinning wall around her mind, a shimmering of distant guilt, self-doubt...desire...

  “Don’t,” he said, his voice rough and low. “Ancients. Don’t make this more difficult.”

  “What’s difficult?” Kai was mesmerized by his body, the way his muscles moved, the way his heart beat beneath her palm.

  He caught her hand, and Kai looked into eyes as bright and hot as stars. “You know.”

  Oh, yes. She knew.

  Deciding to take mercy on both of them, Kai withdrew her hand and she went into the bathroom. It was large, the entire floor tiled in mosaic. A small waterfall pattered from the ceiling into a drain, and there was a sink carved right out of the stone wall.

  Kai slipped off the dress and put on the pajamas. Rhys’s necklace winked just above the neckline of her tank top.

  “I guess it’s time I give you back,” she muttered, lifting the chain over her head. She pulled the tiny precious stones from the corner of her eyes and put them in a pile on a shelf, then scrubbed her face, glancing into the mirror to make sure she didn’t have raccoon eyes. After the way she’d looked all evening, she wondered if Rhys would think this plain face was a disappointment.

  She tried to take all the braids and pins and coils out of her hair, but still couldn’t figure them out. She slung the dress over her arm, picked up the necklace and walked back into the bedroom.

  Rhys stood next to the bed, an ancient-looking book open in his hands. When his gaze fell on her, Kai didn’t see disappointment. Instead, he smiled. A knot between her shoulders eased. She draped her dress over the desk chair and approached him.

  “Here.” She thrust the necklace awkwardly toward him. “I’m really sorry, I’ve had this for months. I should have given it back to you, but I just got so used to wearing it.” She clamped her lips shut before more words could tumble over them.

  He set the book down—it looked like a journal, the oldest Kai had ever seen. His hand brushed hers when he lifted the chain. “I thought it was lost.”

  She twisted her fingers in the drawstring of her pants. “Just stolen. Sorry. Again.”

  Rhys turned the pendant over in his fingers, yellow citrine winking. To her surprise, he slipped the chain over her head, its familiar weight settling against her breastbone. “We didn’t have a chance to have armbands made. I want you to keep it.”

  Warmth filled her, then faded. “I don’t have anything for you.”

  He shrugged, one corner of his mouth curled upward. “You’ve got time to think of something.”

  “Thank you.” Kai took a breath, her confidence bolstered by his gift. She eyed the bed. Maybe she wasn’t ready to have sex with Rhys, but she didn’t want to leave. “Could you help me with my hair, too?”

  “I—of course.” Rhys set his book on a bedside table and they sat on the edge of his bed. He touched gentle fingers to her hair. “I’m not sure if I’m going to have any more luck than you did.”

  “At least you can see it.”

  Murmuring agreement, Rhys touched her hair again. A moment later, he dropped a pin over her shoulder and into her lap.

  Kai’s hair didn’t move. She laughed. “One down, fifty to go.”

  He pulled out the pins one by one. Braids and coils fell to rest against Kai’s back, and the vanilla and spice scent of her conditioner filled the air. She bit back a relieved sigh as the tightness in her scalp slowly came undone.

  “I’ve been thinking.” Rhys dropped another pin in her lap. “Things haven’t been—we haven’t had much time. Together. I know some human cultures have a tradition where the bride and groom go on a trip. It might be...good.”

  Kai gripped the bobby pins. “You want to go on a honeymoon?”

  “If you’d like.”

  Kai rubbed her fingertips together, focusing on her fading calluses—she’d need to climb soon or lose them—until she got the sick nervous/excited feeling in her stomach under control. She was tempted to widen the cracks in her wall. It would be really convenient right now to know exactly how he felt. Excited? Tense? Obligated? But if she took down that wall, he’d be able to see her, too. All of her. She wasn’t ready for that. “What about that whole attempt-on-your-life thing today?”

  “We’ll need to take guards, but my life has been at risk for a thousand years now. Cadell wasn’t Owain’s assassin. He was supposed to be one of my own people.
We might be safer away from Eryri.”

  Another pin fell over her shoulder. “That’s kind of sad.”

  He didn’t respond right away. “We can leave the day after tomorrow, if you want. Last one.” He dropped the pin over her shoulder, but his fingers lingered in her hair.

  “Yeah. I think we should.” Kai cleared her throat. “Um. Would you undo the braids?”

  He touched unsure fingers to a braid near the crown of her head.

  Kai guided his hand down. “You’ve got to start at the bottom.”

  “Oh.”

  He started on a braid behind her left ear. Taking pity on him, Kai undid the ones on the right side. When she reached for the final braid, their fingers collided. His hands drew back to rest on her shoulders.

  Several knots in her stomach now, Kai ran her fingers through the black strands, shaking them out. It felt so good that she groaned.

  Rhys inhaled. His hands tightened, slid down her arms and came to rest on her biceps.

  “Thank you,” Kai murmured. She held perfectly still. If she moved, he might let her go. She didn’t want him to let go.

  “Mm-hm.” Slowly, hesitantly, Rhys leaned forward and pressed a kiss to one of her bare shoulders.

  Kai’s breath caught. He pulled aside the black curtain of her hair and kissed the side of her neck. Kai let out a soft gasp and leaned her head to the side, granting him access. She reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair.

  Rhys pulled her into his lap and pressed another kiss to her neck, scraping her skin with his teeth. The heat of him radiated through the thin fabric of the tank top, the hard muscles of his chest and stomach a firm wall against her back. He felt solid and safe.

  Kai turned, and he lifted his lips to hers. The kiss was fervent, intense. It tore her apart and remade her in the same instant, clouded her head and set fire to her heart.

  Rhys’s fingers splayed across her stomach, his thumbs smoothing circles over the cotton tank top. She slid her hand to the back of his neck, and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss. Twisting toward him, she put her other hand against his cheek.

  Her body screamed for him. To touch and be touched. To give him more than she’d ever dreamed of giving anyone before.

  He turned her, pulling her down on top of him. Wanting to go further.

  Sex. Actual, for-real sex. Had she taken her pill? Had she shaved her legs? Holy hell, she didn’t know how to have sex. Her heart beat a terrified tattoo in her chest. Not ready. Not yet. What if she was bad at it? What if he got her naked and wasn’t attracted to her? What if it hurt? She pushed herself up. “Rhys!”

  “Hm?” His eyes were half-closed and luminescent. His hands moved up and down her back.

  “So, remember back in the cave, when I asked you if I could’ve avoided becoming heartsworn by not being a virgin?”

  His eyes cleared. “I do.” And then he growled, “Mark Belinsky.”

  Kai let out a surprised laugh. “Yeah. But...I mean, I still am. A virgin. And maybe...” She swallowed, an embarrassed flush heating her cheeks. “Um, not exactly ready to have my maidenhead vanquished?”

  He closed his eyes and his head fell back. “Cariad, ti 'n ceisio i fi.”

  She’d been afraid that he would be angry. Which was silly, when she thought about how patient he’d been most of the time. She’d just heard men got pissy when they got this far and didn’t get what they came for.

  But then, Rhys wasn’t most men.

  Kai’s body was angry enough at her for both of them, anyway. “What does that mean?”

  Smiling wistfully, he pressed one final kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You test me.” He propped himself up on one elbow, cradling her cheek with his other hand, and kissed her again.

  Kai didn’t feel like he was pushing for more, only...holding on. Like he didn’t want to let her go. So much for being the one to seduce him.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked against his lips.

  He pulled back and traced her cheekbone with his thumb, letting the moment stretch. “You might not let me do this again.”

  Ha. Ha. Oh, yes. There would be doing this again.

  She blurted, “Can I sleep in here tonight? I mean, you can say no. You can totally say no. I just don’t like...I don’t want to—”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “Stay. Please.”

  She had the insane, happy urge to bite his finger. Like a puppy. But that would be weird, so she didn’t. “Yes.”

  A little regretful, Kai rolled off of him. They lay on their sides, facing each other. Now that sleeping arrangements were settled, Kai had a question, but she was afraid to ask. She rolled it over in her mind.

  “What is it?” Rhys asked.

  “What is what?”

  “Something is on your mind. You’re acting like that drawstring is a lifeline. We should probably find you more carabiners.”

  Kai released the strings. “I was just wondering...are you one? A virgin? I mean, of course you aren’t, right? You’re two thousand years old.”

  Rhys opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I...no.”

  “Oh. I didn’t think so. Well, you don’t have any weird dragon diseases or anything, do you? Or human ones. You’re disease-free, generally speaking?”

  Rhys laughed, and the awkwardness dissipated. “Ancients, Kai. Yes. I am disease-free.”

  Kai shrugged and rolled onto her back. It was fun to make him laugh. “You can’t be too careful.”

  “True. I’ve noticed you’re very cautious.” Rhys’s face was poker-straight.

  Kai matched his serious tone. “You’re lucky that you didn’t end up with Juli. She’s always falling off cliffs and stabbing dragons with swords. You’d hate it.”

  “Hate? I don’t think that’s the word for it.”

  “Oh, really? What is the—”

  He leaned in and kissed her.

  The first rays of sunlight made their way through the windows, falling across them where they lay curled on Rhys’s bed. When Rhys pulled back, Kai raised an eyebrow, but her voice was soft. “I see how you are. You kiss me when you don’t want me asking questions.”

  He chuckled. “Ask me anything, cariad. For you, I’m an open book.”

  “Oh, really?” Kai said again. “In that case...”

  She peppered him with every question she could think of, from what Alexander the Great had been like (“Even I’m not that old”) to what dragons did for fun (some sport called cylchoedd, related to the leather beach ball by the desk) to whether or not there were dragons who still spent all their time as dragons, never becoming human (“Yes, among the rogues”).

  They’d moved closer as the conversation went on, until Kai’s head was pillowed on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. Modern woman she might be, but she liked his protective, possessive gestures. The sun rose, questions and answers becoming slow and sleepy until Kai couldn’t remember what she’d asked and didn’t care. Content to follow the musical ups and downs of his accent, she drifted to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Hollow Parts

  Kavar squinted at the door of his dimly lit cell, waiting.

  Ashem was coming.

  Kavar had had a constant stream of visitors for days. Then, suddenly, they’d stopped. For two days, no one came, except to slide in food. Now his brother, his busy, busy brother, was finally on his way.

  And that meant Kavar’s time was up. He might be able to hide his secrets from Rhys and the others. He could hide them from Ashem, too. But only for a while. He prayed to the Ancients and the Stars—and whatever other deity might be listening—that Owain’s spy had time to finish her work before Ashem cracked Kavar’s mind like a pistachio.

  Some deep part of Kavar thought that Ashem migh
t not be able to do it. They were brothers, after all. They had been close as boys. That meant something. It had to mean something.

  But it didn’t. Ashem had always done his job, and that was all Kavar had become.

  The door opened and Ashem came in. “You don’t look well.”

  Kavar snorted. Ashem wouldn’t, either, if he’d been sitting in a cell for weeks with no way to bathe regularly. “What does that say about you? Mother always said I was the handsome one.”

  For the briefest second, he thought his brother smiled.

  A woman’s voice came from behind Ashem, dry and unimpressed. “I think I prefer shorter hair. And hygiene.”

  Ashem stiffened, spinning as a blond woman entered the cell. The muscles on his jaw jumped.

  Kavar pushed himself to his feet. “I’ve been so engaged in staring at the walls that I suppose it’s slipped my mind to make use of all the amenities the pretender king has generously provided.” He grinned at the woman, showing his teeth. “You must be my brother’s heartsworn.”

  She raised fine, dark brows, utterly unimpressed. Of average height, pretty enough, curvy enough, but not exceptional. Except for the intelligence that snapped in her eyes. And her expression, beautiful in its severity. In fact, the longer he looked at her face, the more he liked it. “You should have brought her before, Ashem. She is my sister now.”

  Ashem attempted to block the young woman with his body. “Juliet, go back upstairs.”

  The girl made an impatient noise. “Do I look like a dragon in your vee, Commander?”

  Ashem moved, blocking her again. His voice dropped so it was nearly inaudible. “I don’t want you to see this.”

  Her answer was equally quiet. “I know what you’re about to do, Ashem. I know exactly how you feel about it. I’m not going to leave you alone.”

  When Ashem didn’t move, she shoved him aside. Or rather, she shoved him as she stepped around him. His brother was like a stone monolith; immovable and dull.