Storm Clouds: Dragon's Fate, Book 3

by Lacy Danes

  “They have guilt when they bite. You—”

  “Enough!” In a quick move, he stood over her in the bed again. He leaned down so he was a mere breath away from her face. His heart pounded in his chest. He cupped her chin in his palm. Velvet skin caressed his fingertips. Damn, he wanted to lie atop her on the mattress—but he would not.

  “I am not going to make excuses or tell lies to make you or anyone feel better,” he said in a steely whisper. “I am what I am.” He rubbed his thumb along her cheek until he reached her lower lip. “Not you, me or all the lies in the world will change the monsters that society says we are. All of us are killers. You will soon see that, as you too are part of this world now. ”

  “I would never harm anyone.”

  For her sake, he hoped not, but things she said never to often arrived… He leaned back and stood straight. “As like last night you would never let me show you, and today you accepted my offer.”

  Her cheeks turned a warm pink. “It’s different.”

  He nodded. “So it is. As you also accepted the offer of another man.” His jaw clenched.

  Her bows pulled together and twitched, then her lips pursed. “I did not accept his offer.”

  “Yet.” Though she had not said never to Marcus.

  She said nothing.

  He should let her sleep with that thought in her mind. Her and Marcus. A chill raced up his spine as he turned to leave. Her book lay beside the bed. He picked it up and handed it to her. “You were reading in your sleep when I came in. You may want to continue with that education.”

  She stared at the book in her hand. “Ilmir. Tell me something noble and good about you.”

  He sat down in her chair. “I brought you to the Isle.”

  “Beyond that. I know that. What are you proud of about yourself?”

  He shook his head. What was he thinking, coming into her room and trying to be nice to her? A simpleton he was not, and nothing ever came from being nice…

  Well, except for pleasure, and that always ended in death and oblivion.

  But this was her, and she asked to know more of him.

  He stared at her.

  She patiently waited, her slim fingers playing with the frayed edges of the leather book cover. He met her gaze. Her eyebrows rose, and she tilted her head to the side.

  His chest tightened. He could tell her. He would. “I have never bitten someone I love.” He actually said that. He rubbed the jade stone on his ring. What would she say?

  “You are proud of that?”

  He nodded and stared at her. More, give her more. “Loving and killing the one you love is unacceptable. Maddening.”

  One side of her mouth tipped up. “I guess it is a good thing you have never been in love, then.” She flipped open the book in her lap but didn’t look down.

  He tore his gaze away toward the ceiling, and then directly back to her soul-filled brown eyes and sighed. “I have.”

  “I have never seen you with a woman whom you have not killed. When?” She leaned forward on the bed again.

  She wanted to know, and she needed to know. “You have hardly seen me with any women at all. It is not as if I bring them to the Isle.”

  She nodded. “Very well. Still, when were you in love?” Her tongue darted out and wet her lip. Every movement she made seduced him. She was not graceful. Her movements were practical, strong, purposeful.

  He stared at her hands. She continued to fiddle with the book pages. He closed his eyes and tensed his jaw. There was a destiny in this conversation, and no matter how much his brain said it was a bad move, he could not stop now. “With my years, this love is relatively new to me. But in your years, I have been only recently.”

  “You are, at this moment, in love?” She disbelieved his words, as he knew she would.

  She would trust this even less, and if it were not the truth, he would be enjoying the twistedness in this folly. Instead, his palms itched, and a small trickle of sweat slipped down between his shoulder blades. “Indeed.” He opened his eyes and stared at her huge doe eyes. “With you.”

  Astrid’s mouth dropped open, and she shook her head. She could not have heard him right. Or she was still asleep. “Oh, for certain you are.” That was not the truth.

  Ilmir frowned.

  Or was it?

  In a smooth, tiger-like stretch, he was on his feet. “I wish you a good night, Astrid.”

  It had to be a jest. She would have known if he loved her. “But wait. You cannot say that and then wish me good night. I—need to know more.” She pushed back the covers and threw her feet over the edge of the bed. “I will follow you to your room if you do not sit back down.”

  He stared out the window. “There is nothing more say.”

  “There has to be.” She stood and walked to him. When she placed her hands on his chest, his heartbeat pounded an intense tempo against her touch. “Please.”

  He stared at her lips. Her tongue slipped out and traced them. His finger touched the wet surface of her lip, pulled the plump flesh down, exposing her teeth and tongue, then released. Saliva filled her mouth, and she swallowed hard. She wanted his lips to follow this touch, but now was not the time. The faint scent of lilacs in spring surrounded her.

  His ice-blue eyes stared into hers. “You are learning to control air. I can become air. Shall we see if you can pull me back into the room?”

  Could she do that? “I do not know where to begin.”

  “Look in the book for words that are directions—up, down, left, right, north, south, etc. Also learn grasp, cut, push, come, leave, close, open.”

  She turned around and grabbed the book. “So many words.”

  “Indeed, but you seem to have a natural ability to learn it. It took me months to master the basics, and I have never been like Ferrous. He can use his powers and the language for anything.”

  She flipped open the book. The worn edges and yellowed pages spoke of years of use. If he tried to leave the room as air, what would she need to do? Close the door. Blow the door closed? But with that I may just push him out the door too, or he may slide under the door.

  She could swirl the air into one of the circle clouds she saw over the sea and then shut the door and run. Indeed. She would try that. She flipped the pages to C. Circl… Circle

  Circle: Kredse.

  She repeated the word three times in her mind. Then flipped the pages A. Air… Air: Luft.

  She repeated the word three times in her mind. Then flipped to W. Wind: Vind. Then B. Blow: Blæse and Breeze: Brise.

  She set the book down.

  “Are you prepared?” Ilmir stood two paces from her. His head slightly tipped to the side, his shoulder-length, snow-colored hair hung in waves about his angular face. The contrast of the soft curls and the high-peaked cheekbones was startlingly attractive. And then his eyes. The palest of blue gray—unless he was seducing someone.

  The vision of his bright blue eyes and glowing skin from the night before tickled her memory. She shivered. Stop thinking of that.

  She closed her eyes. Concentrate on the task. Air, come to me. “Luft Kommer til mig,” she stated into the room. Heat bloomed in her core and out through her palms. A burning glow covered her hands; the hair on her scalp tingled. As a clatter came from the direction of the window, she opened her eyes.

  The windowpane jiggled and then snapped open. A light breeze blew into the space and against her face.

  Ilmir nodded—“Very nice”—then rubbed his ear. His body shimmered and slowly turned translucent, then to purple mist as he disappeared. “Is there more to this, or am I going to leisurely float out into the hallway?” His voice was a whisper in the space.

  What did she say next? Air circle? Air swirl? Air contain this space? To be certain, she would say them all. “Luftkreds. Luftstrømhvirvel. Luftfyld og rummer
dette område.” Heat scorched her hand once more, and the light breeze that had fluttered in the room slapped against her face. The pages of the book, open before her, flipped and fluttered, then lifted into the air and circled before her. Light burst from her hands and formed a glittering ball between her fingertips. “Let og lukker luft denne dør og tilbagevenden til mig.” Sound burst from her mouth as she thought the words. “Light and air, close the door and return to me.”

  A line of pure white energy spun from the ball to the door, and the door swung closed with a loud thud. The light returned to the ball, and with it the wind threw her back with a force that knocked all the air from her lungs.

  Her hair whipped against her face, and the blankets that lay loose on the bed lifted into the air. Small items in the room lifted into the swirl before her. The door rattled on the hinges, and the windows clattered against the wall. Wind rushed at her, pinning her to the wall. She struggled not to let the glowing ball in her hands touch her clothing. She could not escape the wind.

  The chair and the nightstand rushed at her.

  She closed her eyes, and her entire body tensed. They would crush her. “Hault! Hault!” she screamed into the space.

  A thud came from before her, and the wind stopped. Solid heat wrapped her front. She opened her eyes.

  Ilmir stood before her, his arms on each side of her head, hands against the wall. His body caged her and pressed against her front. “You need practice.” He stared down at her.

  She glanced under his arm at the room beyond. The chair and stand lay in pieces on the floor. Book pages, sheets, clothing—all strewn about the room as if a storm had blown in and tossed everything about. “I caused that?”

  His lips curled as he brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “I was not the one speaking the language. I was simply caught up in your spell.” He placed his hand back on the wall.

  Her stomach fluttered. “Thank you for protecting me from my own spell. I guess I have a lot to learn. “

  “About many things.” He leaned in closer. His breath puffed against her lips. “I will be the first to kiss you.” His lips pressed firmly to hers.

  She gasped, then relaxed. Salt met her taste buds. He parted his lips just a bit more, and his tongue pushed through and into her mouth.

  How odd a sensation. What am I to do with that?

  Thick muscular strokes of his tongue coaxed her tongue out to twine with his. Sensations exploded through her, and her head grew light.

  Lips.

  Teeth.

  Tongue.

  All caressed and explored.

  Her nipples tightened, and an ached blossomed in her core. She wanted to move and rub against him.

  He pressed his chest to hers and gently broke the kiss. He hovered over her, their breaths mingling in heated puffs. She opened her eyes. His skin glowed white. He touched her face, and heat zapped down to her toes. He was beautiful. This was beautiful. His knee pressed between her thighs and slid up to rub against her knoll.

  He ignited a trail of tingles as he traced her eyebrows and her cheeks. His brows pulled tight, and his eyes darkened to the blue of the night sky as he rubbed his knee up and down against her moistening flesh.

  She squirmed, arching her hips and pressing hard against him. She wanted this. This was what she watched him do to that woman last night, but tonight it was her. Her, with whom he said he was in love. Love. Why?

  “What in all damnation happened in here?” Madoc’s voice came from the doorway.

  Ilmir stepped back and turned slowly toward him. “A lesson.”

  “Are you well, Astrid?”

  She was overwhelmed and tired. “I am.” Her body shook, and she wrapped her arms about her stomach. “Pardon the mess. I-I will straighten this all up.”

  “Not tonight.” Ilmir turned back to her.

  “We will have Jenson help in the morning.” Madoc took two steps into the space. “Ilmir.” His brows rose. “Uh, we should talk.”

  Ilmir took a step toward Madoc. “I will be right with you.”

  Madoc turned and walked out into the hall. Ilmir turned back to Astrid, leaned in, grasped her hand and whispered, “Your lips are so soft and sweet. I want to taste more of you. It probably was for the best that Madoc came in. I was just about to ask you to take off your knickers.” His finger drew a circle on the back of her hand, and he left.

  Take off her knickers. Her knees wobbled. The woman last night was naked against the wall. She could have ended up the same. Oh, how she wanted that.

  Ilmir strode into the hallway with severe discomfort in his pantaloons. Madoc waited in front of his bedchamber door. Ilmir walked past him and into his space. The door clicked.

  “What are you about with Astrid?”

  And so the scolding would begin. “I thought I could help her.”

  “In what way? By taking her innocence? She deserves better than your attentions when you know you will never have her.”

  “She does deserve better than I, but I will not back away from her. I brought her to the Isle. I care about her.”

  “We all care about her. Teaching her is one thing, but kissing…” Madoc ran his hand through his hair. “What were you expecting to do after that?”

  To taste all her charms. “I hear you, Madoc. I know the family all care for her. I will not harm her.” I love her. He could not say that to them. Speaking the truth to her this night…torture enough.

  “Be careful, Ilmir.” Worry flashed in Madoc’s eyes. “She is a part of this family.” He turned and left Ilmir’s room.

  “Be careful, Ilmir.” The words rang in his head like the chime of a broken clock. Indeed. He would not harm her. That did not mean he would go back to ignoring her. Instead, he would become her shadow whether anyone knew he was following her or not.

  Chapter Five

  “What do you think it is?” Astrid stared at the large red-and-black-striped package that sat on the dining table.

  “It arrived this morning for you. I have no idea.” Celeste poured tea into her cup. “It’s cold. I will ring for more hot tea.” She pushed from the table and tugged the bellpull.

  “Until you open the box, the contents will remain a mystery.” Grandmum’s voice held a tinge of laughter.

  “So true.” Who would send Astrid a gift? She fingered the green bow and licked her lips. A gift. She tugged the tail, and the sound of ribbon pulling loose quieted the room.

  Ilmir walked into the parlor. She stopped the ribbon between her fingers. His white hair, which yesterday had slipped over his shoulder, was pulled back into a clean, sleek queue. A gentleman.

  He grabbed the teapot and poured, but no steam came from his cup. He grumbled and turned to the pot that held the cream and lifted the lid. She had taken the last small spoonful. No cream. Cold tea.

  Her lips twitched as she held in a giggle.

  He stared right at her. “What is that?”

  Astrid shrugged. She would find out. Lifting the wooden box top, she stared inside.

  A paper-and-mud nest filled the box. Within the bramble sat a gray nestling. A small mewly caw echoed in the room. “A bird. A gray baby bird.”

  They all leaned in.

  “There is no note?” Ilmir stated.

  Maybe it was attached to the bird, perhaps with a wee string. She slipped her fingers under the chick and lifted it out of the box. The slight bird had just formed soft downy feathers, and the tiny thing’s eyes were newly open, green and huge.

  “A small gray raven like the one I saw when Jordan and I met,” observed Celeste as she ran a finger along the bird’s back. “Well, actually, he saw it first.”

  “A damn mystical bird.” Ilmir’s jaw tensed. “Get rid of it.”

  All of them turned toward him.

  He straightened his shoulders. “If you are saying that th
is bird has a mystical Zir curse attached to it, give it back to whoever sent it.”

  “I will do no such thing.” Astrid pushed to her feet and rounded the table. “I do, however, wish to know who sent it to me. Besides, it can’t be attached to the Zir curse. I’m not Zir, and Jordan and Madoc saw the bird first.” She looked to Fina for validation.

  “Quite so. I never saw the bird. I just have the mad voice of Carmen in my head.” Carmen was a voice that the Zir women, once bitten, started hearing telepathically. They knew Carmen was captive somewhere. Fina had actually glimpsed her in one of her distance-travel windows once. None of them had been able to identify her location.

  “Me too.” Celeste shifted in her chair “Though I have not heard from her in some time. Have you?”

  “No. It’s been over a fortnight.” Fina finished the last of her toast and wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin.

  Grandmum pushed back from the table and stood. “It is possible it came from Branigan’s, as your dresses arrived this morning as well.”

  Fina and Celeste both stood. “Ferrous may be able to find out.”

  “What do you think, Ilmir?” Astrid looked to him. He said he was in love with her. Surely he would be concerned enough to help. Everyone stared at her and then him.

  He glanced back and forth at the other women. “Why would I care? If it were me, I would simply ask the butler to send it back. Or I would feed it to cats out in the alley. Unless Hudson or Grandmum desired such a taste.” He turned away from her. “Get rid of it.”

  She frowned. “I will give it to Ferrous. He will know what to do with it.” She walked out into the hall with Fina and down to the library. Ferrous sat by the window, staring out into the garden. “Ferrous?”

  He turned toward her. “Good morning, Astrid. Did you sleep well?”

  “I—” The last thing she remembered was kissing Ilmir. “Quite.” It was true. She had. “This was delivered to me today with no card. Can you help find out where this bird came from?”

  Ferrous walked from the window and stared down into the box. “I should be able to tell mainly by the nest.” The hatchling inside the box was small, gray, and had huge green eyes. He carefully lifted the bird and stared into its soul. Nothing but warmth resided there. A special bird. That was certain.