"If it means anything, I did it to escape. Joakim was going to kill me."
"That is an excuse, but it doesn't sound like a good one." Enid crossed her arms behind her back and stood straighter.
"The clan benefited from it, did it not? The Red Beast was trying to force us into an alliance. I got rid of him. I would have used normal soul magic, but my beads were lost in the battle. On top of that, I did not take all of his soul, merely enough to please his whims. I used as little of the black magic as I could. You should have seen that in the vision."
Enid nodded. "Yes, I did. Your explanations are valid. We have taken this in consideration, but me and my advisers still cannot pardon your crime, which is of the highest degree. And although you do not deserve a death sentence, you must face consequences as a warning to the rest of our tribe."
Aryana bowed her head. A lump formed in her throat. Why was her sister being this uptight?
Enid breathed in deeply, then said, "You must get rid of your male-in-waiting. Kill him, or we will do so for you."
"What?" Amongst their tribe, getting rid of their male servants wasn't an uncommon punishment for extremely severe crimes. Still, it wasn't deemed as harsh a punishment as facing the death penalty because males weren't given equal standing in their tribe. "No, I do not accept. Anything else. I will do anything else. You can string me up, burn me, anything."
"The judgment is final," Enid said.
"It is not final!"
She heard Diovan's grunting and struggling behind her. Ten other witches had to hold him down. They tied ropes around him. Even without his powers, his strength made him difficult to handle. The sight was ghastly. "Stop this now!" Aryana screamed, and rushed to his side to help him.
Enid walked up to her, presenting a dagger. Its sharp tip glistened in the afternoon sun.
Enid gripped her shoulder. "Kill him, Aryana, and prove your fealty to this clan."
Aryana accepted the dagger, feeling nauseated. She'd never hated her sister more than this. Did Enid's disapproval for dragons run so deep?
"I will take the punishment for him," Aryana said, her mind racing.
Diovan stopped struggling. He looked up with horror. "No!"
She gritted her teeth and plunged the blade into her stomach.
Chapter 19
Over there!" Aryana said, leading her group of witches toward the horde of bush mice.
They had almost lost the animals' trail, but having a dragon in the skies made tracking prey much easier. They ran onward with their nets and spears, on the backs of the Geckari. Like dragons, the creatures were fast.
She grinned. "They're running into the nets."
"Diovan is trying to scare them into that direction," Kealin replied.
"This is the largest group of bush mice I've ever seen."
After jumping over a few logs, and throwing spears to redirect the mice, they reached the location of the traps. The two witches positioned there cut the ropes, and the nets fell over the critters. A few of them managed to escape, but Aryana didn't care about those. The harvest was grand.
How many did they capture? Twenty, thirty of them? She went dizzy with excitement. The sun blazed a bright yellow, as if just as happy as they were. Ever since Diovan started helping, they'd been catching enough critters for enough magic and meat to last them for months.
Granted, the meat supply didn't last that long because he ate a lot of it, but the magic was worth a lot more to them anyway. They needed the magic more than ever, too. They'd used up so much trying to fight Joakim.
They took a while to gather all the critters into cages. They'd pass them to the harvesters later, who would put the magic into soul beads. After which, half the critters would be skinned for food and pelts, while the other half went to Diovan for one of his meals.
"Another good catch," Leiana said. "Enid will be pleased."
Aryana's smile fell when she heard her sister's name. They hadn't spoken in months. Enid's name felt like ice water over her skin.
Leiana turned toward her. "You really should speak with each other. The clan doesn't wish to have the high seeker and the previous second seeker always quarreling."
"I'm not quarreling with her," Aryana said. "I just can't face her without feeling like I need to strangle something." She bit her lip and stared at the ground.
"We don't like the tension between the two of you."
"Well, get used to it."
Enid had stripped away all of Aryana's titles and power in the tribe as punishment. Diovan was allowed to live. Aryana's stunt had properly convinced her sister that she didn't need any "rehabilitation," and that she truly loved her mate. It took two months for the stomach wound to heal. Luckily, Aryana missed all her vital organs, and the witch doctors made quick work of patching her up. Enid had tried to apologize, but Aryana didn't want to look at her sister's face any more.
Diovan strode up to her, properly clothed. He licked his lips. "I'm hungry."
She nudged him playfully. "Be patient. They'll be done harvesting the magic by tonight."
"Oh, I'm not talking about the bush mice. They're not exactly the most delectable of meats. I'm talking about you."
She curled her fingers around his. "I see. Then I understand why you're sounding so eager."
She kissed his jaw. He tried to bring her into a long, wet kiss, but she pushed him away and wagged a finger at him. "We have work to do. You still have to wait till tonight."
"We could sneak away…"
She gave him another peck on the cheek. "As soon as we get back to the tribe."
He rolled his eyes and grumbled, like a child would when not getting what he wanted. He walked off into the bushes to turn into a dragon again, so they could tie the cages to him and bring the catch back home as soon as possible.
Kealin strolled up to Aryana. "One of the witches who was gathering supplies from some nearby town heard of a rumor."
"What is it?" Aryana asked.
"Do you know what they call your mate?"
She had her suspicions. "Enlighten me."
"The Dragon with the Magnificent Cock."
Aryana smirked. "Is that so?"
Kealin raised a brow. "How would they know?"
"Diovan used to be a ladies' man." Aryana rested her hands on her hips. "Until he got stuck with me."
Kealin nudged her with an elbow. "Is it true, then?"
"What is?"
"That his cock is magnificent."
It was. Aryana faked an offended expression. "He's mine. And that tidbit is just for me to know."
"The rest of us are curious. Don't be selfish." The water witches had warmed up to Diovan's charming ways, and some often swooned at him. Aryana didn't mind. She liked knowing that her male was desired, and that he belonged solely to her.
Aryana brushed past Kealin and lifted herself onto the Geckari's back. She wore a smug look. "I repeat, he's mine. And I'll be as selfish as I want, thank you." With his heightened hearing, Diovan apparently heard their conversation from the bushes. He lifted his dragon head and peered at her, wearing what she recognized as cockiness. At least, that was what she assumed Diovan was trying to display. Dragons didn't have the facial muscles to be expressive.
Aryana winked at him, then kicked the sides of the Geckari, prompting the beast to start moving.
Diovan lifted himself up into the air, carrying as many goods as he could. She crooked her head up to look at her gold dragon, and the enormous span of his wings, satisfied by how majestic he was.
The witches who were in charge of harvesting souls clasped their hands together in excitement when the bush mice arrived.
"So many, again!" one of them said, as they scampered out of their enormous tent.
"You have your work cut out for you," Aryana replied, handing the witch a crate of bush mice.
"Oh, that's fine. Enid will be pleased."
Aryana forced herself to not show her discomfort when talking about Enid, although she couldn't help bu
t stiffen.
The harvester didn't notice, thankfully. Otherwise, Aryana would have to sit through another round of complaints about her relationship with her sister.
"Thank the dragon for me, will you?" the witch said. "Sometimes I want to thank him myself. Pity he isn't allowed to show his face around more often. The tribe is really warming up to him."
"How does Enid feel about that?" Aryana asked, indignation lacing her tone. She mentally slapped herself for letting it slip.
"Why don't you ask your sister yourself?"
"No."
The witch sighed. "She doesn't like it. But after what you did during the trial, I think she's holding back from condemning the dragon too much. Plus, our tribe is thriving with supplies. The witches would dissent if she tried to do anything to him."
The males-in-waiting—none of them as glorious as her Diovan—who worked at the harvesting site took the cages from the hunters and brought them inside the large tent.
Aryana asked the witch, "Do you need anything else? We'll pick them up during the next hunt."
"Oh, nothing. We have more than we'd ever need. Enid mentioned moving again soon, however. She worries the animals around here won't have time to reproduce at the rate we're hunting them."
"Good. I'll be off now."
Aryana walked back to her tent, watching the bustling tribe. It was mostly business as usual, with men trailing after their wives. After mating with Diovan, she found the sight increasingly unsettling, even though she was raised in such an environment. She simply couldn't imagine her dragon as one of those men.
As she entered her room, two broad arms swept her up.
"Diovan—"
She tasted his mouth. The intoxicating scent of smoke, spice, and the wetness of his lips made her insides churn with desire.
"We haven't done it in forever. Are you trying to kill me, woman?" he said, as he rested her back onto the bedding. Her hair splayed out on the mattress.
"We had sex yesterday." Half of the witches living around them stared awkwardly at her in the morning. Some even longingly. They must have heard her moans. Thankfully, Enid had banished Aryana to living closer to the edges of their encampments ever since her titles were stripped, so she wasn't being judged by too many people.
Diovan tapped the tip of her nose. "My point exactly. Forever. We should be doing it thrice a day at minimum. Once in the morning, another in the afternoon, and then another time at night. Never mind, make that four. We should do it once before dinner and once more after. We skipped the morning and afternoon bit today." He sent a trail of kisses down her neck. His hair tickled her skin.
Her toes curled with pleasure. "You'll break me."
"No, I'm building your stamina. This is training… military training."
"Sure." She laughed, despite trying to force a stern expression. "When I'm in the midst of battle, I'll look up to the skies and thank the goddess for my dexterity, all credited to your 'training.'"
"That's the spirit." He flashed a toothy grin before resting his weight on her.
The romp was quick, but pleasurable, and, frankly, made her feel a little bit like a dirty whore, in a good way. When they were done, they lay next to each other, panting, with Diovan surprisingly more energetic than before. Aryana, however, was spent. She couldn't keep up with his dragon ways.
"Get off me, you're heavy," she said, her vision still clouded.
"Round two?" he asked, drawing her in.
"Later." Her back was sore and she needed to catch her breath. Meeting the pace of a dragon was hard. "Plus, I don't think the witches will appreciate an endless bout of moaning coming from our tent."
"We should move to the mountains. I don't think the dragons will mind. The other couples will probably moan with us."
She made a grossed-out face. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."
Diovan had tried to convince her to join the Grimfire clan time and time again. She refused each time. She found Diovan's company comforting, but his hyper-manly attitude sometimes proved difficult to adjust to. She couldn't imagine being surrounded by men like him.
When she didn't respond, he raised both his hands in resignation. "That's all right. I'm patient. Cyrion is clan leader now. He'll manage fine without me."
"Thank you." She hugged him and rested on his chest.
"For?"
"Giving up your position, putting up with the witches. I'll do my best to adjust to the idea. We'll move back to the Grimfire mountains when I'm ready."
"It's nothing." He stroked her forehead. "Having to manage a whole clan is a pain, anyway. That's why I always kept my group small. Besides, I'd much rather have you than too many fight-mongering men to manage."
"I love you," she said.
"That's different," he replied. He rested his chin on a fist and grinned at her. "You don't usually say nice things."
She cuddled into his chest. "Fine, I won't any longer."
He frowned. "No! I like it. You should say something of the kind every hour. Comment on my dashing good looks, massive strength, and unbelievable amounts of resourcefulness."
"You're pushing it."
"A dragon can try."
"You're handsome, strong, and resourceful," she muttered quickly.
"What?"
"I'm not saying it again. Not ever."
"Not ever? Aryana, please. I can't stand to not hear those words again. That's torture."
She chuckled. "Aren't you supposed to get dinner?"
"Not until you repeat those words."
She snuggled into the arms of her dragon, enjoying his warmth. "Then I guess you're not getting dinner." She basked in the comfort he provided and the afterglow of lovemaking as Diovan continued to complain and list his charming traits. She agreed with most of them, but she would never let him know. His ego would inflate to the size of Gaia if she did.
Epilogue
I haven't been feeling well," Aryana said to the witch doctor, Qrellin. "The first thing I do when I wake is throw up."
The witch doctor's tent was the best-smelling one of them all. It had herbs and concoctions everywhere, with a rainbow of colors slamming into its visitors each time someone walked in. Qrellin herself was a young but talented woman with striking dark skin and plump lips. She had green eyes, unlike most of the other witches. Her father was an outsider, apparently.
Qrellin rubbed an herb in her hand and cast soul magic over Aryana's belly. Her brows rose. She pulled her hand away and nodded. "You're three weeks pregnant."
Aryana's eyes widened. She placed her palm over her stomach. How would Diovan react when he heard of this? "I'm… What?"
"I sensed a boy in you."
"A boy?"
"A dragon," said the witch doctor.
Aryana pursed her lips while her chest fluttered. Her concern was her sister. Enid wasn't going to take the news well. Aryana was certain her sister would disapprove of having two dragons lurking in her tribe. Aryana supposed she shouldn't be too bothered by Enid's reaction. They still weren't on talking terms and hardly crossed paths, so Aryana wouldn't see how her sister would take the news.
How were dragons raised? Aryana didn't have the slightest clue. Did Diovan know about the process? He was out with the witches on another hunt. She couldn't wait for him to get back so she could share the news.
"I'll have a baby boy in nine months." She grinned, excited at the thought.
Qrellin was already back with her concoctions, mixing together liquids that Aryana didn't have the slightest clue about. "Eighteen, actually."
Aryana's jaw dropped. "Twice as long?"
Qrellin set her concoctions aside and turned around. "Dragons take much longer to gestate. I'm actually more surprised they don't take ten times as long. They're fifty times the size of a human, and they live for a thousand years on average. Amazing how a creature like that can be formed in less than two years."
A horrid thought struck Aryana. "I'm not going to give birth to a baby dragon, am I?"
"You are."
"Will he come forth… as a scaly beast?"
The witch doctor placed a thumb on her chin. "I don't know about that. Dragon births aren't documented much amongst the water witches, actually. Most medical books only mention the gestation period and what to do when a mother shows certain symptoms. They don't actually state what form the dragon comes out as."
Aryana imagined having to care for a dragon in her crib, and having claws tear at her womb. She winced.
"You'll have to ask Diovan about that," the witch doctor said. "I'm sure he has real-life accounts."
Aryana rubbed her stomach nervously. "Thank you for seeing me."
"My pleasure."
The witch doctor bowed her head and sent Aryana on her way.
"Not that much of a catch today," one of the huntresses said as she untied a cage from Diovan's harness.
His nostrils smoked. He could feel his internal temperature rise. The slow pace these witches worked at made him increasingly impatient. Aryana had stayed in again today because she felt sick. She'd been feeling unwell for the past week or so, vomiting frequently, so he often had to go on these hunts alone. The hunters needed him for the chase, as they'd grown increasingly dependent on his keen eyes and flight. He wanted to stay at his wife's side at first, but Aryana had coaxed him to leave. He desperately fought against her instruction, but he lost the argument, because she was a woman, and he was a man, and that was the natural order of things.
His instincts to protect her had heightened in the past month or so. But Aryana managed to pacify his paranoia in the end. She always did. It irked him. He was supposed to be the master of controlling the opposite sex, but she had him wrapped around her slender fingers.
He hadn't been able to use his flirtation skills as much recently. The water witches were less susceptible to his charms and smoldering, much to his dismay, although some of them were becoming more pliable. He was used to getting free items from women with just a minimal amount of flirting. He'd given up resorting to his old methods long ago, but maybe they'd be usable again once the witches eased up around him enough.
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