One True Love

by Linda Kage

  She couldn’t seem to spit out whatever it was she wanted to say, so I touched her elbow in support.

  After glancing my way, she cleared her throat and turned back to Mandalay. “Actually, no. We came looking for Nanny Wynter. But since we’re here, I’m sure he’d love to meet Elliott.”

  “Elliott?” I asked, glancing between the two and wondering why it would be so important to meet this mysterious fellow.

  His name started with a vowel; had he come from High Cliff as well?

  “Nanny Wynter?” Mandalay asked on a heavy frown. “I haven’t seen her in years. Why are you looking for her? Did the magical ward she put up fail?”

  Vienne met my gaze, hesitating before saying, “No. No, the ward’s still working as far as I know, but we had a magical question for her. We believe there may be a bearer of dark magic in the castle, and we were wondering if she could help us find him. Are you sure she didn’t come down here? Maybe she slipped in without notice and is staying in one of the empty rooms.”

  “No, I’m positive she’s not here. All the rooms are full at the moment, and besides, you’re the first who’s come down those stairs in a month.”

  Biting her lip, Vienne sent me another worried glance. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Thank you. But I don’t know where else to look for her. She had to leave her cottage quite abruptly. I thought for sure this is where she’d come.”

  “I would think so, too,” Mandalay answered just as a resounding roar echoed through the chamber, lighting the room with a blazing orange glow.

  As I cursed and ducked, covering my head with my arms, Mandalay and Vienne remained standing, unruffled by whatever had exploded in the room next to us.

  “What the hell?” I said, still flinching my head down even as I straightened back to my full height and wondering why the other two weren’t equally alarmed.

  Mandalay burst out laughing. “I think it’s time to introduce him to Elliott.”

  I flashed Vienne a startled glance. “Who the fuck is Elliott?”

  She tightened her lips into a grin as if she wanted to laugh. “I should probably tell you now that Grandfather created dragon glass.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, staring after Mandalay as he hobbled toward the doorway leading into the chamber that had just lit up with the echoing roar. Then I turned back to Vienne. “What’s dragon glass?”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” She snapped her fingers and sent me a rueful grin. “I’ve grown accustomed to calling it that down here under the mountain because for some strange reason Grandfather has always refused to call it clear rock.”

  “The word glass just rolls off the tongue better,” Mandalay grumbled over his shoulder as he passed through the doorway. “But no…no… That damn Terran insisted we called it clear rock. Clear Rock! How unoriginal is that?”

  “Terran is—” Vienne started, only for me to wave a hand.

  “Yeah, yeah. Terran Donnelly, the man your grandfather discovered this kingdom with. I got that part. And glass is another word for clear rock, I gather, but… Why the dragon part?”

  Before she could answer, the cavern filled with that roar again, along with a great glow of light. And heat. I swear, the temperature grew about twenty degrees hotter before cooling once more. I stared at the doorway to the room that Mandalay had just entered as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

  Then I shook my head, denying what my brain was trying to suggest, because…

  No fucking way.

  Turning slowly to Vienne, I recalled, “Mandalay and Donnelly were exiled from Lowden for killing off the last dragon in the Outer Realms, weren’t they?”

  My one true love nodded deliberately, her smile growing. “They were.”

  I shook my head. “But they didn’t kill the last dragon, did they?”

  “No,” she whispered. “They saved him. He was just a baby, and the Graykey family was intent to destroy him. To destroy all of them. They wanted the dragons’ powers.”

  I gulped, returning my attention to the doorway, realizing who—or rather what—Elliott was.

  “Show me,” I said.

  Chapter 36

  Vienne

  Urban’s blue eyes were wide with equal parts excitement and apprehension. I took his hand, and his fingers latched immediately around mine.

  “He’s really quite tame,” I assured. “But it’s best to stay behind the wall Grandfather built just to be safe. Elliott’s been having accidents lately. We never know where he’ll spray his fire. We think it’s because he’s getting old.”

  Urban nodded mutely, his eyes still huge with shock.

  We started to step through the doorway, only for a group of the same four men from before to meet us in the entrance, carrying another sheet of glass.

  “Watch out,” they called cheerfully.

  Urban and I ducked out of the way, and he twisted at the waist to watch the men gently lay the sheet down on top of the pile.

  “So, that’s how they get fire hot enough to melt the sand in order to make clear rock,” he murmured to himself. “From fucking dragon’s breath.”

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s also possible to make glass from normal fire heated hot enough, but the glass never comes out quite as clear as this. Still… Grandfather’s been working on that, because we don’t know how much time Elliott has left.” I glanced up at him sadly. “When he dies, so will the kingdom’s main source of commerce.”

  He nodded and returned his attention to the main antechamber under the mountain that we still hadn’t quite entered yet. So I took him inside.

  The ceiling was high, but it needed to be in order to house a chained dragon that spanned the height of at least three Urbans, one on top of the other. More than twenty other people milled about, working to produce clear rock in dogged determination.

  “My God,” Urban murmured, his gaze fixed on the beast that sat, thumping his scaly tail in appreciation as Grandfather scratched an itch on his neck. Then Elliott shook his head contentedly and snorted out a happy cough, smoke hissing from his nostrils, before nuzzling his face to Grandfather’s beard.

  Black with a sheen of green when the light hit him, I knew Elliott’s skin felt much like the pelt of an elephant, save for the parts where his scales and the spikes on his back covered him. Those resembled turtle shells.

  “But how… How… How is he so docile? I thought only—”

  “Only the people of Lowden could handle dragons?” I finished the question for him, a smile wavering across my lips. “Grandfather is a man of Lowden, remember? He was born there.”

  “Right.” Urban glanced at me, nodding, only to turn back so he could continue to study Elliott. “Incredible,” he murmured. “Now I understand your dragon sex dream.”

  “Urban!” I hissed, smacking his arm in embarrassed outrage. Then I had to glance around to make sure no one else had heard him.

  He merely grinned at me, his eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. But Elliott let out a coughing kind of laugh when Grandfather used his staff to tickle the underside of the dragon’s foot, which stole Urban’s attention from me once more.

  Frowning slightly, he asked, “Why has he been kept a secret? Or does everyone know about him except Allera and me?” When he looked at me, a troubled, betrayed expression flitted across his face.

  I touched his arm soothingly. “No one else knows about him. Like I said, not even Caulder or anyone from the castle. We wanted to keep him safe.”

  Urban tipped his head to the side, frowning out his confusion. “Safe?”

  “Yes. At first, Grandfather and Terran Donnelly didn’t want the Graykey family to find him and destroy him for his powers. But then, over time… Well, just look at him.” I motioned toward Elliott. “Do you not see a weapon? A source of fire to win any war you wanted? He could, you know, but that would put a target on his back, and he’s much too valuable for that. If any other kingdom knew about him, they’d invade, intent to kill him if they didn’t outright s
teal him for his glass-making abilities. Back when there were many dragons, people invented catapults with huge arrows and all manner of torture devices, just to hurt them. They’d do that for Elliott too. But he suits us better down here, making us a profit.”

  Urban drew out a long sigh, frowning. “That makes sense, I suppose, but—”

  “We couldn’t simply just trust whatever king was on the throne to always share our viewpoints,” I murmured. “So we kept him hidden.”

  “Alright then,” Mandalay called, limping back toward us with his staff. “Fire in the hole in three…two…”

  I grabbed Urban’s arm and yanked him close to the protective wall Grandfather had made just as Grandfather joined us and finished with, “One.”

  Elliott spread his wings and tucked in his neck before letting out another roar and breathing fire.

  Urban tried to get a peek past the wall, but I tugged him back just as a stream of fire shot over our heads.

  “Holy shit,” he yelped, pulling me against him in order to protect me.

  “Oh dear, that was a close one,” Mandalay whistled. “His aim is getting worse every day. Such a shame.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head and met my gaze sadly. “I’m not sure if he’ll last the month at this rate.”

  My shoulders slumped. I’d grown up visiting Elliott and Grandfather down here, under the mountain. I would miss the old dragon once he was gone. But aside from that, Donnelly’s entire future seemed unstable with the promise of his demise.

  “Have you had any more luck making clearer glass from the bonfires you build down here?”

  Grandfather shrugged noncommittally. “Some, but not quite enough to satisfy an old perfectionist like me. Say, what’s captured your attention there, sonny?”

  I glanced over to find Urban running his hand along the wall we’d just hidden behind as if intrigued.

  He shook his head. “I’ve just never seen a wall so smooth,” he murmured, gazing in wonder as his fingers traced the seams holding each piece in place. “How did you make this?”

  “Ah, that’s another one of my inventions.” Nodding out his pride, Mandalay stepped closer to pat the wall. “I call it brick and mortar. It’s easy enough to make, just sand and clay mixed with any old fire to dry it into place, but it takes forever to form, which is how I was able to get every brick as smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

  “Since it can withstand the heat of dragon’s breath, I’d say it could keep a building upright for centuries,” Urban concluded. “Homes, castles, businesses. You could probably sell more of this than clear rock, you know.”

  “Probably.” Mandalay nodded sagely. “But we don’t have enough clay around these parts to make much of it, certainly not enough to supply the entire Outer Realms.”

  “There’s more than enough clay in High Cliff,” Urban said, his eyes brightening with an idea. “And they’re allies with Donnelly now. Mix the two together—sand and clay—and both kingdoms become insanely rich.”

  Bushy white eyebrows lifted high on Grandfather’s face as the idea took merit in his brain. He turned to me. “Why didn’t you bring this boy down here sooner, child? He might’ve just helped us save Donnelly.”

  Urban turned to me in dazed amazement. “My father would speak to me again if I helped him make a profit as big as this would bring.”

  “Yes, yes,” Grandfather murmured, sounding distracted, as I’m sure his mind was already spinning with ideas. “Very big.” Then he focused on me and Urban before he shooed us away. “You two should go. I think better when people aren’t talking to me. I’ve got to start planning a brick assembly line.”

  I shook my head, grinning affectionately. I didn’t even know what an assembly line was, but I was sure I’d soon learn after Grandfather devised a blueprint for it.

  Taking Urban’s hand, I led him from the antechamber. He glanced back one last time to take in Elliott as we left.

  “Incredible,” he repeated.

  I could only sigh. “Well, we didn’t find Nanny Wynter, but I believe the trip was well worth it. Do you think your father will agree to supply us with clay to make more bricks?”

  “Hell, yes,” Urban said, following me up the steps and back outside into the sunlight that momentarily made us blink until our vision adjusted to the extreme change. Then he slid the entrance closed before I could. “If he can turn a coin from it, he’ll be all over the idea.”

  “Thank God. If only finding the bearer of dark magic were so easy. Maybe we can—”

  “Hey,” he said softly, grasping my fingers to stall me.

  I turned back immediately, furrowing my brow with worry. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he whispered, gazing into my eyes as he shook his head slowly. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong.”

  “Then what—”

  “This,” he said.

  Before I knew what he had planned, he cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips gently to mine, kissing me softly until I had to close my eyes, lean into him, and touch the side of his jaw in return.

  Our breaths slowed and mingled, noses touching. The heat from his body drew me closer until we pressed together from head to toe.

  It was the sweetest, most heartbreaking kiss of my life. When he pulled away, our lips clung until the last possible moment that we had to break contact.

  My eyelashes fluttered open in a daze. He smiled tenderly.

  “I just had to do that,” he said, his blue eyes full of devotion.

  “What…?” I licked my suddenly dry lips and cleared my throat before I could ask, “Why?”

  “I wanted to kiss you one time,” he said, gazing down at me and barely caressing my cheek with the tips of his fingers as if in awe that he was actually touching me. “While we were both alive and one of us wasn’t bringing the other back from the dead. I had to. Just once.”

  “But why now?” I asked, shaking my head.

  The look in his eyes told me the truth before he confessed, “Because now I see why my mark chose you.”

  My lips parted.

  “Urban,” I rasped.

  My soul melted into a puddle of delight.

  He might have loved me before, because the mark had nudged him into feeling the emotion, but in this moment, right here in the sand, he’d just fallen in love with me because he wanted to.

  Elation swelled in my chest. I didn’t think my next actions through. I just reacted, reaching for the front of his shirt until I had a fistful of cloth bunched within my fingers. Then I jerked him toward me until our mouths crashed back together.

  He met my kiss eagerly, opening and thrusting his tongue. I tangled mine with his and pressed my aching breasts to his chest, straining against him, my body craving more, craving everything.

  “God, Vienne,” he groaned as his mouth left mine only to kiss his way along my jaw and down my throat. “I didn’t mean to start this, I swear.”

  “I know, I know,” I assured him, out of breath as I ran my fingers up his neck and around the back of his head, delighting in the shape of him under my palms. My teeth nipped at his earlobe, making him groan. “But I want this. I want it so bad.”

  “God, you tempt me, my lady. I know you’re loyal, and respectable, and faithful, but when you say shit like that, it’s damn near impossible not to give you exactly what you say you want.”

  “Then give it to me,” I begged, moving my hand down between his legs and gripping the hardness I found under the cloth of his trousers, so he would know exactly what I wanted.

  “Fuck,” he groaned, and lowered me to the ground, right there. “I know there are reasons we’re not supposed to do this, but I can’t think of a single one right now. God, Vienne. Can you remember why?”

  “No,” I rasped, breathlessly, loving the feel of my hands in his hair and his body covering mine as we lay on the warm sand together. “I can only focus on how much I want you.”

  “Me too.” His mouth teased mine and his fingers cupped one of m
y breasts through the front of my dress before he tightened his grip just enough to make me wince.

  “Sorry,” he said instantly, sprinkling kisses across the top of my chest in apology. “I should’ve remembered how full and sore they must be from always feeding Anni—”

  The word died in his throat before he finished her name, and I think we both remembered at the same moment.

  “Soren would take her away from you forever if he knew what we were doing,” Urban murmured in my ear as he froze on top of me.

  I gulped painfully and nodded my head slowly. “And he’d behead you.”

  Pulling back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes showed agony when he whispered, “We have to stop, don’t we?”

  My chest ached. I touched his cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “No.” He kissed my forehead. Then he pressed his brow to mine and closed his eyes. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry.”

  A tear slid down my cheek. “But it feels as if I’m being forced to choose between you and my daughter. It’s not right. Why can’t I just love you both, openly and freely?”

  “Hush,” he murmured, smoothing my hair. “Everything will be okay.” He climbed off me and stood before holding down a hand to help me up as well. “Just knowing you actually want to be with me is enough.”

  “It may be enough for you,” I answered moodily as I brushed sand off my skirts. “But I want it all.”

  His laugh was full of joy. “Greedy woman,” he teased, sifting his fingers over my arm to help me dust off more sand I had missed. “Don’t you see we do have it all? I just learned I have your heart. What more is there? We love each other. No one can steal that from us.”

  I paused to look up at him. His eyes were warm and happy, and I couldn’t help but experience some of that emotion with him.

  “You’re right,” I said. With a grin, I swept some sand off his cheek, and a warmth glowed from inside me. “Knowing I have your heart can keep the hope alive, the hope that someday I can show you physically how much I treasure you.”