Dederic growls and rakes his nails against my flesh in warning, but I ignore him.
Passion clouds my judgment as I continue stroking and sliding myself slowly along the length of him. I feel powerful and wanton and find myself craving the feel of his warm skin pressed along every inch of mine.
“Are you teasing me?” he whispers in my ear.
I smile and give a subtle shake of my head before resuming my explorations.
“You’re driving me mad right now, love. If you keep moving like that, I’ll give you what you’re asking for right here on this table,” he murmurs.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
I smile at his bluff and shift back on his lap with a smooth roll of my hips, settling him directly between my legs, just barely grazing the sensitive flesh there.
Dederic doesn’t shift or move in the slightest, but I can feel his breathing pick up, and I take note of the way his hand is clenched tightly into a fist on the table in front of us.
“Last warning, little fire. Do that again and I promise to finish what you’ve started,” he growls.
I lean back and rest my upper body fully against his chest before squeezing my thighs together and trapping the head of him between my legs.
“Wicked thing,” he murmurs and a hand slides roughly up my back.
The sharp tug of one of my buttons being plucked off has me shooting to my feet in shock. My mouth hangs open and I reach one hand around to cover the gaping seam.
A few other surprised faces turn to watch as I shimmy out of Dederic’s hold. I glance back at him and find those green eyes focused and predatory as he watches me. He smiles darkly as I smooth my dress and back away from the table.
“Excuse me,” I mumble to the people seated nearby before turning a murderous gaze back towards Dederic.
“Is everything alright, Seda?” he asks sweetly.
“I should go. I told Cecily I’d help…with…something,” I stammer.
“Ah. A pity,” he drawls, smiling behind the lip of his coffee.
“Enjoy your breakfast,” I mumble, turning and walking unsteadily through the hall.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he calls, laughter ringing in his voice.
I rush through the hall and out into the courtyard and don’t look back.
That evening after a day spent working and then reading and dozing in my room, I am dressed in pants and a shirt and ready for training with Dederic. When the knock sounds at my door, I purse my lips and fling it open, blocking his entrance into my private space.
“Hello,” I drawl, lifting a brow.
Dederic’s eyes glitter with amusement and a dimpled smile lights his face.
“Hello,” he says.
He holds up a closed fist and pulls back his fingers to reveal a single, pearl button in the palm of his hand.
“I think you’re missing this.”
I snatch the button from his palm and jam it into my pocket in irritation. He laughs and moves back as I slide into the hallway and close the door shut behind me.
We start toward the courtyard, but he stops us at the top of the first stairwell and slides his hands around my waist, leaning in and kissing me breathless. For a moment, everything else fades away and the only thing I’m aware of is the smell of his skin and the happy flutter of contentment that echoes through my chest.
He pulls away and smiles as he continues to lead us out towards the courtyard.
“You’re in a rather pleasant mood,” I mutter, annoyance melting to amusement as I follow him down the stairs.
“I am,” he says and tugs on the end of my hair.
“Any particular reason?”
He doesn’t answer and instead presses another hot, open-mouthed kiss to my lips, cupping my cheek in his palm.
“My goodness,” I breathe, stumbling a bit as he releases me.
“I had something special in mind for tonight, if you’re up for it,” he says, leaning casually against the wall of the keep.
“Like what? No training again?” I ask and quirk a brow.
“I thought I could fly you around the territory. Give you a tour of sorts-”
“Yes!” I blurt, and Dederic’s eyes go wide with surprise and amusement.
“Sorry- just- yes. I would love to see more of this place,” I say eagerly.
He leans down and kisses me on the forehead.
“I’m sorry, little fire, that I didn’t think of it before,” he says, and I see the pang of regret flash over his face.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m happy. It will be nice to see what else is out there, though,” I say honestly.
He nods and backs away before shifting into Dragon form. The giant creature greets me affectionately now, nudging me with his snout and rumbling a contented sound when I stroke along the scales of his neck.
“Hello, handsome,” I say in a low voice. “Thank you for coming to my aide the other night.”
I keep my hand on him as I walk beside the length of his body, scraping my nails gently along those thick armor-like plates covering his belly. He flexes a wing wide and angles it down towards me. The flesh is warm and soft and slightly elastic. Those green eyes are locked on me and his mouth opens slightly as he snuffs in a few heavy breaths.
“It’s so soft,” I whisper and trace my fingers over the veins branching out from the thicker skin at the top of his wing. I meet his churning green stare and smile.
“I think we’re friends, you and I. So, you must do me a favor and try and convince your other half to let me ride up top one of these days.” I feather my fingers over his wing one last time and his tail sways gently back and forth – the rhythmic scraping of sharp bone scraping along behind him. I climb into his waiting claw and he rolls himself back and sends us careening up into the night sky.
We fly for ages over rolling hills and beautiful green forest. The fields are a kaleidoscope of color with all the flowers in bloom now, and everything looks lush and healthy and so full of life. Dederic moves at a steady, unhurried pace, and I try and take in what I can ̶ rivers, valleys, steep mountains and bouldered canyons. It’s vast and complex, and I understand why these people care so greatly for this place.
We near a winding river banked by an open clearing, and I suck in a startled breath as I’m swept into a fuzzy haze of something off. The air flexes and buzzes in my ears and I feel my heart kick into a panicked rhythm. Dederic continues flying calmly, and I start pounding on the scales of his claw, desperate to convey that something is wrong.
How does he not feel that something is wrong with this place?
My magic bubbles and roils through me, and I focus all my mental strength on extricating myself from whatever oily web we’ve been caught in. Dederic calmly stabilizes us with a flex of his wings and I feel him grumble gently behind me. I place my palms flat on the pads of his feet and send heat and flame coursing through him to tangle with the raw red fire of his Dragon.
I try desperately to tell him through the magic that something is wrong, but his rumbling vibrations only intensify, and he continues on, angling us back and away from the water.
And then everything collapses.
I watch us moving farther away, and hot, gripping fear squeezes my heart.
Logic, reason, reality ̶ they crumble and explode into meaningless pieces of dust.
I start banging hard at any piece of him I can reach and gulping in shallow lungfuls of air.
“Stop!” I cry as large tears roll down my cheeks. “Please, we have to go back! Please!”
I can’t think about anything else but turning around.
I’m gasping, crying, my hands are shaking as I wail and beg him to head towards the green river in the distance. Dederic must sense my distress at this point because he increases his speed dramatically.
Suddenly, I feel that same overwhelming pressure as before ̶ the air is pulsing and straining and my ears ring with that high-pitched buzzing.
And then we’re free.
I tu
g at the collar of my shirt, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal. Dederic is bolting through the sky now, the speed making me so dizzy that I have to shut my eyes and focus on breathing for a long, long time.
When his rhythm and speed change, I glance out and see that we’re approaching the castle. He circles twice and lands us directly in front of the barracks. He releases me from his claws, and I fall back onto the dirt, arms and legs spread wide like a starfish as I stare up at the sky.
Dederic comes skidding to a stop beside me, cradling my head and running his hands over my face and chest and arms.
“Seda. Look at me,” he commands, and I can hear the undercurrent of fear lacing his words.
“What happened?” Another soldier comes running towards us and Dederic points at him and instructs him to bring the healer.
“What was that?” I ask, my voice coming out hoarse and strained.
“What was what? What did you see?” He presses a hand to my chest and instructs me to stay still.
“No, I’m okay. I can sit up,” I insist, and he growls. “Before we turned around ̶ you didn’t feel that?” My eyes narrow, but he looks genuinely perplexed.
“I felt you flailing around like someone lit your hair on fire. You scared the shit out of me,” he says softly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Dederic captures my mouth in a kiss and I inhale the warm familiar scent of his skin.
“Do. Not. Apologize,” he murmurs into my mouth and rests his forehead against mine. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
I shake my head and try and wrap my thoughts around what I sensed out there. Already, it feels like I’m trying to hold a wisp of smoke in my fingers.
“It was the water,” I say, trying to recall the sight of the river. “I mean I think it was the water. We were moving towards it and the air got so heavy… It was like I couldn’t breathe. And then you turned around and I just - I panicked. I didn’t want to go back, I felt like I was going to die if we didn’t get to the water.”
Dederic is watching me so intently, the dark green churning gaze of his makes my nerve endings prickle with awareness. He stays silent, jaw clenched as he exhales through his nose.
“You really felt nothing?” I whisper.
He shakes his head slowly and kisses my cheek.
“I felt nothing. I just wanted to get you back to safety ̶ once I felt your distress. I just wanted to bring you home.”
My heart squeezes at the way he says that.
Home.
That word has never sounded sweeter and more wonderful.
Dederic slips an arm under my shoulder and helps me sit while we wait for the healer. He laces his fingers through mine and watches me carefully, studying my face.
My eyes flick up as I notice a large soldier walking towards us. Long black hair swinging loose, he crouches next to us and I look up into the yellow eyes of Odin.
“You’re the healer?” I ask in disbelief, but he shakes his head.
No.
“What is it? Where’s Mihel?” Dederic asks in irritation.
He helps me stand, and Odin follows us up, clenching and un-clenching his jaw. Unease ripples through my stomach as I watch the muscles in Odin’s throat flex as though trying to summon words that will not form.
“Out with it,” Dederic snaps, and I pinch his side to remind him who he’s speaking to.
“Dederic,” I chide. “I’m fine. Let’s go. I don’t need a healer.”
I take his hand and move to leave, but Odin steps in front of us and holds out a hand for us to stop.
My head snaps back in surprise, concern now sprouting wings in my chest. I look between Dederic and Odin who are locked in silent communication. I wait and wait until finally Odin clears his throat and plants a palm over his heart in salute. His baritone voice echoes out in the empty arena, and I’m surprised by the beautiful richness of it before the shock of his words sinks in.
“Sarvos is dead. The King is dead,” he says.
And then everything goes sideways.
The Rite
I don’t see Dederic again after Odin delivers news of Sarvos’ death. The castle is in complete turmoil as people reel from the suddenness of it all. Soldiers dart about, preparing for the funeral procession and feast and the impending transfer of power to a new king.
I find Eira and Alina having tea in the great hall that night and I join them to get a sense of what the coming day will bring.
“What happens now?” I ask quietly and the two women remain thoughtful for a few moments before answering.
“We don’t really know. Most of us haven’t experienced a rite in our lives before. This is an instance where we will rely heavily on our elders for guidance,” Alina says quietly, and Eira nods in confirmation.
“Ademar, Ismeina and a few others are the only ones who were around for Sarvos’ coronation. The rest of us were either born under, or sworn in by, Sarvos’ rule,” Eira says.
“From what we know of the last rite, contenders for the throne issue a challenge and fight for the privilege of ruling. When the winner is crowned, the rest of us can either leave or submit.” Alina’s face is drawn and serious.
“Anyone can fight? I thought you told me before that the king wouldn’t have any power without the support of his people. What if the victor is someone cruel?” I ask.
We are all speaking quietly, our heads bowed close together to be heard.
“That’s why the option is there to break from the pride. It will be a time for us all to renew our commitment to our family and the head of Ruarden,” Alina says.
“We have a deep sense of love and loyalty for our pride, but Dragons still desire leadership from someone worthy. Someone strong and cunning, and skilled enough to assert themselves as deserving of the kind of fealty that a king or queen requires.” Eira’s eyes search mine, and I know she can see the worry lingering there.
“When will the ceremony be?” I ask.
“The rite is tomorrow afternoon. The kitchen staff are working through the night to prepare the feast in honor of the new ruler and for Sarvos’ final respects,” Eira says.
“There is much to celebrate and much to mourn.” Alina sighs and I can see the pain of the evening written on her face.
“You should get some sleep,” I tell her gently. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
She shakes her head.
“That’s very kind of you, but no. It’s just been a lot to take in ̶ for everyone I think.”
I nod in understanding, and Alina smiles and pats my arm.
“I’m going to head up for the night. You two should get some rest as well. Tomorrow will be a long day.” She hugs us both and takes off into the hallway so that Eira and I are left alone in the great hall.
“How was training tonight?” she asks quietly and sips her tea.
“We didn’t go,” I say and proceed to tell her of the events from this evening - arriving at the green river and the feeling of panic and fear that seemed to coat the air.
Eira’s face is pale as she listens and takes in the details of what happened.
“How far out were you?” she asks sharply.
“Quite a ways, I think. We had just cleared this huge bluff and there was the river in the distance,” I say.
She nods and swallows loudly, her complexion remains pale and wan. I reach for her hand and watch as she tries to paste a half-hearted smile on her face, shrugging off her distress.
“I’m sorry. I think I’m just tired as well. Will you walk up with me?” she asks.
“Of course,” I murmur and wrap an arm around her as we make our way back up for the night. She hugs me tightly at my door, and I can feel her body shaking before she lets me go.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll dress together and I’ll do your hair for the rite, okay?” she says, and I nod and say goodnight.
I watch her jog away and I’m left wondering what Eira is hiding from me.
The day of the
rite, she comes to my room and helps me select a dress in a beautiful emerald fabric. It’s two pieces; a short-sleeved top that is fitted and cuts off right above my waist, and a flowing skirt that slits up to the thigh and sits just at my hip so that a daring slice of my stomach is exposed.
Eira stacks layers of gold bangles on my wrists and braids a few pieces of hair into a crown and settles a small gold diadem into the blonde curls.
She dresses herself in a shimmery black creation that laces up the front and crisscrosses down her exposed back.
We walk to the southern wall of the castle and she drags me up to the rampart where we can see over the back and out onto an open grassy area that juts wide and flat along the cliff’s edge. We are about two flights up and she slips us through the mass of soldiers already crowding together up here and peering down to the spectacle below.
Ismeina, the ancient kitchen matron, stands at the farthest edge of the clearing while men in official-looking uniforms and armor pile in around her.
I scan the crowd up on the rampart and meet Alina’s blue gaze. She offers a nod in greeting, and I take in the lovely gown of purple and her short hair piled neatly atop her head. Farther down are Cecily and Lily and some younger soldiers I have met on rotation in the gardens.
Ismeina raises her hands and everyone quiets.
“Greetings family. Let us send thanks to the Mother for so many strong and loyal children who have gathered with us today. Let us send our love as she takes Sarvos into her arms and he flies again through the heavens.”
A murmur of prayer goes up and many of the men shift and offer a salute to their departed king.
Ismeina is cloaked in white robes and beckons one of the soldiers in front of her to approach with a small gold urn. She raises it over her head and closes her eyes to chant a prayer in a musical voice. It’s incredibly still and silent in the clearing and her words carry well, even with the sound of the ocean crashing down below.
When she opens her eyes again, she continues to address the assembly.
Song of Smoke: A Dragon Shifter Romance (The King's Series Book 1) Page 17