by Alisa Woods
“What about the rest of the keep?” she asked, trying to not sound too eager.
“What about it?” he frowned.
“There are wards up now, right?”
“Leksander has the whole place on lockdown. He’s even got the original multiple-ward-system set up. Three separate rings of wards around the keep as a whole, plus a separate staging area with interlocking ward systems for when the other dragons arrive, so we can let them in without any possible breaches in security.” He was trying to reassure her she was safe.
But that wasn’t what she was after. “I want my mom here.”
He looked shocked for a second. “I don’t think it’s—”
“Leonidas.” She begged him with her eyes and squirmed around in his lap to look him square in the face. “She’s my mother. All women throughout time have had their mothers present to help them when they have their babies.” While true, that wasn’t exactly what she was after, either.
He had an almost comically lost expression. “But she can’t—”
“Have you ever delivered a baby?” she insisted.
He scowled. “As a matter of fact, I have.”
That stopped her. She raised her eyebrows. “You have?”
His expression pinched in. “When Arabella had her dragonling, we almost lost her. All three of us—Lucian, Leksander, and me—had to work to heal her and the baby.” He swallowed. “She’d been injected with the same poison that killed my father when the demon-infected hordes invaded the keep, but she was human, not dragon, so it didn’t affect her the same way.” He left that dangling. And seemed tormented by the words.
Rosalyn swallowed. It made it all suddenly so real.
“But she was fine,” Leonidas rushed out at the stricken look on her face. “We saved them both. And that’s not going to happen to you. We’re safe here. No way anything is getting into the keep that we don’t want. Not Zephan. Not demon mercenaries. Nothing.” He was overly emphatic about that, but somehow it didn’t help.
Because the thing that might kill her was already inside the keep. Inside her.
The demon.
She put both hands on his cheeks and stared intently into his eyes. “Leonidas, listen to me. I’m not human. I’m a witch. The whole reason you couldn’t purge the demon from me entirely is because… I’m a witch. My mother, my father, even Aunt Gwen… all witches. And I’m going to need their help to get through this. You have to let them come to the keep. Please.”
His frown and his hesitation went on and on. He was struggling to find a way to say no, but the more she thought about it, the more she was sure she needed this.
“I don’t want to take any chances—”
“Neither do I.” She slid her fingers over his lips to stop him. “They helped us. Aunt Gwen broke the curse. My father warned us about Zephan. They’re my family, Leonidas…” She felt the tears coming, and they surprised her more than anything. When did she start thinking of Aunt Gwen and her father that way? Her mother, sure, but she didn’t have access to hundreds of years of witching knowledge.
Leonidas drew her into his arms, burying his head in her wild mane of hair, which was in a perpetual state of upset now with all their love-making. “This is what you want?” he whispered.
“This is what I need,” she said.
He nodded into her hair then pulled back. “I’ll talk to Lucian. We’ll find a way to bring them in.”
She grinned, and something inside her rejoiced. Maybe she wouldn’t have to give up everything to be with Leonidas and fulfill the treaty and do all the things this dragonling meant—maybe she could bring both her worlds together.
“Under one condition,” he said, his expression etched with seriousness.
Her heart clenched. “What?”
He ran a fingertip along her cheek. “You wait until the first two weeks have passed. That’s the second danger zone, my love, and I just can’t… please don’t ask me to risk anything before that.”
“Two weeks?” She could do that. It wasn’t long.
“Two weeks,” he said, then leaned in to kiss her softly. “I promise to keep you entertained.”
“Deal,” she whispered against his lips then kissed him more urgently.
He easily fell back when she urged him to lay down on the couch. The way he looked at her—so filled with love and lust and that residual trace of worry—made her want to ride him and wipe all of it away in a haze of sex.
But first… “My turn to see what magic I can work with my lips.”
His eyelids dropped half closed as she kissed her way down his chest.
There were much worse ways to spend two weeks of her life.
Leonidas slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Rosalyn.
He kept his footfalls light as he crept out of his bedroom and down the hall to the spiral stone staircase. The steps were as cold and the walls as drafty as he remembered. He padded down to the receiving room of his lair, and it was like being transported back in time to any of the first four hundred years of his life in France. Unlike the keep outside Seattle, none of the stone floors here squeaked or gave him away as he snuck around bare-ass naked. He’d vowed not to leave Rosalyn’s side during her two-week internment, but his brothers had insisted on meeting. Leonidas had waited until she was thoroughly sated and had drifted off.
Hopefully, he’d be back before she awoke.
They’d only been in the keep for four days, and while Leonidas kept Rosalyn occupied, Leksander has been busy modernizing the place. A hundred years ago, they’d had a whole legion of human servants in the House of Smoke. There were no modern appliances, much less cell phone coverage, but his brother had rigged up a repeater tower and used magic for the rest of the furnishings. Food had to be trucked in from Paris, all without revealing the secret dragon keep in the middle of the French countryside. Meanwhile, Lucian had traveled across the world to join them, bringing the most trusted dragons from the House to serve as guards and staff.
Leonidas had promised to text them when he was ready to talk.
He snagged the phone Leksander had left on a table in the receiving room and sent a quick text to his brothers. Then he conjured clothes and slipped the phone into his pocket while he waited. Leonidas still couldn’t believe he and Rosalyn had made it this far—she had survived the mating, but now she was in that delicate period of time, the first two weeks during which any number of things could go horribly wrong. He knew she was strong—if he had any doubt, three days of vigorous lovemaking had banished that idea from his head. But the magic happening inside her—the creation of a new immortal being from love and magic and mortal flesh—was beyond anything either of them had ever experienced. And it was a wild card even within the House of Smoke—as far as he knew, none of the royal lineage had ever mated with a witch. As much as he loathed bringing her family of purebred witches to the keep, Rosalyn was right that they might help. They’d broken the curse—although he credited most of that to the still-astonishing fact that she loved him. If nothing else, her father and aunt and mother would provide a distraction during the pregnancy, once Rosalyn tired of the endless lovemaking he was happy to provide.
It was the demon inside her that worried him most of all.
But first… he would have to clear all this with his brothers.
Only a minute had passed, maybe two, when the creak of the main door of his lair announced his brothers’ arrival. He hurried to meet them at the door and usher them toward the solarium—the room furthest from his bedroom where Rosalyn lay sleeping.
Leonidas put a finger to his lips to keep his brothers quiet, then beckoned them to follow him through the receiving room and down the long winding hall that led to the smaller rooms of his lair. Leksander was dressed in all black clothes as befit a modern Frenchmen, but haggard shadows lay under his eyes—updating the castle must keep him up at night. Or perhaps it was that his brother had yet to fulfill the treaty himself. Lucian behind him didn’t look much better, althou
gh Leonidas suspected his fatigue was of the jetlagged variety.
At the end of the hall, another spiral staircase wound up a tower. At the top, the domed solarium had a full 360° view of the mossy walls of the castle and the thick woods of the countryside. The name of the room derived from the solitary pleasures taken therein—drawing, reading, and in Leonidas’s case, often a healthy round of sex on the abundance of couches and tables. But the modern meaning of solarium fit as well—Rosalyn was fast asleep in his darkened bedroom, but up here, the sun blazed and filled the room with light.
Lucian used magic to close the door behind them.
Leksander looked impatient. “Surely the newest princess of the House of Smoke is not so sensitive that we can’t talk in front of her.”
Leonidas scowled. “Surely, you can understand my hesitation to risk upsetting her.”
“Are you afraid it might arouse the demon?” Lucian asked.
Leonidas gritted his teeth. Leksander had obviously filled in their brother on the details. Even if he hadn’t, Lucian could easily taste the demon deep inside Rosalyn just as Leonidas had every moment of the last three days. That ever-watchfulness was wearing on him, but he did his best to keep his irritation bottled up.
“She’s absolutely fine,” Leonidas said, evenly. “And, believe me, I would know. We’ve been, shall we say, intimately connected pretty continuously for the last three days. I’m taking care of the crucial business of keeping my mate well-satisfied.”
Lucian smirked, as well he should—he knew the pleasures of mated sex—but Leksander just scowled. Leonidas couldn’t even recall when Leksander last had a woman in his bed, and this business with the treaty was only tormenting him. Even if Rosalyn fulfilled the treaty by bringing her dragonling—their dragonling—to term, what would become of his love-crossed brother? Erelah-the-angeling would never see her way to mating with a dragon.
But first things first.
Lucian’s smirk faded as he looked wearily out the window. Leonidas knew this had to be hard on him. The last time he was in the French keep was when Cara, his first mate, was lost.
Leonidas tipped his head to his brother. “I appreciate the burden this is putting on you, Lucian. I know something about visiting old wounds and the ghosts they contain.”
His brother gave him a small smile. “From what I hear, you acquitted yourself better than I ever did.”
“Yes, well, it’s not as though the dangers have passed.” Leksander’s irritation was clear in his voice.
“And there’s more danger than you know,” Leonidas said, glad to steer the conversation away from Rosalyn and her deep-buried demon essence. “I know protocol demands the House of Smoke present the new mate of a prince and remain open to receiving gifts and visits from various quarters of the immortal world. But with respect, my brothers, fuck that.”
“Absolutely,” Leksander said, quickly nodding his head. “We can’t take the risk. Lucian has brought over a dozen dragons from our House. We have plenty in terms of warriors, and all can contribute to the running of the keep. Now that everyone has arrived, the only person who will be coming and going over the next six weeks will be me. No humans. Not even deliveries to the front door. I’ll handle anything that needs handling. I’m calling for a complete and total quarantine here, my brothers. We can’t risk the safety of this dragonling. All depends on it.”
Leonidas held in his grimace. He understood Leksander’s fervor and even shared it himself, but he had made a promise to Rosalyn. “What about your favorite angeling?” he asked, hoping that might give a small window of opening.
From behind Leksander’s back, Lucian shook his head rapidly.
Apparently, that was a sore spot… still.
“She has no business here,” Leksander said, stiffly. “It’s best that she stay away.”
Leonidas narrowed his eyes. “Did we have a lover’s quarrel?”
“No, we did not,” Leksander spat, confirming that something had gone down. It must have been during the three days while Leonidas was keeping Rosalyn warm in his bed because before that Leksander had been by Leonidas’s side nearly continuously.
“And if she wishes to make a visit?” Leonidas pressed. Surely, his brother would make an exception for Erelah.
“Then she’ll be locked out like the rest.”
Okay, then. Perhaps a different angle. “She will have her hands full hunting demons in Seattle without you.”
Leksander twitched but kept up his stoic façade. Lucian just rolled his eyes.
Leonidas pressed on. “And the demons will be rife. I realize this is the least of our concerns right now, but you should know that the vampire Tariq told the Summer Queen that he was still infecting humans in Seattle… even after we’d warned his coven and the other vampires to stop.”
“What?” Lucian looked disgusted. “Does a dragon’s threat no longer carry weight in this world? For fuck’s sake.”
Leonidas could understand his frustration, but there was a lot more to it. “They fear the fae… and not just the Winter Court.”
“What do you mean?” Leksander asked.
Leonidas held up his hand and counted off fingers. “First, the Summer Queen has a taste for dragon, something you should warn the House about, Lucian. She might come looking for volunteers… and I kind of promised her she could have some.”
“You are fucking kidding me,” Lucian growled.
Leonidas sighed. “Not even close.”
Leksander made a snort of disgust.
“Worry not, my brother,” Leonidas said to him. “I’m sure our fellow dragons would have the time of their lives... assuming she lets them live. Regardless, it was one of the conditions for winning Rosalyn’s release. I hope the dragons of the House of Smoke will honor it.”
Lucian and Leksander grudgingly nodded.
“And speaking of conditions, remember that bronze dragon the Summer Queen gave us? She expects us to use that as well.”
“For what?” Leksander asked, frowning.
Lucian was back to scowling. “I brought Arabella and Larik with me to France only because there was no way I was going to leave them unprotected. But make no mistake—I loathe having them here. And under no circumstance am I using that infernal gift on my child.”
Leonidas held up his hands. “Completely understood. Besides, she expects me to use it on mine.”
That didn’t lessen Lucian’s scowl.
Leksander frown grew darker. “Why?”
“An excellent question,” Leonidas said. “One I don’t have an answer for. However, she reassured me the magic within it was beneficial… or at least harmless.”
Lucian grunted. “The fae don’t lie, but that sounds like complete bullshit to me.”
“Agreed,” Leonidas said. “And there’s more—she warned me that Zephan would do just about anything to stop the treaty from renewing. I don’t know what tricks he has yet up his sleeve, but we need to be prepared for anything. She said something vague about the humans posing a threat to the fae, which I don’t understand at all, but for whatever reason, the Winter Court wants to be free to interfere with the human realm once again. Or something. Whatever his actual intent, Zephan is determined to break the treaty. And there are some in the Summer Court who wish for that as well. The Summer Queen is on our side, but she’s likely the only one in the immortal realm we can rely upon.”
Lucian shook his head, wearily. “I’m more concerned about what lies inside the keep.”
Leonidas leaned back, confused. “What do you mean?”
“He means this whole business with your mate being irreversibly infected by demon,” Leksander said, nowhere near as gently. “All because she’s a witch.”
A rush of anger flooded Leonidas’s face with heat. “She’s fine.”
“You know that’s far from true.” Leksander’s scowl was darker.
“What are you suggesting?” Leonidas demanded. “She’s my mate.” The protective surge caught him off guar
d, and his blood boiled in his ears. He was suddenly ready to take his brother’s head off.
Lucian held up his hands and stepped between them. “No one’s suggesting otherwise.” He sighed. “But you have to know it, Leonidas. The biggest danger to your dragonling lies within your mate.”
The sudden anger still choked him, but Leonidas spat out, “Well, it’s good that I’m bringing in expert help, then.”
Lucian frowned. “The fae queen?”
“No.” Leonidas struggled to get his rage under control. His brothers wanted the best for him and his mate and his dragonling—he knew that. “Witches. Once Rosalyn is past the first fortnight, I’m bringing in her family to help her through the pregnancy.”
“What?” Leksander was aghast. “You can’t trust a coven with this. Especially those witches.”
“I can and I will.” Leonidas glared at him.
“All right, fine,” Lucian said, still between them. “We can handle a few witches.” He faced Leonidas. “You need to be vigilant, my brother. If the demon flares—”
“I’ll be ready.” The words were like ash in his mouth. Because he’d done all he could to combat the demon inside her—anything more would destroy part of the woman he loved. And if it was a choice between her and the dragonling… his mind refused to go there.
Lucian nodded gravely then turned to Leksander. “Your angeling might be of help, my brother.”
“She needs no part in this.” Leksander’s voice hiked up.
“She’s a demon slayer,” Lucian said, softening his voice. “It’s literally what she lives for.”
The sagging of Leksander’s shoulders wrenched sympathy through the anger still seething in Leonidas’s chest. But then he straightened. “I’ll ask,” he said then turned and marched from the solarium, taking the stairs two at a time on the way down, from the sound of it.
“What’s with the two of them?” Leonidas asked, peering after him.
Lucian grimaced. “She’s been pressuring him to find a mate.”