by Alisa Woods
Her face pinched in. “What do you mean dangerous?”
Rosalyn hesitated, tearing off a piece of the croissant again and chewing it. She didn’t really want to tell her mom this part, but if it would keep her from trying to convince Rosalyn to go back… “The demon makes me act crazy, but the dragon is worse. It burns, Mom. Heats me up from the inside. It’s a magical fire I can’t put out, and this morning, it almost killed me.”
Rosalyn wasn’t the type to exaggerate, and the pale, frightened look on her mother’s face said she knew that as well.
Her mom leaned back in her chair, blinking a little too much. “So you need to take a break from Leonidas. For now.”
“What I need is to keep all of this under control.” Rosalyn polished off the croissant, and it helped—she felt the energy of it coursing through her. She took a sip of the cold tea. “And if I could get rid of this demon, that would help. It seems to provoke the dragon part, and trust me, that is not a good thing.”
Her mother leaned forward again. “Your father needs to get over himself and help you with this.”
Rosalyn frowned and held up her teacup. “What more do you have to eat?” she asked, quickly changing the subject. “Turns out I’m starving.”
Her mother scowled, but quickly got up and ran off to the entryway.
Rosalyn sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly. She was in a bad way, but she wasn’t ready to risk her mom in this too. And getting Leonidas to threaten her father into lifting her mother’s hex… well, there were too many ways that could go wrong. Just thinking about it was stirring up her invidias daemonus—her demon of envy—because she wished her magic were practiced enough that she could do it herself, even though the rational part of her knew that only her father could lift the spell because he had placed it. Rosalyn had already risked her life to lift another witch’s curse, and now she had the baby to think of—she couldn’t take that risk again.
No, there had to be another way, something that didn’t involve her father…
Her mother came scurrying back, holding a tray filled with crackers, an assortment of cheeses, and several more pastries. Rosalyn’s mouth watered, and her demon surged, greedy for all of it. She scooped up a hunk of cheese even before her mother set the tray down on her spindly-legged table. Rosalyn decided that keeping her body well-fed would be key to keeping the demon under control. She downed two pastries and handful of crackers before she even attempted to speak again.
Her mother was watching her carefully. “I know you’re still angry with your father—”
“I’m not angry,” Rosalyn said around a mouthful of crackers.
Her mother gave her a skeptical look.
Rosalyn swallowed down the crackers with a sip of tea. “Okay, he fucking pisses me off… but that’s not why. He doesn’t want to do it, Mom. He’s an asshole with a grudge, and he’s not going to give your magic back if he can help it. I simply don’t trust him to not sabotage things in some way.”
Her mother frowned but didn’t disagree.
“Aunt Gwen, on the other hand…” Rosalyn took a big bite out of a pastry with cheese, cherries, and some frosting making her mouth ache with delight. She gestured with the half-eaten delicacy. “She likes me. I know you didn’t want to just blunder around with spells and tamper with my magic, but there’s got to be something we can try.”
Her mother got up and paced. Rosalyn wolfed down the rest of the pastry, then had to catch her breath, she was eating so fast.
Her mom stopped her pacing by the window, peering out, thoughtful. “Guinevere has always been more reasonable than Silas.”
“And she’s already helped me a lot.” Rosalyn grabbed another slice of cheese. “Without her, I couldn’t have broken Leonidas’s curse.”
Her mom drummed her fingers on the window. “But she said she’d never heard of a witch being possessed by a demon.”
“She’d never tried to break a curse on a dragon before, either, but we managed that.” Rosalyn’s heart was lifting. Maybe her anger with her father had short-circuited her brain before she’s explored all her options with just ordinary witch magic. She was no ordinary witch, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t work.
Her mom was nodding. “We’re in the heart of France, where some of the oldest covens are still operating. Some of them go back thousands of years. They have to have a greater knowledge of the craft—or at least its history—than the Damon coven.”
Rosalyn smiled. “Do you think they’d help us?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Rosalyn chowed down the last of the cheese. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.” She rose up from the chair.
Her mom hustled around the table and chairs to stop her. “Let me handle this, Rose.”
“But I have to be involved.”
“Eventually, yes.” She took hold of Rosalyn’s shoulders and gently squeezed. “But right now, you’re exhausted, sweetie. You said it yourself—the demon is getting worse, it’s infecting the baby, and that’s just too dangerous to mess around with. What you need is rest and food and space from Leonidas or anything else that might stress you out and get that demon riled up. Or your dragon.” She gave a small smile. “I always knew you were a powerful witch, daughter of mine, but I never thought you would have so much magic rumbling around inside you.” She leaned forward and kissed Rosalyn on the forehead. “Go rest, eat, and be calm. I might not be able to practice magic, but I’ve got a killer collection of herbal teas just right for relaxation.” She gently patted Rosalyn’s belly bump. “That’s my grandbaby, and I’ll be damned if a demon can have him. Give me some time to make contacts and see what magic Guinevere, Alora, and I can cook up. And when you’re fully rested and strong again, we’ll see what we can try. Okay?”
As much as Rosalyn wanted to rush off and fix this demon problem, it was a relief to know she didn’t have to do any such thing—her mom would handle the negotiations as well or better than she could anyway. And she was deep-in-her-bones weary. The food had hit her bloodstream, and already her eyelids were tugging down.
“Okay.” Then a yawn overtook her.
Her mom slipped her arm around Rosalyn’s shoulders and guided her toward the back of the small guest apartment. It had just the main receiving room, the entryway, and two bedrooms no bigger than a walk-in closet. Her mother led her to a tiny bed draped in gauzy maroon netting. Rosalyn pushed it aside and slipped inside. Her mother poked her head in long enough to tuck Rosalyn under the fluffy down comforter, then the netting fell back in place, closing off the outside world. Her mother turned off the light on the way out, and with no windows in the room, her little closed-in space plunged into a red-tinged darkness, even though it was still the middle of the day.
Rosalyn’s head sunk into the pillow, and soon, she was drifting into a blissfully magic-free sleep.
Leonidas’s battle cry echoed off the stone walls of the chamber.
He banked sharply at the four-story ceiling, leathery wings scraping the timbers, then dropped like a stone toward the pool. Below him, Lucian tried to twist out of the way, but his wingtips caught the water, slowing him the fraction of a second Leonidas needed to drop through the air and sink his talons into Lucian’s hide. The two spun and plummeted into the inky depths of the cistern. Lucian’s dagger-like teeth pierced Leonidas’s side, squirting blood into the water as they grappled and sank further. As they neared the rocky bottom, Leonidas flung his brother against it, wrenching free of his hold. Leonidas shot through the water and closed his talons around his brother’s throat.
Pinned under forty feet of water to the pitch-black floor, Lucian gave up the fight.
Ra sooth. Lucian’s thoughts pressed into Leonidas’s mind, the dragontongue meaning both I concede and You are a worthy opponent.
Sie hafam. Leonidas gave the ritual reply—You bled well—and released his hold on his brother’s neck. The adrenaline of the fight surged through him, and the ancient words tangled with the memory of
a thousand other battles over hundreds of years, back when such things were the civilized bloodsport his House used to practice for war.
He wasn’t at war now, at least, not with any dragon he could slice with his talons.
Leonidas pumped his wings against the water and vaulted toward the surface. He broke free and gulped air, arcing high through the vast stone-lined training chamber before dropping to a sloppy landing on the slate deck at the far end. The carved-rock benches were drenched from pool water sloshed over the side. Leonidas shifted human but didn’t bother with clothes that would only get wet.
His brother landed beside him and shifted human as well. “Feel better?” Lucian asked as he stalked toward the side where the towels hung.
“I still want to kill something,” Leonidas grumbled. He was contemplating another bout, but his brother’s body was seeping blood at a furious pace from a constellation of wounds.
“I’m glad you decided not to kill me.” Lucian stopped to inspect the slashes across his side and legs. “But fuck, Leonidas, that’s going to take time to heal.” He put the towel back on the hook, apparently deciding not to soil it with blood.
“I’ll joust with Cinaed next.” Leonidas narrowed his eyes at the pool. He’d spent way too much time in it over the last week, taking his anger and frustration out on every dragon he could convince to engage in the ancient close-quarters combat.
“The hell you will.” Lucian stalked back over to him. “He’s still healing from the last bout. In case you forgot, he doesn’t have fae blood. For fuck’s sake, fight with Leksander, if you have to.”
“I really will kill him.” Leonidas still hadn’t forgiven his brother for bringing his angeling into Lucian’s lair and letting her scare the hell out of everyone with her angel blade. Especially Rosalyn. Leonidas reflexively reached out across the keep, searching with his fae senses for his mate and his unborn child, like he did a hundred times a day. Rosalyn was in her mother’s apartment, just as she had been almost every minute of the last week.
A whole fucking week. Frustration tightened his gut anew.
Leonidas wiped away the blood trickling down his side then held his hand to the wound, summoning his runes to heal it for another round. He’d be back in the pool soon enough.
“Just go to her,” Lucian complained.
Leonidas had to hold back from shifting and plunging his talons into his brother’s side again. “You think I don’t want to?”
“It’s been a week,” Lucian said, patiently. He conjured a wind to dry his body, then magicked clothes to cover his nakedness and his wounds. “She has to be over whatever made her flee in the first place.”
“I made her flee.” Leonidas was convinced of that. She’d told him as much. I need time alone. She’d already pulled back from him before the near-death surge of her demon and her dragon. She was freaked out, and he hadn’t reassured her, or do whatever it took to keep her by his side… so she ran back to her mother, who obviously was better able to offer support than he was.
Because he was fucking incompetent when it came to love. Obviously.
Lucian was giving him a long, measured look.
Leonidas glared right back, trying to forestall another round of his brother trying to convince him to make the first move with Rosalyn. Because if nothing else, she’d been explicit. Don’t call. Don’t visit. The only way he could fuck this up more would be by violating her direct wishes.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Leonidas said to him.
Lucian snorted. “I doubt that very much.”
“You want me to go see her and convince her everything will be fine,” Leonidas said, bitter at the surge of emotion those words welled up. His dragon wanted to kill something again. “That somehow this is all going to turn out all right, and I didn’t just seal her with a dragon magic and impregnate her with a child that ultimately will kill her.” Dragonfire was starting wisp out of his mouth with his anger and his fear. “It’s all a lie. You can sense it just as well as I. The demon is growing stronger, and it’s bound up with the baby, and those two things are just going to get worse until it fucking kills her. Or my dragon magic does. And the only way she can even manage to keep those things under control right now is by staying the hell away from me.”
And that was the bitter pill he was swallowing every hour of every day. Not only had he put her in this position in the first place, but he was so inept at being a mate, he couldn’t even be the person she turned to. The one who could calm and soothe her.
She was hurting, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
His despair threatened to reach up and pull him down into a dark abyss for the tenth time in this hell week. It was the reason he’d spent so much time in the pool—to keep from losing the battle to stay sane by battling real things, even if they were just his brother-dragons.
Lucian’s smile was pained. “I was going to suggest you invite her to the pool.”
Leonidas heard the words, but they rattled in his brain and made no sense. “To the pool?”
“To watch you beat the shit out of someone.” Lucian’s smile grew a little. “Preferably Leksander.”
Was his brother losing his mind as well? “In what way would that help?”
“Maybe you’ll win her back the old-fashioned way.” Lucian smirked. “Brute masculinity and dragon pheromones. Wasn’t it you who said that all women were the kind that dragon pheromones worked on?”
Leonidas scowled. “You’re a fucking idiot. How did you ever score a mate?”
Lucian shrugged. “Dumb luck. Plus Arabella’s a saint.”
Leonidas nodded. At least he was talking sense now. “All my normal charms are for shit with Rosalyn. Believe me, I figured that out early on.”
“And yet she loves you. Still.” Lucian tipped his head to Leonidas, daring him to disagree.
Which he couldn’t. It was obvious Rosalyn loved him—she and the baby wouldn’t still be alive if she didn’t. The magic of the curse behind the treaty would make sure of that.
“Yes, she loves me,” he said, bitterly. “Something I clearly haven’t earned.”
“That goes without saying.” Lucian narrowed his eyes. “So fix what’s wrong here, Leonidas. Find the solution.”
“I can’t!” He flung his arms out in frustration. The damp coolness of the training cavern finally shuddered over his skin. He conjured clothes to cover his bare-ass nakedness, but it didn’t help with the feeling of being utterly exposed. Helpless. Unable to do anything to help his mate. He’d never felt such a horrible emptiness.
“Force the father to help,” Lucian said.
“She won’t allow it.”
“Do it anyway.”
Leonidas’s talons came out, shifting involuntarily with his anger and frustration. “You don’t understand. Rosalyn will have none of it. And I’ll only anger her for endangering her mother and going behind her back—”
“So find another way.” Lucian’s frustration seemed to rise too.
Leonidas forced his talons to retract then ran both hands through his hair, tempted to tear it out. “Like what?”
“You tried your healing magic on her, right?”
Leonidas nodded. “And that was when there was no baby to complicate things.”
“Your fae magic is strong.” Lucian lifted his eyebrows. “But Leksander’s is stronger. And if all three of us got together…”
Leonidas frowned. He’d already given up on that possibility. “Maybe.”
Lucian tipped his head again. “Together we saved Arabella and Larik from that infernal poison.”
“That was different.” At his brother’s exasperated look, he added, “But it’s worth a try.” And it was. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before, but then he had been so wrapped up in everything, despairing that there wasn’t anything that could be done.
His heart lifted a tiny amount. He reflexively reached out for Rosalyn again. She was calm, so calm she was probably sleep
ing. The baby was a little more restless. Leonidas ached to have them both by his side again.
He sucked in a sharp breath and brought his attention back to the training cavern. “We would all three have to be in her physical presence, laying hands on her and as close to the baby as possible. But she won’t speak to me. And for good reason. I’m useless to her.”
“You’re the man she loves,” Lucian said softly. “You and the baby are everything to her.”
It felt like a spear through his chest. He physically flinched.
“But we should know what we’re doing first,” Lucian added. “I’ve only ever slain demons in humans, not extracted them from haunting another type of creature. That’s a different kind of magic.”
Angel magic. “I’m not letting Erelah near her,” Leonidas growled.
“Maybe she can guide us—”
“I’d sooner have the Fae Queen whispering magic in Rosalyn’s ear.” Leonidas snarled, but then he remembered… “Although we do have an unused gift. Did you get that dragon token sent over?”
Lucian frowned. “It’s here, but I don’t know about using it.”
“It’s not my first choice, either.” Leonidas scowled. “But if we somehow get to the end of this and the baby is born but isn’t… thriving…” He had to stop because his throat was closing. Losing his child, one he’d never seen or touched except magically and yet already loved more than he thought possible…
Lucian’s hand landed on his shoulder, rough and reassuring. “We’re going to make it through this, my brother.”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Fortunately, he was spared it by Cinaed bursting through the doors of the training room. Unfortunately, he was followed closely by Leksander.
Lucian’s grip on Leonidas’s shoulder tightened.
“My lord,” Cinaed rushed out, “just hear the prince out—”