by Imogen Sera
Ingrid had believed herself in love, once, but she’d been very young and desperate for love after all of the loss she had faced. And she had felt it then, occasionally, when it had suited him. She tried hard to be what he had needed: positive, loving, interesting, happy. He had never seemed to care what she had needed, and after a year and a half of apologizing for being herself and having a partner who neglected her when she needed him most, she saw the light and ended things. He stayed at Dragongrove for another year after that, trying to win her over again, but luckily she had Lily to keep her head on straight and after some time plucked up the courage to force him to leave.
She sighed and leaned back into Helias. He was everything she had ever been afraid to want, and now that she had opened herself up to him she found that she needed him. He never needed her to pretend to be happy or chatty or bubbly; she was rarely any of those things. He just needed her. It was a relief to be cared for so unconditionally.
They finished in the shower and laid in bed together, facing each other, basking in content silence. Ingrid wanted the moment to last forever: no shrine, no brothers, no illnesses or gossip or mysterious pasts. She lifted one of his palms to her mouth and kissed it gently, and then the other. He grinned at her briefly and then looked serious, suddenly.
“I’ve been talking to Tarquin about something,” he started abruptly. She nodded softly, and he drew her hands up to kiss her palms, too. He looked nervous and seemed to be stalling.
“What is it?” she asked, worried at his reluctance.
“I know you don’t like the idea of mates,” he began strangely, “of not choosing who you love.”
She nodded again, acknowledging her reaction to their first and only conversation on the topic.
“Tarquin is the only one of my brothers who had found his, so I needed to ask him about it.” He continued.
Ingrid stared at him, wide eyed, scarcely daring to breathe.
“Ingrid,” he began again, his voice shaking and his hands holding her cheeks, “I know for sure now. You’re it. You’re her. You’re my mate.”
Her reaction was primal. She quivered with pleasure, then wrapped her arms around him, and her legs around him, and kissed him passionately until her lips hurt and her thighs shook and then he entered her. Somehow, with this new knowledge of what they were to each other, he filled her more completely, he knew exactly what she wanted, and before long they were both calling the other’s name, entangled and exhausted and spent.
He held her then and laughed, as she looked at him questioningly.
“I thought you’d be angry,” he said. “I was so worried.”
“A month ago I probably would have been,” she said, resting her head on his chest and her hand on his arm, “but I don’t care. I don’t have the energy for that now. I love you, there’s no reason to fight this.”
He smiled and kissed her forehead.
“Is that why you’ve been acting strangely?” she asked, chewing on her lip. “I feel like I’ve been losing you lately.”
He squeezed her tightly but shook his head. “Not exactly.”
She waited for him to elaborate, but after a moment she accepted his silence and lay comfortably next to him, eyes heavy.
They were startled by a loud banging on the bedroom door. They both jumped up and dressed quickly, and opened the door to Caelian, who excitedly informed them that Augustus had arrived with a friend in tow.
“Do you want to stay here and rest?” Helias asked Ingrid, “I know you’re exhausted.”
She shook her head. “I want to meet him.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
They went to the library together, which seemed to have become the dragons’ personal library, Ingrid mused. Augustus was seated in the middle of the couch and looked much like his brothers: tall, muscular, handsome. His red hair was unexpected, though. Ingrid looked around for his guest and realized she had overlooked her, for she was a her. She was seated next to Augustus, but pressed next to him as closely as possible, and she looked terrified. She was a small woman by any measurement, and next to him she looked tiny, all except for her big round belly which her hands were protectively covering. Augustus seemed to notice where Ingrid was looking, and he too placed his much larger hand there.
Ingrid looked up at his face, embarrassed, and smiled in what she hoped was a friendly way. He nodded almost imperceptibly. Introductions were made quickly between Augustus and Ingrid. Then he introduced his companion, Annie, and she looked even more frightened. Ingrid took pity on her and announced that she was going to fetch some tea for the group, and gently asked Annie if she would care to help.
Ingrid guided her to the kitchen after Annie nodded eagerly, and as she set water to boiling she asked Annie about her travels.
“I wanted to fly to get here faster,” she said, visibly relaxing, “but Aug insisted on a carriage because of my… condition.” She gestured at her midsection.
Ingrid was curious about that, but politely steered the conversation elsewhere. It seemed that Augustus had disobeyed his father’s orders and returned to his homeland with Annie, but something had just recently happened that spurred their departure.
As Ingrid finished preparing the tray, she turned to the other woman. “You’re safe here, you know that, right?”
Annie nodded, avoiding eye contact. “It’s just a little intimidating, I suppose.”
Ingrid laughed, agreeing. “Tarquin makes me so nervous. They all seem to like him so I’m sure he’s fine, but ugh,” she said, mock shuddering.
They started back to the library. “Not him,” Annie disagreed. “The oldest one. He— ” she stopped, as they were in front of the door.
Ingrid looked at her, confused. Why on earth would Annie be frightened of Helias?
She put the thought from her mind and set her tray down, and then took her place on the couch next to Helias. He pulled her close and she clasped his hand, and she saw Annie’s eyes widen at her.
Augustus was asking if Helias had heard from their two middle brothers, and Helias shook his head. They halted their conversation as the women returned to the room.
“I suppose since we’re all here, I should give you the news,” began Augustus, rising from his seat. “First of all, Annie is my mate.”
Ingrid looked around, and only Caelian looked surprised at the news.
“She’s carrying our child,” he continued. Ingrid’s eyes widened and she met Helias’s gaze. How was that possible? “It was unexpected but we are very pleased.”
Helias grinned and rose to embrace his brother, followed quickly by Caelian. Tarquin offered an awkward nod.
“I never thought I would be an uncle,” Caelian said, and Helias wore a grin as he settled back in his seat next to Ingrid. He laced his fingers with hers and squeezed her hand.
“Yes,” Augustus started again, “I have unfortunate news as well. When we learned of the pregnancy, Annie and I returned to Arnes. I was ready to face our father, but it was impossible. He had lost what was left of his mind.”
Ingrid shuddered and glanced at Helias; he had tensed against her and was and staring at Augustus.
“We were both immediately arrested and separated, and he ordered my pregnant mate and me into the dungeons,” he seethed, fire and wrath in his strange amber eyes. Annie reached out to touch his hand, and he visibly relaxed. “We were imprisoned for over a month, and I was never allowed an audience with him. Reis came to me eventually, he had learned of our imprisonment and freed me. We fled immediately, but I learned what I could from Reis.”
Augustus turned his attention to Helias. “The country is in the middle of an uprising. Father lost his mind and the nobles rebelled. There is death and destruction, and our kind needs a leader.” He paused and breathed deeply. “Helias, our father is dead.”
The room was deafeningly silent. Ingrid turned to Helias as he took a deep, shuddering breath, and steeled his jaw.
“Helias,” Augustus said again. “You’re
king.”
Ingrid looked up at her mate, chills prickling down her spine. She wished he would laugh or make his brother stop being ridiculous. But instead he sat still, scarcely breathing, jaw determined and focused on his brother.
“King?” she breathed. He looked down at her with sorrow in his eyes.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Helias and Ingrid finally retired to their bedroom hours later, after Ingrid had prepared a room for Augustus and Annie. The night had taken on a much more relaxed tone after the news had come out, and Helias was grateful for it. He was disappointed that he hadn’t been courageous enough to tell Ingrid about his royal status before now, but she seemed to be taking it in stride. He was shocked about the death of his father. He hadn’t anticipated that this would come any time this century, and he wasn’t pleased that it had come now. He had been looking forward to destroying the corrupted shrine and then just enjoying Ingrid for as long as he could. Obviously that wouldn’t happen now though, he couldn’t abandon his homeland. The brothers had all talked a long time about what they should do next, but after no conclusion was reached for hours they’d agreed to sleep on it.
Ingrid was fast asleep, her breathing even and slow, her face relaxed and pale in the moonlight. Helias marveled over her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, pulled the blankets up around her, and left for the library. He needed some time alone to think, to process this news. He seemed to have found everything he could have wanted here at Dragongrove with Ingrid, and then suddenly he was thrust into the role he’d been preparing for his whole life, but had never expected to actually fill.
He sighed and stared into the fire smoldering low in the fireplace. He felt completely out of options. He needed Ingrid with him, but he knew that she didn’t wish to leave her home, and besides, if the conflict in his homeland was so great, he absolutely could not have her there. On the other hand, no matter how much he wished it, he knew he couldn’t abandon his people now, not when he was possibly the only being who could restore peace to the land.
Helias ran his hands through his hair and leaned back in his seat. Would he be able to leave Ingrid here at Dragongrove while he and his brothers assessed the situation? He wasn’t sure. He suspected that Augustus wouldn’t be comfortable bringing Annie with him, especially if the child had arrived by then. The thought unexpectedly cheered him. Without any females they had resigned themselves to being the last of their kind, and the knowledge that there was hope gave him peace. He pictured Ingrid, suddenly, with a big swollen belly, and his heart felt like bursting. It only strengthened his resolve that she absolutely couldn’t come to Arnes until there was peace again; she was too precious.
It also strengthened his resolve that they needed to deal with this shrine, and quickly. He was uncomfortable with Ingrid nursing the ill, although he would never try to stop her, but he wondered if she was as immune as she thought. He wondered about that, again, and decided to look into it. He reached for the most recent book he had found useful; it described in great detail how a dragon shrine had been destroyed in the past. He was concerned about how it described the aftermath: a smoking crater in the ground. Ingrid’s ancestral home was built atop this one, and he was trying to find any information he could to keep the house intact.
He read late into the night, his exhausted mind wandering frequently, but trying to keep himself focused on the task at hand. As the sun crested over the horizon his eyes drooped and he knew no more.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ingrid awoke the next morning to a cold and empty bed. She was disappointed, then confused, and then remembered the events of the night before and realized that Helias was probably off by himself, thinking things over. She had been shocked, completely taken aback by the news. Her mate was the king of all dragons, and while the thought made her almost nauseated with worry, it also filled her with a tiny little flutter of excitement. He was so good, and she knew with full confidence that he would set things right.
When she first learned about the news, she had been angry at him. As the night had continued on, however, with more light hearted conversation, she thought about why he would have kept it to himself. She knew he only had wished not to frighten her away. He had been nervous enough just to tell her that they were mates. She shivered with involuntary pleasure at the thought. It frustrated her that he didn’t seem to believe that she wouldn’t run again, but she could hardly blame him; the thought of him running from her tore her apart. She would just have to prove to him over time that she would remain by his side through anything.
As Ingrid showered she resolved to tell him that, again. She knew he would need to return to his homeland, and she was determined that she would go with him. Her life seemed to be taking her on quite a different path than the one she’d imagined only months ago, but she was satisfied that as long as Helias was by her side she would find happiness.
When she was clean and dressed she ventured out to find him. She found him right where she expected, sprawled across the couch in the library, book open on his chest, fast asleep. She woke him with a kiss, and he was kissing her back before he was fully conscious. He pulled her onto him before she knew what was happening, his hands on her backside, squeezing and rubbing. She giggled at that and pulled her face from his.
“Breakfast first?” she asked. “I’m starving.”
He nodded and sat up, and let her guide him to breakfast. Helias sat next to Tarquin, who was already seated at the long table. Ingrid squeezed his shoulder and gestured that she would be sitting at the other end, with some of the newer residents.
She sat down next to Mira and helped herself to a large pile of scrambled eggs. She noticed Helias look at her plate with disgust and she laughed to herself. Mira was barely awake, she had spent the night on infirmary duty. Ingrid asked her about Margaret, and Mira seemed to agree that she seemed as if she was slowly regaining strength. Ingrid was very pleased. They had lost so many to illness over the years, and although she wasn’t as devastated by loss as she had been at first, it was always hard to lose a patient. Margaret had been holding on much longer than most had, and she truly hoped that the young woman would recover.
After breakfast she returned to the infirmary. She made her way to the furthest wing of the house, eager to see Margaret’s progress for herself. As she reached for the door she jumped, as it swung open toward her. There was Caelian, oddly, looking shocked to see her and somewhat sheepish.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him, surprised he even knew this part of the house existed.
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Visiting, I suppose.”
“Visiting patients?” Ingrid clarified, still confused.
He nodded slightly, looking embarrassed. “Do you think any will recover?” he asked.
“I hope so,” she said, confused. “Some are doing better than others.”
Caelian sighed and looked defeated.
“I’m going to check on things then, would you like to help me?”
“I’d love to,” he said, surprising her.
Ingrid was very confused, but Caelian seemed interested and she was happy for the help. Ingrid showed him how to mix and crush the herbs correctly, and set him to that task while she brought out her notebook and noted any changes to each patient. He was intent on his task, but seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time staring at Margaret’s face.
Ingrid paused at the foot of Margaret’s bed. “Do you know this woman?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said, not moving his gaze from the unconscious woman.
“Margaret?” Ingrid prompted, wondering if he would recognize the name.
“Margaret,” he breathed almost reverently. He straightened after a moment and changed the subject. “You didn’t know, did you? About our father being King.”
“I didn’t,” she agreed.
He paused, and regarded her thoughtfully. “Are you Helias’s mate?”
She nodded onc
e.
“I don’t know why he didn’t tell me it was possible,” he murmured, staring blankly into his bowl.
“He only just told me yesterday,” she said, “right before Augustus and Annie arrived.”
He looked much more thoughtful than she had ever seen him, and she wondered where the flirtatious, carefree Caelian that she had met had gone. Her eyes widened then and she followed his gaze to the sleeping girl on the bed.
“Caelian,” she began, cautiously, “is she your- are you-?”
“I don’t know,” he said, looking at her helplessly, unshed tears glittering in his clear blue eyes. “Please help her to get better. She has to get better.”