Dancer Dragon: Bodyguard Shifters #6
Page 17
"Yes," Esme said, smiling.
She and Heikon were still working out the details, but it was looking like they'd probably spend half the year at the mountain, and the other half in the city. Esme was already thinking it might be nice to have a summer getaway, and then all winter long for working on her music and teaching her students, with restaurants and symphonies and nice stores to shop in.
The future was looking bright. Brighter than it ever had.
"Yes," she said again, more firmly. "I'll be back."
Epilogue
There were few things to compare with the wedding of a dragon clanlord, with the entire clan in attendance.
The clan had been busy for weeks, hunting game for a tremendous feast and decorating the entire mountain with flowers. And then the guests began to arrive. Heikon had been clanlord for a very long time, and he'd accumulated a lot of friends and allies among the other clans. There were representatives from nearly every one of the major clans, as well as most of Esme's clan, the red-haired, aristocratic Lavignas mingling somewhat awkwardly with Heikon's more down-to-earth, rural clan.
Heikon's mother was there, joining them for a clan function for the first time in a very long time.
Darius Keegan was there, with his visibly pregnant mate Loretta. Ben and Tessa were there, Darius's son with the former keeper of the Heart of Heikon's hoard—now retired to a simple life as a wife and mother and (from what Heikon had heard) the founder and leader of a cat rescue. Given what he'd seen of Tessa, he could only imagine that a great many cats were going to be rescued.
Melody and Gunnar were there, with the children (Dash and Ginny) wrapped up in blankets. It looked like neither of them had started to shift yet. With one dragon parent and one bear parent, there was no telling what kind of shifters they were going to turn out to be. But Heikon could tell—watching Esme bending over her grandchildren, and seeing the joy on Melody's face to match her mother's—that no matter what the children shifted into, they would be loved.
He and Esme had a simple ceremony in the sakura grove. It was long past spring flowering time, but the young trees rose straight and green. At the end of the ceremony, each of them planted a seed, and then select members of the clan came forward and planted seeds of their own, including Reive.
Heikon found himself watching Reive carefully. The young man had never seemed to fully recover after being injured. He was still unusually pale, and moved slowly and carefully. Even now, as Reive straightened up and handed his shovel to Anjelica, Heikon saw him turn away from her and then wince involuntarily, starting to raise a hand to touch his arm before he dropped it again.
"One moment, my love," Heikon murmured, and left Esme to talk to her clanmates, weaving among the crowd to join Reive.
As soon as he saw his uncle, Reive smoothed out his face, the look of pain vanishing.
"Are you all right, nephew?"
"I'm fine," Reive said. He smiled. "Just a twinge from an old wound; it's nothing. I don't know about you, but I'm ready for the buffet table. I've been smelling that meat cooking all morning."
Heikon meant to follow up on it, but Reive was moving fine now, as if the moment of weakness had only been an aberration. After all, there was no telling how long it took to recover from gargoyle poison; such a thing was unknown before. Heikon himself had taken years to fully recover from the dragonsbane—twenty years, in fact, if the loss of the mate bond counted as a wound.
Esme slipped into his personal space, slim and graceful. She had opted not to wear a traditional wedding dress; instead she was dressed in green and white, with a crown of flowers in her long, unbound hair. She was, as always, gorgeous enough to put his gardens to shame.
"My mate," he murmured, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "My wife."
Esme beamed at him, and all other thoughts were washed away in the sunlight-on-leaves gleam of her green eyes. The bond between them thrummed gently with her pleasure and joy.
"I think this day is perfect except for one thing," she said, and raised a hand.
From somewhere among the trees, music began to play. Heikon had seen them out here earlier, Esme directing a dozen younger members of the clan as they strung wire around the gardens and set up stereo equipment. Now the garden filled with music, and his heart filled with love.
"My love," Esme murmured. "Shall we dance?"
Heikon closed his eyes and leaned into her arms, and there was nothing in the world but contentment and joy for him, for them, and the promise of a future far beyond his wildest dreams.
* * *
It was not to the buffet that Reive went, but instead deep into the gardens. The bowers of roses, the dense stands of flowers and foliage closed around him, shutting out the world.
If there was one thing Uncle's gardens were good at, it was providing private places to hide. He'd known that since he was a kid.
He sank onto a stone bench under one of the bowers. Roses growing on a wooden trellis shielded him from view, but he would hear anyone coming by the crunching of their feet on the gravel path. Anyway, as the music began out of sight, he figured everyone would be too busy to bother him for a while.
His right arm ached down to the bone. It was the kind of pain that comes from severe cold, the sort of pain when your hands are so chilled that even the bones hurt. Like an ice-cream headache but deep in the body.
It was sometimes better, sometimes worse, and sometimes, like today, it distracted him so he could hardly think. But ever since his poisoning, he hadn't been free of it.
And now there was something else. Wincing, he rolled up his sleeve.
The gargoyle's poison spikes had left a row of small, puckered scars on his arm. This was unusual; shifters did not normally scar. But it wasn't unheard-of. A bad enough wound could still leave scars behind.
And at first, scars were all they had been.
Now each of them had become grayish and hard, numb to the touch. Each patch of grayish skin was about the size of a dime. They marched up his arm where the spikes had struck him, almost up to his shoulder.
Reive was pretty sure they hadn't been quite that big yesterday.
He prodded at one of them. It was cold and hard to the touch. When he tapped it, his fingernail clicked against stone.
His right hand lay in his lap. He turned it over and flexed it. To all outward appearances, it looked normal, and he couldn't tell if it was just his imagination that it seemed to respond more sluggishly than it used to. He flexed his hand a few more times, and felt a sharp twinge of pain race up his arm.
He turned his arm so he could look at it again. Two of the dime-size spots of stone, the two that were closest together, now had a thread of stone connecting them. He prodded at it, and found it hard to the touch, like something embedded under the skin. The flesh ached around it.
Reive let out a shuddering breath and slumped against the back of the bench. He rolled down his sleeve before anyone could see.
What he had feared was true. He was turning to stone.
Reive’s story will be told in DARK MAGIC DRAGON, coming in 2020!
A note from Zoe Chant
Thank you for buying my book! I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like to be emailed when I release my next book, please click here to be added to my mailing list: http://www.zoechant.com/join-my-mailing-list/. You can also visit my webpage at zoechant.com or follow me on Facebook or Twitter. You are also invited to join my VIP Readers Group on Facebook!
Please consider reviewing Dancer Dragon, even if you only write a line or two. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.
Dark Magic Dragon, Bodyguard Shifters #7, Reive’s book, will be out in 2020.
Cover art: © Depositphoto.com
Also by Zoe Chant
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Boxed Set #1 (collects Books 1-3)
Boxed Set #2 (collects Books 4-6)
And more … see my website for a full list at zoechant.com!
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