by May Sage
“Why don’t you just give up? Go home?” It made no sense. If she did that, all of them would be saved.
Nimue smiled sadly. “It’s not quite as simple as that. In our society, those who contribute, and do their purpose well, are revered, honored. If I were to go home, I would lose everything. My sister will rise to be the Heir of Avalon and I’ll forever remain the one who felt homesick.”
Oh, for the sake of every god listening in. “You’re kidding. You’ll doom us all for your pride.”
Nimue tilted her head. “I will.”
She wasn’t even a little bit apologetic. What the fuck.
“Although, I am giving you a fair chance. When my sister gives up, soon, I’ll be recalled home. I’ll leave a breach in the wall for a short time - a breach through which thousands of monsters will pass, so it certainly shall be dangerous. But you’ll feel it. You’ll see it. And, if you’re smart, you’ll do as I tell you, and pass through.”
Nimue got to her feet, swiping dirt off her ass, before walking away.
“It was nice seeing you again, little hick.”
“I wish I could say the same,” she retorted, before asking, “What of Vincent?”
Nimue clicked her fingers and the man opened his eyes immediately. Jumping to his feet, he pushed her behind him, away from Nimue, who just smiled kindly. “I would have already killed her if I’d wished to,” she said, before vanishing as suddenly as she’d appeared.
“Was it her?”
Talia nodded. “Yes, yes it was.”
“Where are we?” he asked, and she just laughed.
“No clue. Not too far, I hope.”
Vincent smirked. “That shouldn’t be a problem, regardless. Now tell me what happened here; then, we can go.”
She hated flying. Hated it. Hated it. She screamed the whole time. Which was why she had no clue how, when they reached Farden, landing before the gates of the King’s palace, she laughed.
Vincent’s beast’s large blue head bumped her and she caressed its rough scales softly. “We’ll have to do that again,” she told the dragon, who - unless she wasn’t mistaken - actually purred.
Were dragons supposed to purr? Before she could question that, he shifted back into a very naked man.
Despite the late hour, there were people about, guards and midnight walkers, who all gasped, before rushing to his side, full of congratulations.
Vincent accepted a coat from a guard - no doubt, they kept these handy around here - and made his excuses, as politely as he could, to get them inside the walls of the palace.
They needed to see their sovereigns, immediately.
21
The Small Council
The King didn’t call a full Council in the middle of the night, but there would be one in the morning now. Rhey listened in silence. Xandrie frowned the whole time, and Claws, at her feet, seemed ready to pounce, feeling just how tense the situation was. Aleria, who’d been there to greet them as soon as they’d come back, had also joined them in the royal chamber beneath the castle - a large cave with mountains of gold.
Xandrie had decorated; now, the living area was warm and inviting, with plush furniture, books, and, of course, given her taste, a few different weapons lying around.
The second time Vincent heard his treasure repeat the words of the goddess who would doom them all was just as terrifying as the first.
Nimue had given him, given them an out. If they reached the breach she’d offered to make, they would live. But what of everyone else? The rest of the world they belonged to. Since the Rift, their kind, be they in Farden or Absolia, had taken a step back from man and elves, but they were still part of this world, were they not? Would they leave them to die?
Ultimately the decision rested on Rhey, who remained silent and thoughtful after Talia was done. Or so Vincent would have thought. But Xandrie’s hand went to his arm, and she whispered, “We need to help.”
Slowly, the King nodded, agreeing with his Queen.
“Before I ever left Malek, I met two people. I didn’t talk of it - in fact, I gave my word that I wouldn’t. But I’m not one to believe in coincidences. That I met them then, and am now the first to hear of such darkness…” she stopped digressing from the current subject, returning to her tale. “I saw the elf Princes of Aryn and Endar. Turin and Argon,” said she. “The Truth Seeker, and the Aether-born.”
Both of whom were rumored to be dead.
Everyone’s gaze focused on her now.
“They told me they were on a quest to stop the Shadows. I think,” she tried, “I think they might know of this, somehow. I believe they may be fighting against it. Perhaps looking for the second twin as we speak.”
“The one who, should she return first, would have us all killed.”
“We should find her and lock her in a cell forever,” Vincent grumbled, making Talia laugh.
“Yes, that’s going to work. Let’s lock up a goddess. Who would kill us all, if she gave up on us.” Talia said, “It’s not about attempting to stop the inevitable. One of these women is going to go home, and soon. I saw how tired and depressed Nimue is. She’s acting now, plotting and spreading horrors to force her sister to despair. Let’s show her she shouldn’t. Let’s spread as much goodness as we can. And if I ever come across that woman, well, I, for one, will love her, give her a damn hug and tell her she isn’t alone. That might be the only thing we can do at this point.”
Aleria was next to speak. “I agree. But while hoping for the best may help, I also recommend preparing for the worst. She said their shield is similar to the one at Norda, only stronger. We could attempt to replicate it - protect our cities, somehow. We’ll need help - scientists, alchemists, engineers. It means having to call to every Kingdom out there.”
It meant their world changing forever. Sharing their technology, mending fences with old enemies - perhaps even Absolia, which had, long ago, been known for its greed and corruption. The Kingdom of Fiery Shadows, it was called, because, instead of using their Aether, the good part of their souls, they’d all given into the Shadows. But surely, even they would agree that it was time for peace now, for the greater good?
Vincent pulled Talia close and held her in his arms. All that talk of darkness and upcoming doom was making one thing crystal clear: he needed her to become his in every way, and quite immediately.
“We’ll send messengers everywhere,” said the King.
“Dragons should roam the land in search of the elves, until we can assure them we intend to be of aid,” added the Queen, who was met with nods of ascent. Her word was also law.
Then, frowning, Vincent asked, “Where’s Demelza?”
The commotion in the castle should have awoken her and brought her here. Unless she’d taken to wandering again.
“Away,” replied Xandrie, frowning again. “She’s fine, but earlier, I felt…strange.” She was absentmindedly rubbing at the Aether mark on her hand. “Ignore me. She’s fine.”
She was hiding something. Rhey’s gaze made it clear that he was aware of it and intended to find out exactly what.
“Well,” Vincent said, feeling like their welcome had passed, and, besides, he very much wished to be alone with Talia now, “let us leave you to the rest of your night. There’s much to do tomorrow, and all that.”
“Vincent?” Rhey called. His brow was stern, but a small smile teased his lips. “We won’t expect either of you to surface till late on the morrow.”
Good.
22
The Peace
Talia was exhausted, physically and mentally. Still, she had the sense to ask, “Where are we going?” when Vincent took the wrong turn, once they’d reached the family wing.
“My apartments,” he replied simply.
“Oh.”
She bit her lips.
“Where we shall both sleep,” he added.
She giggled nervously, avoiding his gaze. Naughty thoughts had been plastered on her face, no doubt.
�
��I certainly intend to give you cause for all that blushing. Later. You’re tired.”
He said it like her being tired meant that he’d have her sleep, and, no doubt, when she was hungry, he’d see her fed, and when she was sad, he’d do his best to make her smile.
Vincent Vasili was everything one might wish in a man, and she wished she had the gall to tell him so.
When they reached his room, she found that she belonged here. There were dark wood furnishings and red curtains and bedding. One wall was covered in books, another one, with paintings. Someone had left a violin on a bench.
“You play?”
“Badly, and never in public,” he replied.
“You’ll play for me?”
She didn’t quite word it like a question, possibly because she knew the answer already. A nod. “I’ll play for you. Now get in bed, before I change my mind and decide to keep you up.”
She half wished he would. Self-conscious throughout the ordeal, she worked on the ties of her dress and finally let it drop on the floor, thankful she’d worn her pretty new lingerie today.
“You could pretend to look elsewhere,” she admonished Vincent, who was shamelessly gazing at her.
“Oh, Talia. Trust me when I say I couldn’t.”
She hid under his covers. “Where shall I lie? Might you have a favorite side of the bed?”
“Whichever one you’ll pick.”
It was his turn to get undressed and she now understood why he hadn’t looked away. Watching him remove each piece of clothing made her ache, want, desire. She bit her lip.
“Come on, little temptress. You’re tired, so, for now, let us go to sleep.”
His joined her, and, as promised, invaded her side of the bed, his strong arms caging her in, cocooning her.
Fading, she wondered how she’d ever slept any other way.
Talia woke up in the way she wanted to be awakened the next day, the day after that, and again, each morrow until the end of time. Noises she hadn’t believed herself able to make came out of her mouth. She wondered if she’d died and had reached the high heavens, until she opened her eyes.
Vincent’s head was buried between her legs, doing ungodly things with his tongue, teeth, and lips. She seemed to have regained consciousness quite late in the game, because it had all just started as far as she was concerned, and her body was already at its limit, needing release, toes curled, every part of her so tense it hurt.
She was close, so close to falling over the edge, and yet the man pulled back; her jaw dropped in shock and betrayal. And he was grinning, like he was quite proud of his actions.
“You’d leave me like this?”
She sounded astounded and hurt all at once.
“Not if you’re a very good girl,” he replied, crawling up so that they were at eye level. As he got on top of her, she felt his hot and heavy manhood brush against her heat. Oh, not that brand of torture again! The tease would be the death of her. “But this time, I’ll have you come around my cock.”
Oh.
Her eyes were wide open. So was her mouth, thinking of it. He didn’t intend to tease her then, he wanted her, here and now.
Her insides clenched.
“I want you, Natalia Astria. I want you at my side, commanding Norda, as my equal. I want you next to me until the end of time. You’ll be a princess of the realm, my wife, and the queen ruling over my world. I wish I could give you a pleasing courtship, months of flirting, and getting down on one knee before the realm. I tried, but the truth is, I’m a beast. A beast who wants, and needs, to claim every part of you.”
Finally, she managed to make her frazzled brain recall how she was supposed to do the speaking thing.
“That’s all well and good, but why aren’t you inside me yet?”
He chuckled, but there was an edge to his laughter. “Oh, you’ve asked for it,” he said.
His hands seized her waist and before she knew what was happening, with an inhuman speed, he’d flipped her over on all fours. She looked back at him just in time, as he penetrated her deep, in one sudden thrust. Talia cried out. If she could have formed a word, she might have asked him to stop, move away; his invasion was painful.
Then he moved a little out, and back in, and it wasn’t painful at all. Vincent did it again, and she found herself saying, “Oh!”, surprised by just how pleasurable one little movement could be.
Chuckling, Vincent practically withdrew from her all the way before plunging back in, and this time, angling her hips towards him, she outright moaned. He quickened his pace and she moved to meet him, panting, begging for more.
This time, Vincent didn’t deny her her release; when he felt her tightening, he took her deeper, harder, quicker, until she screamed at the top of her voice, and relaxed onto the bed.
“Oh, sweet thing,” said he, ever so softly, “bless you for thinking we’re done already.”
He flipped them both, and the next instant, he was lying back, with her on top of him. Fuck. The new angle made her heat immediately grow hotter and tighter against the hard length that had never gone down inside her.
“Come on, sweet thing. Show me how one rides a dragon.”
The King had been right the previous night: it was late in the afternoon before they surfaced.
“I insist,” she said, and Vincent sighed, giving in, like she’d known he would.
“Fine. You can play with the dragon this evening. But we have plenty of work now.”
That’s how, a few hours after the Council met, where she’d repeated the details of her meeting with Nimue, Talia found herself in the garden, lying down next to the blue beast.
“Would you like me to read something?” she asked, moving to get one of the books she’d brought with her.
It turned out, the dragon didn’t much like it when she moved. A low, rumbly warning resounded when she managed to get to her feet.
“I won’t be a second.”
His little growl was resigned this time.
The dragon’s glowing eyes were fixed on her as she shuffled through the volumes.
It occurred to Talia that a sane woman might have felt a certain degree of fear, in her shoes. But she didn’t. She knew that the creature wouldn’t hurt her.
Still. He was a wild thing; his fire might be useless against her while she wore her maille, but he could still eat her whole. His front teeth were almost as tall as she was.
Something wet and cold fell on the tip of her nose and she lifted her head towards the sky. Oh, great. It was starting to rain. Time to go back inside, then. She regretted that their playtime had been cut so short.
The dragon made that funny sound again - not quite a growl, just something to call her attention.
“What?” she asked, turning to him.
He’d moved a little, curled in a half circle with one of his wings pulled up.
“Oh.”
Timidly, Talia tiptoed to him, uncertain that she’d read him right. She watched him, careful for any sign that he’d had enough of playing with his human.
He didn’t make another sound, so she put her palm on his belly.
It was very different from what she could have imagined of a dragon. The scales on this side were softer than the ones on his back, as if polished. They weren’t blazing hot; just radiating a delicious warmth.
“Well, don’t mind if I do.”
She sat on the ground, her back against his heat.
“Once upon a time,” she read, “in the fair Camelot…”
Epilogue
A boy came to find him that morning, bearing a message that made him leave the family wing and head to the one place where he’d never stepped foot without being up to mischief in the past.
Nathos’ office hadn’t changed - it was sparse and clinically organized.
“Your Highness. You’ve been hard to pin down.”
No doubt. He barely spent any time in his apartments, not leaving Talia from dawn to dusk.
“These last fe
w days have been full, as you can imagine, but I believe I might have found details about the…matter we discussed.”
He pointed to a leather-bound book on his desk - bound in blue, which meant that it came from Nathos’ personal collection, the only few volumes Vincent had never managed to locate.
He lifted a brow.
“Help yourself. Unless books are only tasteful to you when you aren’t permitted to take them.”
“You knew?”
The Elder rolled his eyes. “There isn’t much happening in these walls without my knowing, Prince.”
That, Vincent didn’t doubt.
“We were right to be suspicious. From what I’ve read, Riders do come from the same families. When one sibling was chosen, before the Rift, the other children in the family were watched closely and encouraged to link themselves to a dragon. Sometimes it occurred, sometimes not. But even without the link, they did tend to exhibit the same characteristics as fully developed Riders.” After a beat, he added, “And were often wedded amongst our kind.”
No surprise at all there.
“So their entire family…”
“It’s not quite as simple. Their parents may be, for all intents and purposes, very regular mages. They simply had the right genes, and mixed together, the result was extraordinary.”
The Elder was one of the dullest men he knew, but even then, he hadn’t looked or sounded quite so wary in the past. Vincent found himself asking, “Is everything alright?”
Nathos hesitated.
“I’m old. Very old. And tired, too. I imagined these next few years would be my last.”
If anyone had asked Vincent whether he liked the elder, he might have shrugged. Hearing him say that, though, he wanted to roar and jump out of his skin in protest. Nathos wasn’t going anywhere.
“What this woman represents…” he sighed. “I’ve never felt this way. I want her.” He practically growled. “I want to keep her safe and care for her. She insinuated herself into my world overnight.”