Iris's Guardian (White Tigers of Brigantia Book 2)
Page 75
“Didn’t want to keep all the glory to myself,” he whispered in her ear, before kissing it, and allowing themselves to arrange into a comfortable embrace.
Exhausted with happiness – who knew such a thing could wear you out? – Anya fell into a deep sleep, breathing in Kalgrin’s musky scent, secure in the wrap of his arms around her.
Security. What a strange thing to feel, and to know you had it. Her family were tucked away safely in that fort town which she didn’t remember the name of. She flew the skies with Kalgrin, spoke to the broken, the people who had forgotten what hoped looked like, who had been reduced to animals, simply living for themselves and their own survival, not caring about anyone else. Anything else.
It needed a special kind of work to coax these people out of their shells. Words didn’t work. Not really. Attitude did. Showing them the reality of their new world did. And giving them the chance to step out on their own.
She couldn’t blame them in the end. Depression settled like a heavy blanket, smothering those it touched. Clouds followed them, brewing their storms. And their night terrors filled dark silences. They lived, but not really. And Anya had tried to live, but she was stagnating, withered away by the years. She would have died in that place.
She woke up once in the night, sweat coating her face. A half-remembered nightmare, of being chased, the wyrm’s feet pounding the earth beneath her as she ran. There had been mud upon her arms and legs, but it dried up, caking her, making it harder to move forward. Maybe if she could fly, hop up into the air…
But those wyrms would never stop. The sound of their feet somehow always clattered in the distance. The vibration of each footfall carried the taste of hate.
Kalgrin slumbered like a babe at her side, his arms sprawled out, taking space under the pillows. Half the bed covers wrapped itself around his lower half, leaving his chest exposed, which rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm.
Anya watched this for a while, relaxing in the calm of Kalgrin’s deep sleep. Reminding herself that somehow, this drake had become hers. She didn’t want to risk waking him up, so she left him untouched.
It made her heart ache to see how beautiful he was, even cast in shadows. Sometimes in the dark, people’s faces took on frightening visages. She didn’t know why, just that the dark increased her level of fear. No fear lingered here. Smiling, she soon fell asleep again.
Waking up to an empty bed, Anya stretched out languorously, the sheets slipping over her bare skin. She didn’t regret a moment of her choice. She didn’t regret staying with Kalgrin, with sharing her heart and soul with him, or falling in love with him.
Yes. It was love. Such a tiny word. Such a powerful feeling.
Her family existed in a better place. But many more families didn’t. And as long as she stayed by Kalgrin’s side, she actively helped contribute to the cause he followed. It became her cause, her calling. And she fell that little bit more in love.
Kalgrin smiled at her when she walked into his kitchen. The smell of cooking food lured her, and she lifted her nose to sniff. Eggs and toast and sausages. Simple but filling. And exotic, compared to the slops she tasted at the plantation.
“A good, hearty breakfast is the best way to start the day,” Kalgrin declared. “Though I usually prefer honeyed porridge. I work better in my day when I have a full stomach.”
Anya agreed. She skipped meals in the past, but if you headed off to the wheat fields without food, you found yourself drained so fast that you could barely stay upright.
“I could get very, very used to this. Having you cook for me in the mornings.”
“You can do the same for me. When I go over to your house.” He winked at her, before flipping the egg over in the little pan over the hearth. The sausages were already cooked. The heat from the hearth radiated through the room, warming up the cool space. Anya stepped outside for a moment, inhaling the cool air, before she noticed that there were those little envelopes on the ground. The ones with the letters that she couldn’t read.
Taking one last glance out into the crisp late morning, taking in the bustle of people going about their business and the calls of stall owners trying to attract people to their wares, Anya ducked back inside, clutching the letters.
“Kal. Some letters for you.” The messy-haired drake took them from her and inspected them.
“Huh. One’s for you. From… your mother, I believe.”
“Oh!” Right. She hadn’t passed on the new home to her mother yet. Kendra still thought her daughter lived here, so of course the letters would come to Kal. “I can’t read it.”
“I know. I’ll do it for you, unless you want to get a scribe?”
Anya shook her head. She wanted Kalgrin to know the contents of the letter as well. The drake opened the envelope and examined the squiggles all along the page.
“Actually, let me finish the cooking. We don’t want it to get cold, do we?”
He cooked the last of the eggs and spilled them over buttered toast. Anya sat at his little table, grabbed a fork and knife, and tucked into her delicious breakfast. The smell of the food lingered in an appetizing way, saturating the air around them. Kalgrin wanted to finish eating first before starting on the letter, and he wolfed down the food fast.
“Wow. You don’t waste time when it comes to food, do you?”
He let out a belch, which made Anya blink, half in amusement, half in disgust.
“Sorry. My digestive system can be a bit odd at times. Okay.” He cleaned his hands and dried them off, before taking the letter and settling back into the seat. “Dearest daughter. I hope everything’s well with you, and you’ve gotten around to a relationship with Kalgrin at last. I know you were stalling, but I’m telling you, you’ll be hard pressed to find better.”
Kalgrin paused. “Huh. Did she try to foist you off on me?”
“Yes,” Anya admitted. “But I didn’t want to think of her as being right that we were attracted to one another. She’d likely chase me to the ends of the world until I got into a relationship with someone respectable. She always had hopes I’d break the cycle.”
“Well,” Kalgrin said, grinning, “you might just have done that, haven’t you?” Then he frowned. “Though should I be concerned that your mother wanted to shove us together?”
“Probably not. Just watch out for the grandchildren queries.”
Kalgrin chuckled before reading more of the letter.
“I named all the children proper. Your two sisters are now Jeyna and Daisy, and the two little ones are Bodrin and Kallen. Named in honor of the wonderful drake who saved us, of course.”
Kalgrin’s expression grew soft at the mention of a child being named after him. Meanwhile, Anya felt little stabs of irritation because her mother didn’t say which sibling was which. The rest of the letter mainly focused on when Anya was going to come and visit, or when Kendra might be able to visit her. She wanted to know all about everything, since although the fort town was a nice enough place, there weren’t a lot of humans there, and she still struggled at times to snap out of what the plantations had done to her.
Five children, and she didn’t want to lose a single one.
That was Kendra for you. Yet, for some reason, Kendra had risked all her family to get Anya away. She wanted to include that question in the next letter.
“I’ve never had people praise me like this,” Kalgrin said, still wearing that soft expression. He passed the finished letter reverently to Anya. “Don’t tell anyone, but I feel like crying big, manly tears.”
“Manly?” Now it was Anya’s turn to raise an eyebrow. She plucked at her food, finishing off the rest of the egg.
“Of course. If I plan to keep you around, you’d rather have someone reliable to support you, right?”
For some reason, this statement seemed to darken the mood. Anya wondered why her emotions had sunk. Perhaps it came because of her need for independence, instead of being constantly supported. She let it go, however. He meant well.
Back in her house, Anya aimed for another quick rest.
She planned to go with him next week to one of the plantation areas. She wanted to see if all plantations were the same, or if some had more or less cruelty than hers.
“It’s dangerous,” Kalgrin had told her when she had first asked, “but I can see you’ve got that determined glint in your eyes. I’ll say this: If you want to get involved with infiltrating these areas, you’ll need more training. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go to those places without some kind of basic self-defense.”
“So, teach me,” was her response.
“With pleasure,” he replied, bending to kiss her hand. He looked so proud in that moment, standing by her side. Admiring the spirit inside her body. Allowed to be a part of her life, by a choice of her own making.
She knew full well the path she now chose wouldn’t be easy. She knew Kalgrin, despite his jovial manner, his casual way of dipping himself into dangerous situations, might die any day. One mistake when he crept into an isolated lordling’s home, and she’d no longer have a lover returning home. But, well, if a bloody dragon wanted to risk his life for humans, then surely, she could do the same in return. And support him in any way possible.
A few of the former plantation slaves had chosen to settle in Tarn, enjoying the simple, vibrant life of a small town where people ended up sticking to one another like glue. Others had run away into the wilderness, not being able to handle the truth. Likely they would have died or been recaptured.
Something, Anya decided, is very wrong with everything. If what Kalgrin said was true, if humans once used magic to rule the world, then lost it… had the wyrms originally started enslaving humans out of revenge? And did they never let go of that hate, even though the humans born centuries later no longer remembered what it was they did?
She really didn’t like that the wyrms might have a valid justification for what they did. No. It’s not valid. It’s never valid to treat people like they don’t deserve to live.
But it did feel like fighting a difficult, uphill battle. One where she wasn’t sure if humans could ever reach the top.
He said humans had magic, though. And it might be possible that many under our noses can use it, but never reveal it. She decided that for Kalgrin, she’d pay attention to the serfs and slaves they helped, and see if any of them had the spark of magic.
She scheduled a letter to send to her mother. Just her general thoughts and feelings, and confirming that she did get together with Kal, and worked closely with him on a number of projects. The scribe had glanced at her a few times, a little surprised to hear she came from a plantation, but otherwise kept impartial to the matter. Likely she heard all sorts of interesting things in her effort to transcribe speech.
Anya wandered through the little town of Tarn afterwards, thinking hard on where she wanted to aim her life. Perhaps she could go to the northlands in time, without fear of the wyrms. Maybe not to a fort town – she suspected life in those to be uniform, with everyone having their set routines and cautions in place.
She settled at the inn once more and saw Seon, strangely morose, taking her time cleaning out the insides of an already glistening jar.
“What’s wrong, Seon?” Anya ventured over to the bar counter, and sat with her arms folded as Seon continued polishing the glass.
“Oh, nothing.” She gave a wry smile when Anya appeared less than impressed with her answer. “Okay. It’s something. I’m just a little worried because I’ve been seeing more of a wyrm presence in the area lately.”
“Really?” Anya had only seen a few in the whole time living here.
“Yes. You just don’t get wyrms here, you know? But for some reason, they’re insisting on regular patrols through the streets. Drakes and humans might hiss at them, but we can’t legally stop the idea of community protection from the city. But it seems like they’re looking for something.”
A chill went through Anya’s heart. Are they chasing me? Kalgrin? The feeling lingered, before Seon said, “Don’t worry. I don’t think it’s anything to do with you or Kalgrin. That happened far away in some little rural place nobody cares about. They’ll likely assume the slaves revolted. So don’t worry about that.”
Anya deflated slightly. “Sorry. I keep thinking… having nightmares that they’re still coming after me.”
“I suspected as much. No. I don’t know what they want. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
The way Seon kept polishing that glass, though, told Anya that maybe she did have an idea of what they wanted, but didn’t plan to tell Anya. Perhaps in time, with some more trust.
“So,” Seon said, “did you do the thing with Kal yet? I’m waiting.”
Anya blushed brighter than a ruby. “Uh… yes? We did the thing.”
The barmaid cackled in delight, now finally putting that glass away. “Okay, this I have to hear. How did you get around to it?”
“We just… did. I turned up at his door, dressed in a way so he saw a hint of what I looked like under the clothes… and I guess we’re a couple now.”
“Good. You two make a good one. He’s a good man. Drake. Whatever. You have enough spine in you to not let yourself be completely walked over. And you’re going back to places that you have every right to not even want to touch, ever again. I admire you. Just keep at it, okay?” Seon gave Anya a pat on the back, and the two women shared a smile.
She returned back to Kalgrin’s house later in the evening, giving a small knock, hoping he’d be in. When he answered, she stumbled into his arms and planted her lips upon his.
“Mmf,” Kalgrin said, gray eyes amused. Anya removed her lips from caressing his. “I could get used to that. I’ll feed you if you want, just don’t expect anything more than tomato soup.”
Anya smiled. “That will be perfect.”
“Obviously. I’m a perfect guy. Well, since you’re here, I don’t have to knock on your door about it. Fancy coming to see my parents tomorrow?”
“Uh…” Anya blinked rapidly. “Is that necessary?”
“They don’t bite. My mother, I bet, would love to see you. She sent me a letter a few days back, asking when I’d be coming over, asking if any nice ladies had wandered into my life. Bet she’ll love to hear how we met.”
Anya laughed, though she ran a hand nervously through her brown hair. Kalgrin’s parents wouldn’t be like human ones in the plantations. Likely they gave him a wonderful upbringing, a balanced one without him needing to work before he became the right age to do so. “Sure. But I admit I’m kind of terrified they won’t like me.” Or me them.
“I don’t mind. I want to introduce you to them eventually. It can be tomorrow, or it can be a little longer if you’re uncomfortable.”
She grasped his hand with her own. Steeling her stomach. This is Kal. If he turned out like this, his parents aren’t likely to be monsters. “I’ll do it. Can’t be scarier than running from a wyrm, right?”
He grinned before ruffling her hair and seizing her in another kiss. During the kiss, Anya forgot how to breathe. He looped his arms around her waist and pulled her up with him until her feet left the ground.
“Hey,” she gasped, the sound vibrating on Kalgrin’s lips. “Put me down.”
In response, Kalgrin lifted her higher, pretending not to hear. She flailed her legs and he grinned, holding her at arm’s length before him.
“Look at you. Small thing.”
“I’m not that small,” Anya grumbled. She wasn’t – she hit about average height with other women. Kalgrin wasn’t even that tall, either. He just wanted to show off his strength. Anya punched the air ineffectually.
“Oh, what fun we’ll have together…” Kalgrin purred, giving her a rather sultry gaze, gray eyes darkening in lust.
Anya twitched a smirk of her own.
That seemed to be the trigger, for Kalgrin hugged her close and dashed towards the bedroom, the tomato soup apparently forgotten. Clothes found their way to the floor fast, and their naked bodies entwined with one another as they lost their minds to the moment.
Anya wanted so much more of this. Her body had a lot of catching up to do, sure, but now that she knew for certain that Kalgrin desired her, and she desired him back, she needed to make up for lost time.
She arched her body, shivering as he glided into her, his length hitting her sweet spot, over and over. She gasped and moaned, and his hands seemed to be everywhere. Touching her cheeks, neck, breasts, hot and leaving a ghostly trail in her mind. She imagined all her skin that had been touched by his hands to glow a different color.
His mouth grasped her neck, licking and sucking hard, until a dull throb spread across it, next to where her pulse beat madly. Marking her. Those gasps of pleasure kept eliciting themselves out, and she wanted him to never stop.
Not just to feel his body moving over hers, to see those eyes dark and glazed, to see that smile upon his face or to hear those soft grunts of pleasure. She wanted him to never stop loving her.
Maybe a tall order, but she clutched him as if he were a life raft. In a way, he was. The one who pulled her out of that dark sea, before it swallowed her below water and snaked into her lungs.
The one who brought her the keys of freedom, allowed her siblings to be named early, and wanted her with all his heart.
The orgasm hit her hard, spreading a heated path through her veins, sinking her into bliss. Her contractions caused him to orgasm with her as well, and they lay side by side.