“Mom, you look great, but you didn’t have to get all dressed up for us,” Avery said. “We thought this was casual.” She gestured to her own jeans and lightweight Christmas sweater.
Clarissa smiled politely and zeroed in on Sarah’s left hand. “That ring is gorgeous. Is that new?”
Everyone stopped. Raven stared at the diamond on her mother’s finger. “No…”
“Yes!” Sarah squealed. “David, come in here.”
Raven’s mouth dropped open as her father stepped into the door of the kitchen, wearing a suit and tie. She didn’t miss the fact that his hair was gelled.
David smiled nervously at everyone. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
Avery made a sound like a cough. “What cat? What bag? Why is Dad here? You didn’t say anything about Dad coming to Christmas. I didn’t even know you were speaking to each other.”
Sarah shrugged. “We got back together. He lives here now.”
“You what?” Raven couldn’t believe her ears.
“Maybe we should go into the living room and have a drink,” Sarah suggested.
“Congratulations!” Clarissa looked positively uncomfortable, and Raven and Avery pinned her with a barbed stare. Up until a few months ago, she hadn’t known Sarah was her biological mother and, as the newest member of the family, still didn’t fully appreciate the family dynamic. Raven’s father had abandoned and divorced her mother when Raven was on her deathbed and had proved himself a selfish ass time and time again.
“No.” Avery shook her head at their sister, her voice low.
Sarah folded her arms. “Avery Lynn Tanglewood, did you just tell Clarissa not to wish us congratulations? I’d say congratulations are perfectly in order. We’re getting remarried.”
Avery tossed up her hands. “What? Mom, how could this happen?”
Raven glanced at Gabriel, who stood positively still, Charlie sleeping in his arms. “Maybe Mom’s right. Maybe we should go into the living room and have a drink. I need a drink. I think we all need a drink.”
“It’s really not that surprising,” her mom continued. “You three were gone. David and I spent more and more time together. The pressure was off. One thing led to another.”
Avery scowled. “Eww.”
“Eww?” David said, wagging his finger at her. “Eww? That eww once led to all of you!”
Clarissa tucked her hair behind her ears. “Speaking of… um, nice to meet you, by the way.”
Sarah froze. “Oh my god, that’s right! You two have never actually met, I mean, as adults. Oh my god. We’ve gone about this all out of order.”
Clarissa and David stared at each other, each jerking forward as if they were trying to decide if it was appropriate for them to hug. David smoothed his tie. “It’s such a privilege to finally meet you.”
The two laughed awkwardly and hugged each other.
“Did someone mention a drink?” Avery grumbled.
Raven sighed. “These gifts weigh a ton.” She set the stack down on the table.
Sarah did a double take. “Why aren’t you pregnant anymore?”
The room grew quiet. Sarah’s eyes darted from Raven to Avery to Clarissa and then finally to Gabriel and the bundle in his arms.
“Wait, is that…?” Sarah pointed at the red plaid burrito.
“That can’t be our grandchild,” David said.
Gabriel loosened his grip and gently rolled Charlie to expose her sleeping face.
Sarah approached tentatively, her features betraying her confusion. “But…”
Raven could practically hear her mother’s mental calculator working. Sarah reached out and brushed a finger across Charlie’s cheek.
“Mom—” Raven raised both hands as Charlie’s eyes popped open and she took one look at her grandmother, burst from her blanket, and flew around the room, through the grasping hands of Avery, Clarissa, and Gabriel, before landing in a squat on top of the refrigerator. Her red velvet Christmas dress bunched over her bare toes.
Sarah looked at David and then back at Charlie. She pointed, then pressed the finger to her lips.
“Charlie, stay there!” Raven held out a hand to her daughter. “Mom, I can explain.”
“Oh shit, she’s going over!” David rushed forward and caught Sarah before she could hit the floor.
Chapter Twelve
Asfolk Palace
Rogos
Colin’s room in Asfolk Palace faced west, giving him a fabulous view of the setting suns as twilight enveloped Rogos. He smoothed the lapels of the suit he’d been given to wear, a black-and-white affair that was more formal than he was used to and a little tight in the shoulders. Tonight, he’d wear a burlap sack if Niall asked him to.
He needed Rogos to align with the Defenders of the Goddess against Paragon, and he hoped this recent engagement meant an end to Rogos’s neutrality. Darnuith, after all, had never been neutral; their tentative peace with Paragon had been fraught with tension and political positioning. That said, Queen Penelope had avoided an alliance with the Defenders of the Goddess with as much passion as she’d evaded a close relationship with Eleanor. It was well known she didn’t trust dragons. It didn’t matter which side they were on.
The match between Niall and Penelope made him uneasy. Was it a political marriage, or was romance involved? Only a fool would underestimate the power and influence of the witch queen of Darnuith. As much as he appreciated that Rogos might benefit from an alliance between the two kingdoms, it had to be a bit like grabbing a tiger by the tail.
A knock came on the door. “High Lord Niall requests your presence in the ballroom,” a male’s voice announced.
Colin slid his feet into his shoes and opened the door. The elf on the other side was elderly and small—his head only reached Colin’s bottom rib, and his pointed ears bent at the tips.
“Hello again, Grindel.”
The little elf bowed. “If you’ll please follow me.”
Colin allowed Grindel to escort him to the ballroom and then to what appeared to be a staging area near the front of the immense hall. But when he passed through the door Grindel indicated, Colin pulled up short. It wasn’t Niall waiting for him inside but Queen Penelope, and she was alone.
“Apologies,” Colin murmured, backing toward the door. “The elf who brought me here said I was to meet Niall. He must have put me in the wrong room.” He reached for the door handle, but with the sweep of one hand, he heard the door lock before he could open it.
“He told you what I asked him to tell you.” The queen’s voice was warm and melodious. Instantly, he wanted to gather her in his arms and give her a friendly hug as if she were a long-lost acquaintance. He was resistant to her magic but not immune to it and felt himself relaxing under her influence.
“Why did you want to see me?” He leaned his back against the door, keeping as much space as possible between them. Relaxed as her magic might make him, there was no mistaking he was in a dangerous situation. Simply being alone with her in this room could cause a diplomatic mess with Niall, and he’d be a fool to trust her after the way she’d lured him there.
Her icy blue eyes locked on to his, and her wide mouth spread into a smile. “I heard something interesting recently from a mutual friend of ours, and I thought you’d be the best one to confirm the rumor.”
The scent of honey filled the room. Colin had the distinct impression that the air was wrapping around him like a cozy blanket. She was just so nice. He hadn’t remembered what a kind and welcoming person the queen was. He shook his head to clear it. “Which friend? Which rumor?”
“Zander Wraithwing says that you have the three sisters and they may have one of Darnuith’s most precious but missing historical artifacts, the golden grimoire.”
“There is a golden grimoire, but it isn’t Darnuith’s. It was left to the three sisters by their ancestor Medea.” Colin shook his head again, fighting the fog that kept clogging up his thoughts. He had to concentrate to think.
&nbs
p; Penelope’s smile grew wider. “Exactly. I knew you’d understand. An honorable dragon like you was sure to see the truth of it. Medea was our queen, and the three sisters are witches and her descendants. Therefore, by law, citizens of Darnuith. When Medea left the grimoire to them, she was leaving it to us.”
“I don’t think… I, uh, I’ll have to talk to Raven. Truth is, we haven’t even found it yet.” The room grew hot. He tugged at the collar of his shirt.
She giggled and shrugged in the most charming way. It made him smile. “A clever man like you must have some idea where it is.”
He blinked rapidly against a shimmer that surrounded her like an aura. “It’s here,” he said. “Somewhere, locked in a grave in Rogos. We have a crypt key, but we need the three sisters to translate the sacred scroll to know which tomb it fits.”
“The scribe was helping you, wasn’t she?”
“Leena helped me find the scroll and was curating it while the three sisters attempted to break the enchantment over it.”
“So why are you back here?” Her voice rang like a bell, and her warm smile never faltered.
“Leena wanted to go home. She was… afraid of how the greater world was changing her. I was escorting her back to the temple.”
“Hmm. But you need her?”
“In more ways than one,” he said softly.
Penelope rubbed her fingers lightly over her left collarbone, above the neckline of her dress. “You will find the grimoire, Colin. I just know you will. And when you do, you’ll bring it to me.”
“I, uh…” He couldn’t make any promises, but he couldn’t think of the words to tell her so.
“There then, it’s all settled.” She patted his arm, and he wondered when she’d crossed the room. “I’m so glad we had this talk.”
She stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek. His eyebrows shot up, and he smiled after her as she opened the door and floated from the room.
Only after she was gone did a fresh waft of air come through the door and clear his head. He frowned. Had he just promised her the grimoire? No. No, he hadn’t. But she’d wanted him to. She’d used her magic, hoping the influence would hold, consciously or unconsciously.
Even though it hadn’t completely worked, he hated how much he wanted to give her the grimoire right then. He could just imagine how it would make her smile. He stepped out of the staging room, shaking off the last remnants of the interaction and knowing one thing for certain—there was more than one reason Queen Penelope was interested in the Defenders of the Goddess, and all of them needed to be very careful around her.
He accepted a bubbly yellow drink in a tall glass from a passing server and watched the ballroom fill fast with people from all over Rogos, everyone dressed in their finest. Colin recognized Quanling Marjory, dressed in a yellow gown that made her skin look sallow. He wondered if that was a purposeful compromise. The scribe leader couldn’t wear her robes at the function, but she could wear a dress that made her look just as pious.
Colin scanned the crowd for Niall. If he could speak to the high lord again, if only for a few minutes, he could ask about Darnuith and how he’d met Queen Penelope. Working with the two kingdoms would require a gentle hand, but they’d all have to be in lockstep if they were to overcome Paragon’s dragons.
If Niall was among the crowd, though, Colin didn’t notice because before he could find the high lord of the elves, his gaze locked on to a vision in midnight blue floating into the room. Leena. Her dark copper hair had been freed from its usual braid and lay in soft curls that rested on bare shoulders, fire against ice. Her dress was strapless and hugged her figure, skimming her legs to her ankles and parting over her left knee when she walked. From her fingers, a matching satchel dangled, large enough to hold the scrolls she swore she never left behind. It made him smile to think of her dedication even while the sight of her silky, pale skin made his dragon coil and chuff within him. He scratched his arms through his suit to distract from the prickle of his heated blood.
Leena’s violet eyes met his, her inner light making them violently purple, as bright as the lamps burning on the walls. Only, as soon as she saw him, her smile faded. He tried not to take it personally. Had he spent less time with her, he might have thought she hated him. But that wasn’t hate he saw in her expression—it was fear. She wanted to hate him. It would make things far easier for her. Bastard that he was, he wouldn’t let that happen.
He started for her, cutting through the crowd of faceless guests, unable to see anyone but her. Her gaze darted around the room, looking for a lifeline, anything to avoid facing him again. One more night. Tomorrow, she’d leave with her Quanling, her replacement would be assigned, and he likely wouldn’t ever see her again.
One more night to feel the temptation she’d made it clear to him she wanted to avoid.
One more night to change her mind and win her over.
Turned out his dragon was okay with being a bastard.
“You look stunning,” he said when he finally reached her.
Her eyes flicked down to her toes. “I’d rather be in my robes, and I can’t walk in these shoes, but I’m told this is expected of me.”
He frowned. He hated the idea that her upbringing had made it so she couldn’t even enjoy one night of glitz and glamour. She’d always feel like she should be wrapped in burlap even when she was clearly a queen. “Well, we all have to do what is expected of us. I guess the dress is just one more worldly experience you can leave behind when you’re back at the temple.”
She smoothed a hand over the already smooth material at her waist. “Yes. It shouldn’t be long now. Actually, I should try to find my Quanling. I’m sure Marjory will be happy to escort me home and name my replacement.”
The thought burrowed into his heart, where it condensed into a heavy weight that threatened to make the floor cave in. “Are you sure you’re ready? Have you… sampled enough of life to quell your curiosity?”
Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink, and her gaze swept toward her shoes. “There is one thing I’m curious about.”
“Oh?”
She looked both ways, cheeks blazing.
“This way.” He gestured to a door that led outside to the balcony. They stepped into the cool night air, and he tugged her out of view of the ballroom, behind a marble pillar and against the outer wall of the palace. “There’s no one out here.”
“Because it’s freezing!” She shivered and hugged herself.
He stepped closer, extending his wings and wrapping them around her. “Better?”
Close now, within his shelter, those violet eyes turned stormy. “Better.”
“So, what is it you’re curious about?”
Her eyes flicked away from his. “What you did to me in the tent, it seemed… one-sided… Like there should be more.”
Heat rose with other more interesting parts of his body as he remembered that morning. “You’re right. There is more. Much more.”
“Tell me.” And just like that, the bashful scribe was gone, and the twinkling eyes and impish grin of the woman he’d first kissed on the beach were back.
“Well…” How to say this without scaring her away? “What I did to you, usually a woman would… reciprocate.”
Her lips parted. “I was supposed to do the same to you?”
“No. You don’t have to. There’s no obligation between lovers.” Now it was his turn to look away, his inner dragon chuffing for her touch.
“But you left the tent so quickly.”
“I didn’t want to show you more than you were ready for. I wasn’t sure how much you wanted to… sample.”
She sighed. “With you, Colin, I find every bite I take just leads me to want another.”
“Maybe that means you need a steady diet.” He leaned forward. Her mouth was so close her chin tipped up within the shelter of his wings. He stopped when she shook her head, a tear forming in the corner of her eye.
“That’s exactly why
I have to go.” She backed up, breaking from his wings and heading for the door, her skin forming goose bumps in the cold.
“Leena…”
She patted the bag at her hip. “I’ve got to get inside. It’s my job to record this big announcement for posterity.”
“You’re a good scribe.”
She nodded.
“What about your idea to search for the grave using the year the scroll was created?”
“It will be the first thing I suggest to my replacement to pursue.”
“I’d prefer you. You’re familiar with the history.”
“It will not be me.” She smiled and sighed. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“Was it my dancing?” He flashed her a crooked grin.
For a moment, she blinked at him. “I am sorry about that. The snail venom has an inebriating effect.”
He shrugged. “I loved every minute of it. I’ve never seen such joy on your face.”
She dropped her chin and stared down at her tangled fingers, her cheeks blazing again. “Yes, you have, just this morning.” She pivoted away from him, leaving him dumb struck, and stepped through the doors into the crowd.
Chapter Thirteen
Leena’s heart thumped in her chest as she strode aimlessly away from Colin and the balcony. She had to get back to the temple. He was too much of a temptation, becoming too precious to her. Already, she wondered how she would find the strength within herself to let him go.
And it was sinful what she was doing. Using him. Experimenting on him. How embarrassing to learn that she’d been so overwhelmed by the experience he’d given her in the tent that she hadn’t thought to find out how he liked to be touched. She wondered now what that thick hardness he’d pressed against her belly would feel like in her hand. Why had she never thought to research male anatomy in the temple library? Why hadn’t she read about sex?
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