The Flame King’s Queen (Fire and Desire #3)

Chapter 8

8

Isavelle

“ A re you certain that it’s safe for us? We do not possess dragon blood as you do, Isavelle.”

Dad hesitates on the bridge to the dragongrounds, gazing at the several dozen enormous bodies in the golden morning light. Anise is more eager, bouncing on her toes at the end of the bridge, her hands clasped together in excitement. I thought I would have had time to visit the dragons, but there was so much work to do making the villagers comfortable in the castle and planning their return to their homes.

Fiala and Dusan are with us, both dressed in their wingrunner uniforms and holding their halberds. There has been no sign of traitors within the castle. No sightings of Elysant that didn’t prove to be rumors or mistakes. There aren’t even any anti-witch posters appearing around the city.

Everything feels strangely calm.

The hour is so early that many of the dragons haven’t yet risen and stretched their wings. Others are play fighting, their jaws stretched wide as they mouth at each other and send clouds of dust into the sky. I left Zabriel sleeping deeply in our bed. The process of healing so rapidly from his injuries has exhausted him, and he has been asleep for more hours than he’s been awake.

“They are safe for everyone from Maledin, whether you possess Maledinni blood or not. The flare protects us all,” I explain.

Anise smiles. “The flare. What a lovely name for a group of dragons. May we draw closer to them?”

“A little closer,” I tell her, “but we must keep to the edges of the dragongrounds and allow them to approach us. The dragons are not pets or livestock, and this is their territory.”

On the other side of the bridge, we stand on the dragongrounds and observe the flare for some time. I notice Esmeral lying against Scourge’s heated bulk, her eyes drowsy in the morning light, and call out to her with my mind.

Esmeral?

My dragon opens her eyes and looks around. When she sees us, she shoots to her feet and hurries over, making pleased chirruping noises. She turns in an excited circle before buffeting her head against my shoulder.

Dad gives a fearful intake of breath, but Dusan puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and explains, “Don’t worry. Esmeral wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Unless you’re a mean yellow Alpha dragon,” Fiala replies with satisfaction. “Then this little dragon will rip you apart.”

Fiala explains to my wide-eyed sister how Esmeral and I grounded Auryn and his rider when they attacked the flare, which results in a dozen more questions about Kane, Auryn, the wild flare, and eventually Ravenna. I listen in on their conversation as I make a fuss of Esmeral, stroking her scales and hugging her around the neck.

Clever dragon who saved my mate’s life. Clever, beautiful, strong dragon.

Anise’s eyes are huge. “A witchfinder with a dragon? He has his own flare? And he’s in love with a witch ?”

“Love is not what we’d call it,” Dusan says, “but she’s certainly got under his skin and into his kn—” Fiala elbows him in the stomach before he can say knot to my fourteen-year-old sister.

I move forward to greet Scourge, who is pacing slowly toward us, and I press my hand against his hot scales.

Nilak watches us from a distance, her proud white head raised high above the other dragons. There are a handful of fledglings milling below her, none of them hers, but they have been drawn to the Alpha female of the flare. Two of them are curious and creep closer to Anise, pressing their snouts into her hand in greeting before running back to Nilak with excited squawks.

I rest my arms around Esmeral’s neck and smile up at her. “Are you going to have little baby dragons soon?” I ask out loud, and then picture half a dozen black and turquoise fledglings cavorting around her and send it to her as a question.

Esmeral rustles her wings in surprise. She looks from Scourge to me, and there’s an excited, hopeful feeling emanating from her. My dragon doesn’t know. Scourge holds his big head proudly aloft, red eyes half closed in the morning light, two ribbons of smoke curling from his nostrils.

“Scourge?” I call. “Will you be a father soon?”

The enormous dragon blinks slowly. If the flare’s Alpha knows anything, he’s not telling.

“Where are all the silvery dragons that have wings on their front legs?” Anise asks. “I can’t see any among the flare.”

“Those are wyverns, Lady Anise,” Fiala tells her. “They prefer their eyrie on the other side of the castle, but I can summon my mount if you wish to see one up close.”

Fiala sticks a finger at each corner of her lips and lets out an ear-piercing whistle. A moment later, we see a dark spot in the sky, gradually becoming larger as it approaches. A wyvern is a lean, silvery creature whose wings extend from its front legs rather than its back, like a dragon. As Kagin settles onto the ground, his wings fold back against his shoulders, and he examines us all with a piercing glare. Even with his mouth closed, sharp teeth extend upward and downward from his jaw. Wyverns impress me, but they unsettle me as well. I can never tell what they’re thinking.

“Can anyone ride a wyvern, or is it only Maledinni?”

Fiala and Dusan exchange puzzled looks. Dusan says, “We don’t know, my lady. No one’s ever wanted to before.”

“But they’re so majestic . Beautiful, even.” Anise’s expression is enraptured, like a small child gazing at an adorable pony with a flowing mane and tail.

Fiala beams at her. “They are, aren’t they?”

Dad doesn’t seem keen on the idea of getting close to a dragon or a wyvern, but after Anise encourages him, he gives Kagin a firm pat on his flank, like one would an ox plow. “Sturdy fellow.”

Anise’s eyes widen at a sight behind me. “Ah, Isavelle. That man, the king, he’s—”

Anise must be mistaking Zabriel for someone else, though I can’t imagine who, as there’s no one like Zabriel. Zabriel is in bed with his injuries.

But as I turn to look over my shoulder, I see that my mate is indeed walking toward us across the bridge to the dragongrounds in long, uneven strides that favor his injured side. His red eyes are blazing, his feet are bare, and the silky robe he wears is falling off one shoulder.

“Zabriel, is everything all right?” Sweat has broken out across his chest and his eyes are very red.

“ Sha’lenla .” My mate doesn’t seem to notice that we’re not alone. Despite his injuries, Zabriel hooks his left arm around me and lifts me smoothly up and against his chest. He covers my mouth with his in a kiss that steals my breath. He speaks the endearment over and over again between kisses. To my surprise, the powerful scent of a rut is rising from his body.

“How are you in a rut? I’m not in heat,” I whisper. I had the vague idea that Zabriel’s mating cycles and mine would be synchronous from now on, and seeing as I’m pregnant, I can’t go into heat, and neither would he rut.

Zabriel replies by growling and sinking his teeth into my shoulder. His dragines pinch my flesh, and the sensation sends a delicious wave of heat through my body.

Releasing me, he says to Dad and Anise, “I apologize for intruding. I hope you are comfortable in my castle.”

“I… Yes, we are, Your Majesty. Thank you for your hospitality,” Dad says.

My family is staring at Zabriel in shock, and I see him through their eyes. A massive man with scorching red eyes, his long black hair loose and flying in the wind, barefoot and wearing just a robe. He’s holding me in his arms and biting me. No wonder they are at a loss for words.

Anise is staring up at him with an open mouth. “Do you have fangs? ”

“Anise,” Dad admonishes in an undertone. “This is your king.”

Zabriel smiles at her, showing off his elongated dragines. “I possess dragon’s teeth. That dragon’s teeth.” He nods at Scourge. “I will return Isavelle to you soon. Excuse us.”

Then he turns around and carries me away with him. Dad and Anise stare after us. I want them to love Zabriel as much as I love him, but so far, I don’t think my mate has made the best impression on them. First he appeared out of nowhere, covered in blood, and killed a man, and now he’s dragging me away from them in a fever of desire.

As soon as Zabriel gets us inside our bedroom, he presses me up against the door and kisses me hard, and all other thoughts flee from my mind.

I’ll worry about my family later.

“I still don’t understand how you’re in a rut,” I gasp as he kisses my throat and nips it with his teeth.

“I must fuck you to make the baby stronger.”

My eyes widen. “You must what?”

“How will our baby grow strong if I don’t rut you many times while you’re pregnant?”

“The baby will grow strong while I eat nourishing food, of course.”

“Is that not what your kind do? Human men are so careless.” He carries me over to the bed, drops me onto it, and shrugs out of his robe. I’m treated to the sight of my mate’s bandaged chest, the erect shaft of his cock, and his swollen knot. “That is your duty, to eat good food, and this is mine.”

“You need only say that you want me,” I say with a smile, and pull him down to me so I can kiss him. “You know I won’t deny you anything. There is no need for this story, unless it’s part of your culture.”

Zabriel’s brow creases in confusion. “Story? What story? This is very real. Human men don’t do this for their mates?”

“You mean you’re serious?”

“I would not joke about our baby’s health and strength. Ask the Hratha’len about it if you like. Why would Alphas rut while their mate is pregnant if it wasn’t good for the baby?” He takes my hand and wraps it around his knot.

The rich scent of his musk fills my nose and makes me dizzy with desire. “Well, I—”

Zabriel kisses me again, and I forget what I was going to say. If this is good for the baby, why not?

“ Sha’lenla , the scent of you pregnant is driving me wild.” He sinks his teeth into my shoulder and mutters, “By the gods, my aching teeth.”

My slick is enthusiastically drenching my clothes in anticipation of his knot. His erection is bulging as he strips me bare, and his knot is aggressively swollen.

Without even thinking about it. I moan, roll over onto my stomach, and lift my hips up into the air. It’s pure instinct when he smells like this.

Zabriel leans forward and drags his tongue up my sex, tasting my slick and working my clit. With my cheek on my bed and looking beneath me, I can see him pumping his cock in his fist.

“Please, Alpha,” I whimper.

Zabriel freezes, and immediately sits up and drags the head of his cock along my sex. “You know I lose my mind when you beg me like that. Do you need me, Omega?”

He doesn’t give me more than a second to answer. “Always— ah .” He thrusts into me, filling me with sharp, hot pleasure.

I clench the blankets in my fingers and let my body arch as he pumps into me, deeper and deeper with every thrust. My slick runs down my inner thighs and our mating makes wet sounds that fill the air.

“I love the sound your pussy makes when I fuck you, Omega. Look at all this slick when you’re not even in heat. Such a good girl.”

It’s a special kind of sweetness being told good girl for something that feels amazing. I’m nearing my peak when Zabriel shifts his body over mine, his mouth seeking the back of my neck. The first time I was in heat and he was in his rut, he sank his dragines so deep into my mating gland at the back of my neck that he drew blood and left permanent, silvery scars. I treasure those marks, and Zabriel bites me afresh whenever he’s in a rut.

Zabriel wraps both arms around me and lifts me up off the bed, pulling me down onto his cock. His knot is thudding wetly against my entrance. I can feel myself give around him as his thrusts grow faster and more frenzied. The pleasure ratchets up, and I climax right before his knot pushes inside me and swells. I can feel myself spasming around his knot, which is jammed tight inside me, moving just a little back and forth as Zabriel pumps his seed into me.

His teeth seek my nape, and he bites down hard on my mating gland, claiming me. Reaffirming that I am his and he is mine.

In the stillness that follows, we’re both panting and sweaty. He holds me tight against him, my back to his chest, and I can feel his heart thundering. Over my shoulder, I see him wince as he lowers me onto the bed. Such energetic mating has caused him pain, but I have no doubt that he didn’t feel anything but pleasure throughout. Even if he did, he’d be too stubborn and aroused to stop.

Zabriel’s knot feels huge inside me. I’m stuck fast to my mate, and I will be here for some time. As we lower ourselves onto the bed together, he kisses me over and over again. His thumb strokes up my belly, pressing until he feels the swell of his knot inside me.

I lay with my head on his ample shoulder, smiling dreamily.

“I didn’t think I would ever know such happiness,” Zabriel murmurs. He’s covered in injuries, but nothing can mask the beauty of his smile.

I stroke my fingers along his strong arms. “Neither did I. It’s wonderful to be back in this room with my mate.”

I want to hope or wish or pray that I will never see my mate injured again, but I think it will be futile. We still haven’t defeated Emmeric, and Zabriel is a king who leads from the front, walking through blood and fire to protect his people.

“I will fuck you again soon. Give me just a moment.” His voice is drowsy, which is strange considering he’s in a rut. I turn my head and look over my shoulder. His eyes are heavy-lidded and there are smudges of purple beneath them. It seems that the healing potions and broken bones have exhausted him. His knot no longer feels huge inside me, and when I give an experimental wriggle, it eases out.

Zabriel’s eyes close, and it’s not long before he snores.

My mate needs his rest if he’s to recover quickly. I extricate myself from his arms, clean myself up, tidy my hair, and get dressed in clean clothes. Before I leave the room, I cover him with a blanket and press a kiss to his lips. “I will be back in a few hours. Rest easily,” I whisper.

If I don’t come back on my own, I’m sure his rut will propel him from this room in search of me.

Fiala and Dusan are waiting outside the door, and they tell me that my family returned from the dragongrounds and are with the villagers in the Great Hall.

I find Dad, and we take a walk through the adjoining courtyard together. He seems a little lost for words.

“Is your husband unwell?” Dad asks eventually.

“He’s well, thank you. The fever that gripped him is due to his Maledinni nature. It comes in cycles.” I can feel myself turning red as I talk around what a rut is without actually naming its purpose.

Dad frowns. “If this is normal for Maledinni, then I wonder how they managed to recapture the country, even with dragons.”

I laugh, but then realize that I’m laughing alone, and Dad is being serious. “Zabriel is a strong and steady ruler. He puts a great deal of planning into everything he does.”

We keep walking along the courtyard in silence, but it is not an easy silence.

Finally, Dad says, “I have heard soldiers talk of an assault on the Shadow King. Is this a battle that your husband will lead?”

“Of course. He always leads his army into battle.”

Dad has spent too long under the Brethren to risk speaking out of turn against those in power, and so he chooses his words carefully. “The Shadow King ruled Maledin for a long time. He won’t give up easily. I am worried for you, Isavelle.”

“Thank you for your concern. I know you feel it out of love for me, but there is no one I would trust more to free Maledin from the Shadow King than Zabriel.”

“I hope that you are right, and he doesn’t put you in danger.”

It is a mild statement, but the implication that Zabriel is reckless doesn’t pass me by. The harder I argue for my mate, the less Dad will be convinced. Zabriel will prove himself to be the kind and thoughtful ruler I know him to be soon enough, but all the same, the conversation has made me sad. I wish my family knew Zabriel the way I knew him.