Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
H ours passed, and still Drake could feel Creslyn’s anger radiating from her.
They sat atop Svartos as the dragon glided through the midnight sky, yet she refused to lean against Drake’s chest as she so often did when they were flying. Her back was straight, her body stiff and stoney. Though she’d forgiven him, there was an underlying current of crossness pulling tight along the bond between them.
Worse, however, was the scent of the air.
Drake inhaled deeply, breathing in the smell of rain and heavy storm clouds. The glow of the moon had vanished, disappearing behind a swath of blanketed darkness. Lightning splintered across the sky, piercing through the pitch in a vicious pattern. Thunder cracked, the sound of it so loud it caused his ears to ring. Creslyn jumped, then lurched backward, curling into him, and the rush of her unease flooded him. He wrapped one arm snugly around her waist, gripping the reins tightly with his free hand as icy rain began to pour from the black heavens.
It soaked them thoroughly in seconds, slashing against them with such force that Svartos loosed a screech and pulled back, slowing his speed. He tucked his wings, swooping lower, dodging masses of clouds and avoiding the strikes of lightning that shattered the night.
“This is quite the storm,” Creslyn called over the howling wind, and it carried her words away from him. She shivered, tucking herself closer into his body. “Are we going to fly through it?”
“Not if I can help it.” He scanned the earth below, but it was impossible to see anything. Between the blinding flashes of lightning and the intense rainfall, his visibility was slim. “It will be safer if we can land and find somewhere to wait it out.”
Landing Svartos in this wretched weather would be another feat entirely.
The dragon had a keen sense of sight, but he also fell under Drake’s command. It would be up to him to guide them to a place where Svartos could land without too much trouble, preferably somewhere without trees but large enough for them to seek shelter from the storm.
Drake gritted his teeth together until his jaw ached. He clenched the reins and tugged, steering the dragon lower.
If only he could fucking see.
Without warning, beams of brilliant light flowed from Creslyn’s hands. She shot them downward like rippling waterfalls, illuminating the ground below. Sunlight cut through the dense clouds and pelting rain, bouncing off a thick grove of trees and a desolate mountain range. Land, thankfully, that was familiar to Drake.
They were flying along Brackroth’s most northern border, an uninhabited stretch of the kingdom littered with rugged mountains and impassable valleys. There were a few caves nestled into the side of some of the higher peaks. Many of the witches from the Runes of Callievan sought refuge there in the early days of Marius’s assault against them. They’d been long since abandoned, the king’s army sniffing the witches out like hunting dogs on the prowl.
Creslyn’s magic coated one of the ledges in light. The small gray cliff jutted out over the tops of the trees, its surface covered in small rocks and boulders. But just beyond it was a darkened entrance of nothingness.
A cave.
The ledge was barely large enough for Svartos to land. It would be a tricky maneuver. One wrong move—if his wings hit the mountain face or his claws grasped only loose rocks—they would go right over the other side. Drake aimed for the ledge, sensing the dragon’s hesitance. His wings stretched wide in long, slow beats, bringing them closer to the mountains.
Stiff gales knocked them slightly sideways, but Drake maintained his grip on the reins. Strong and steady. But there was something else, a soft murmuring, barely audible over the deafening roar of the wind. Through its mighty call, Creslyn’s gentle voice reached him. She bent forward, wet hair falling around her, sticking to her face and neck. Sunbeams burst from one hand while she ran the other along Svartos’s gleaming scales, soothing the dragon.
Drake’s heart strained for her.
Guilt riddled his conscience once more. He did not deserve her. No one did. She was far too wonderful for this world.
Svartos swept down, tucking his wings, and Drake gripped Creslyn tightly as the dragon touched the ground, his claws scraping against stone as he grappled for purchase. He let out another screech, his body pitching forward then rearing back as he came to an abrupt halt on the rain-soaked ledge. Creslyn fell back against Drake, her head smacking against his shoulder, and she hissed in pain as her magic snuffed out.
“Are you alright, kearsta ?” Drake attempted to lift her into his arms, but she swatted his hands away.
“Fine.” She shoved her drenched hair from her face and huffed out a breath. “I’ll be fine.”
Drake jumped out of the seat on Svarto’s back, turning to help her, but she was already climbing down on her own, those legs of hers dangling like they had the first time he’d left her to get out of the dragon’s seat by herself.
The memory scorned him.
He should have taken more care with her.
Drake blinked, shrugging off the burn of shame as she touched the ground. He moved past her, grabbing the pack of supplies strapped to Svartos’s back.
“There.” He nodded toward the abysmal looking cavity on the side of the mountain. “We can seek shelter here until the storm passes.”
“A cave.” She stared into the penetrating darkness, glancing back at him, her full mouth pressed into a hard line. “We’re going to sleep in a cave?”
He arched one brow. “Do you have a better idea?”
Drake tossed the pack over his shoulder and marched into the cave’s entrance. It was small, more so than he anticipated, but at least it was dry. He unloaded a bundle of kindling, a thick blanket, some food, and two fur cloaks. There wasn’t much else, just enough for one night of travel. He rolled out the blanket then set to work on situating the kindling for a fire, only to realize that Creslyn wasn’t with him.
Looking back at the opening of the cave, he caught sight of her silhouette. She stood there, shivering in the rain, refusing to move.
“Creslyn, come in here and get out of the weather.” It was one thing for her to still be pissed at him, it was quite another for her to be so stubborn that she’d rather catch a cold than share the same space as him.
“But it’s dark. I can’t see anything.” She raised one arm blindly. “I can’t even see you.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Last I checked, you were more than capable of creating light.”
She held out both arms, and Drake watched as sparks of sunlight flickered, then faded like dying embers. “I have nothing left. I’ve not ever used that much of my power before. My magic is not an endless supply, unlike yours. I’m tired, Drake.”
Weariness pained her voice.
Drake abandoned the pile of kindling and went to her side. Sliding one arm around her waist, he walked her to the far side of the cave, then whispered, “ Fierys .”
Svartos rose, angling his long neck, his yellow eyes latching onto Creslyn before he faced the cave. He opened his mighty jaws and flames erupted, catching fire to the stack of twigs and branches in the center of the mountain’s mouth. Heat blazed to life, engulfing the whole of the cave, casting light upon the hollowed space made of carved rock and uneven stone.
The dragon’s nostrils flared, and he pulled his wings in close, curling up outside of the cave, effectively barricading them, protecting them, on the inside.
Creslyn’s wide-eyed gaze slid from the dragon to the fire, then back again. “I’ve never seen…how did he?—”
“I’ll teach you.” Drake stalked closer to the glowing fire, tugging off his gloves. “But first, remove your leathers, kearsta.”
Her awe was instantly replaced by a scowl.
“Fine.” He shrugged, removing his vest and tossing it to the ground. He continued to discard various pieces of clothing, watching as her gaze tracked over the length of his body and color bloomed in her cheeks. “If you wish to be cold and soaked to the bone, that is your choice.”
Drake grabbed one of the fur cloaks and fastened it around him, ignoring her as he quietly prepared them something to eat. There were a few strips of dried, spiced meat, a ripe pear, a red plum, and a flask of water. He debated asking her if she’d rather have the pear or the plum, then thought better of it when her disgruntled mutterings reached his ears.
Removing soaked leathers could be quite the task, and since she’d yet to ask for his help, he continued to busy himself as she struggled to undress. He didn’t watch, knowing that would likely further incite her anger, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as she mumbled off a swear foul enough to make a grown man cringe. He listened as the wet leather slid and slapped against her skin, biting back a smile each time she hissed in frustration.
When the crackling of the fire was the only sound in the cave, Drake finally shoved up from his crouched position with an offering of food to hopefully appease her.
Creslyn sat upon the blanket, facing the fire, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her arms were wrapped around herself, her chin resting upon them, firelight reflecting in the depths of her sapphire eyes like the darkest part of the ocean set aflame.
“Are you still angry with me?” he ventured, setting some of the food beside her.
Her burning gaze darted up to him. “Yes.”
“Fair enough.” Drake grabbed the other fur cloak, this one a soft gray, and gently draped it around her bare body. “You should eat. I know it’s not much but?—”
“Thank you.” She snatched a piece of dried meat, tearing off a hefty chunk, and chewed quietly, her eyes once more trained upon the orange flames spitting into the cavernous ceiling.
They ate together in silence until Drake could no longer ignore the one question that had been plaguing him since they left the Fenmire Bogs. He bit into the plum, its refreshingly sweet flavor coating his tongue, and said, “Tell me, solysa. Why do you really want to return to Brackroth? I thought you would be eager to go home to Aeramere.”
She did not look at him. “I intend to kill King Marius.”
Drake almost choked. He slammed his fist into his chest, forcing down the bite of plum that had lodged itself in the back of his throat at her admission.
“Do not try to stop me.” She licked her thumb, popping it out of her mouth. “And do not stand in my way.”
“Creslyn,” he began, but she shifted abruptly, holding up one hand.
“No.” She sucked in a deep breath, the steady beat of her heart pounding through his veins. “I am going to make certain that no matter what, you are never forced to use the Shadowblade again.”
Drake shook his head, raking his hands through his damp hair. “After what I did to you, why would you want to help me?”
She rolled her eyes to the cave’s ceiling, releasing an annoyed sigh. “I am fairly certain you already know the answer to that ridiculous question.”
Right.
Because she still loved him, even after he betrayed her heart.
Creslyn eased back, lying upon the blanket on her side, the cloak falling open, exposing her fully. She tucked one hand beneath her head, watching him, calculating each breath he took. Her other arm fell lazily over her hips, her finger tracing slow circles along her upper thigh. The diamonds piercing her sparked with tiny rainbows, and the glow of the fire seemed to caress her skin. She was lush and warm, and though a slight frown crinkled her usually smooth brow, her nipples pebbled beneath the intensity of his gaze. He missed the feel of her satin flesh beneath his roughened palms, just as he missed the searing pain of her teeth when she marked him out of greedy lust.
Desire surged to his cock, pulsing through him with fervor.
Drake reached for her, and she swatted his hand away.
“You may look.” She raised her knee, taunting him while she spread her legs, her own fingers drifting dangerously close to the source of all her pleasure. “But you may not touch.”
He gritted his teeth, his fists clenching the plush blanket beneath them. “You intend to deny me indefinitely?”
“I intend to do as I please.” She shot a pointed look at where he strained for her. “And right now, I am thoroughly enjoying watching you ache for me.”
The wisps of shadows around his cock coiled tightly, squeezing, and he swallowed a groan. “Wicked little faerie.”
She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Another time, perhaps.”
“Will you not let me worship you?” He bit the words out.
Creslyn pinned him with a look of sheer boredom, as though she couldn’t be bothered with his inner turmoil. “You mentioned nothing of wanting to worship me.”
Drake snarled. “You know I do.”
“Could have fooled me.” She splayed her hand over her abdomen, her fingers daring to skim even lower than before. “Given your recent behavior, I would have thought infinite power was far more enticing than bejeweled breasts and the silky wetness between my thighs.”
Despite being torn between crushing need and mounting frustration, Drake’s lips twitched. “Such shocking words from a lady of Aeramere.”
She sat upright, and the gray fur of the cloak nearly swallowed her. “Do I disappoint you, Your Highness?”
“On the contrary.” His hand darted out, capturing her chin. An emotion flashed in her eyes, a tantalizing mesh of annoyance and longing, but she banked it quickly, replacing her expression with a mask of indifference. “I find you most enchanting.”
Creslyn snorted, throwing one arm out and gesturing to Svartos’s back. “It’s rather difficult to be enchanting when one is stuck on the side of a mountain in the middle of a thunderstorm. Ballrooms are enchanting, caves most certainly are not.”
Drake stood, his black fur cloak billowing around him. “You can’t hear the music?”
Her head canted to one side, and she arched a suspicious brow. “No…”
“Listen.”
The distant rumble of thunder was a dark melody. The whistling wind played the harmony, each howling gust another striking chord while the constant rainfall carried the notes of a lulling refrain.
He offered his hand to her. “May I have this dance, my lady?”
Reluctance gnawed at her, and the bond hummed with her uncertainty.
“I won’t bite,” he promised. “Yet.”
Creslyn pursed her lips, then accepted his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. He slid one arm around her bare waist, and the feel of her against him was like being home. Drake lightly cupped her elbow, running his fingers up to her wrist before he clasped her hand. Heat simmered between them, heavy and decadent, and he breathed in the intoxicating scent of her.
Fresh rainfall and delicious citrus.
In one fluid movement, he whisked her around the cave in a series of intricate steps. Creslyn stumbled in his arms, her footwork a confounding sequence of missteps. At one point he was certain he could hear her counting under her breath, her knee bumped into his shin, and then she stepped on his foot.
Drake glanced down at her. “Are you intentionally trying to hurt me?”
“No,” she ground the word out, tripped again, and her brow furrowed in exasperation.
“Are you certain you’ve waltzed before?” he asked, teasing.
He spun her away from him, then pulled her back in, and she blew out a breath, sending wisps of her hair fluttering. “I can manage well enough.”
Moving his hand to the center of her back, he hooked the other one under her leg and lowered her into a steep dip. “You, my lady, are a terrible dancer.”
“There is a reason I was always without a partner at balls.” She glared up at him, clinging to his arms. Her cloak slipped from her shoulders, and her breasts were so close, he could almost capture one with his mouth. “I am hardly perfect at anything. I lack skill in the arts and needlework. I’m not at all proficient with any musical instrument. But I perform well enough in bed and that must count for something.”
Drake’s mouth opened, snapped shut, and then he laughed.
Full and loud.
He grinned, sweeping her off her clumsy feet, and lifted her into his arms. But she surprised him by capturing his cheeks with both hands. Her lips parted and the look in her eyes was one he’d never seen before.
“You’re smiling.” The words were barely a whisper, she spoke with such reverence.
His brow lifted. “I’ve been known to do so a time or two.”
“No. It’s different. It’s real. ” She shook her head. “It’s the first time I’ve ever seen your smile reach your eyes.”
Then Creslyn’s mouth was on his, warm and wonderful. Full of a kind of intimacy that was almost unfamiliar to him. Their tongues met, soft and slow, as though they were tasting each other, discovering each other, for the first time.
Creslyn sighed, pulling away just enough so they could breathe the same air.
“If a real smile is all it takes to earn a kiss from you…” Drake pressed his forehead to hers, savoring the moment, hoping the bond, the kiss, would heal the wounds he’d left behind on her heart. “Then that is gladly how I will spend the rest of my days. Smiling at you.”