Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tension gnawed its way through Kjeld. His muscles seized and rippled, making each movement forceful and stiff.
As he loaded the gray leather sack securing the dragon eggs onto Odryss, he popped his jaw, grinding his teeth.
His nerves hissed and snapped, causing his patience to falter and his temper to spike.
Everything imaginable was an annoyance, an absurd irritation that left him disgruntled.
The firm leather seat bound to his dragon’s back was once capable of accommodating him and one other passenger perfectly.
Yet now he barely fit due to his considerable size.
There was hardly a shred of space for Caelian to sit, which meant she would likely be situated upon his lap.
The thought alone built a wall of dread inside him.
If she were more proficient, he would allow her to ride Astrylys on her own to Brackroth.
But unfortunately, Caelian knew next to nothing about dragons, much less riding them, so their means of transportation fell solely to him.
Again, under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be concerned with such matters.
But the lack of space was going to amplify certain…
things. Kjeld already hated himself for abandoning her in the tub, then for yelling at her in the forest after she discovered him fucking his own hand while imagining her.
He had chosen to ignore her every day since, and as much as he despised his decision, he knew keeping his distance from her was necessary.
Being short and uninterested was the only way to ensure she stayed at arm’s length.
At least until he could sort through the truth of his heart.
Kjeld wanted to love her. Of his own accord.
But instead, his rampant interest in her morphed into ardent infatuation the moment he turned fae.
He craved her. Yearned for her. Yet his intense appetite for her made him wary, especially now that he knew her virtue remained intact.
If anything, it made him selfish. Ravenous. Because he wanted her all for himself.
But he couldn’t seem to release the part of him that clung to his resentment of her actions.
He couldn’t ignore the disdain for what she stole from him.
He placed all the blame on her, and in doing so, his mind went to war with his heart.
It was unfair of him to toy with her emotions, he couldn’t long for her and loathe her at the same time.
Caelian deserved better than the uncertainty that plagued him.
All the more reason to remain as detached as possible.
A feat that would be epically difficult considering they were being forced to travel together for the foreseeable future.
Odryss stretched into the warm kiss of summer, his stormy gray scales glinting silver in the early hue of dawn.
He craned his neck, his dagger-like claws sinking into the fresh, stony earth on the mountain’s ledge as he prepared for the long journey ahead.
Opening his jaws, he snapped at the air once.
Twice. His dark orange gaze tracked something in the distance.
The dragon’s pupils narrowed to vertical slits, then expanded in size, and Kjeld turned around to see what caught the beast’s eye.
In the distance, between the curls of morning mist and the rise of purple mountains, Caelian slowly approached with Creslyn and Drake following close behind.
Despite his best efforts, Kjeld could do nothing but stare at Caelian.
This was going to be the longest ride of his life.
Even though she was dressed appropriately for the journey and carried only a single satchel, exactly as he demanded, she looked as though she walked among the stars.
A cape of navy velvet billowed behind her, pinned into place by a sparkling diamond brooch displaying the Starstorm family crest. The fur-trimmed hood was pulled up, hiding most of her face and her eyes from view.
The gown she wore was heavier, thicker, but it molded to her curves like liquid starlight.
With Caelian’s every step, the dress shimmered, moving with her in the gray morning light and evoking a kind of eerie decadence as the mist curled near her feet.
She played the part of an emissary well—the gentle sway of her hips and the proud angle of her chin were all clear signs of her nobility.
Yet her gaze remained downcast as she approached him, and she said nothing as Drake took her bag and strapped it onto the back of Odryss.
“Remember your purpose.” Drake clamped Kjeld firmly on the shoulder. “Learn what you can about the witch queen, then return to Aeramere.”
Kjeld nodded once but he didn’t miss the way Caelian bristled at Drake’s words.
Her spine snapped straight, and a ripple of tension flurried around her.
He knew what worried her. She had no desire to return to Aeramere during the Midsummer Season, not when she would be expected to be on the hunt for a husband.
That thought alone caused his blood to simmer.
But he also had agreed to take her to Wenfyre, even though that part of their journey had not yet been approved by Ariesian.
It would be clandestine, a secret known only to the two of them.
Assuming she still planned to venture there, of course.
“Do not fear Brackroth, or this witch queen.” Creslyn enveloped her twin in a tight hug. She eased back, adjusted the fur hood pulled low over Caelian’s face. “You are a lady of Aeramere, a daughter of Starstorm, and—”
“A fae kneels to no man,” Caelian confirmed, finishing Creslyn’s sentence for her. There was a chill in her voice. An edge. And she lifted her chin in spite. “I won’t soon forget it.”
Creslyn’s smile widened. “See that you don’t.”
“Stay with General Holtstrom at all times, do you understand?” Drake dipped his head, meeting Caelian’s hooded gaze, ensuring she grasped the depth of his warning. “I have no doubt much has changed since I left. Whether it is for good or for bad remains unseen.”
Caelian raised a brow, canting her head to the side. “Are you not the god of shadow and prophecy? Surely you could, I don’t know…look?”
Creslyn snorted and Drake smirked. “That’s not quite how it works. But take heed, Caelian. Brackroth is notoriously volatile in nature.”
“We should go.” Kjeld coughed lightly, clearing his throat, but it did little to ease the mounting tension strain between himself and Caelian. “No good ever comes of a delay.”
“Very well.” Caelian spun on her heel and stared up at the leather seat bound upon Odryss’s back. Her gaze took in the size of the mighty dragon, from his sharply angled jaw and long neck, to his majestic wings fitted with claws, to his dangerous tail. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
Kjeld was inclined to agree but swallowed his retort, refusing to engage in her apparently foul mood. He launched himself into the seat, then leaned over with his arms outstretched.
Drake plucked Caelian off the ground and lifted her up like she weighed no more than a feather, and Kjeld gathered her into him, securing her on his lap.
She stiffened immediately as he adjusted her legs, dangling them over his left thigh.
He situated her close and pulled the leather belt tight, strapping her against him.
Taking the reins in one hand, he kept his other arm wrapped around her waist for an extra measure of safety, grinding his teeth to ash when she squirmed, her perfectly round ass rubbing against his thickening cock.
Think of something else.
Another wiggle and his fingers gripped her hip.
Anything else.
Caelian kept her hood pulled up, but he noticed the way she lifted her hand in a sad farewell as Odryss stood, rising to take flight.
“Vaeja,” Kjeld muttered, and the dragon launched forward. The force of his strength sent Caelian slumping against Kjeld’s chest, and her gloved hands clutched the reins, as though she was too fearful to let go.
Odryss soared from the Moonfall Peaks, his glimmering gray wings outstretched as they cut through the sea of wispy clouds and an awakening sky.
The dragon continued to climb, to where the air turned cool and pleasant, until the coast of Aeramere was nothing but a distant memory.
A warm, gusting breeze blew Caelian’s hood back, tangling her silvery hair and exposing her neck.
Strands of pastel hair whipped around her, tickling his chin, teasing him with her scent.
From this angle, he was greeted with the full swell of her bosom as her cape rippled loosely in the wind.
Once their pattern evened out and Odryss was able to glide with ease, Caelian released the reins, shifting again. Wriggling in his lap, she shimmied, fumbling with the fur hood of her cloak.
“Be still,” Kjeld snapped, his grip on the reins tightening, his fingers digging into her flesh.
She pushed at his forearm in a poor attempt to loosen his hold. “You’re hurting me.”
“Apologies, my lady.” Kjeld instantly recoiled, knowing if he wasn’t careful, he would leave bruises. His hand slid from her hip, skating over the fine fabric of her dress, before coming to rest on her thigh. “It was not my intention to hurt you.”
Somehow, that simple statement meant much more than he realized.
Caelian huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “I don’t see why you feel the need to grip me so tightly. I’m clearly not able to go anywhere.”
Again, she wiggled, fiddling with the fraying leather of the belt’s strap.
“You know not what you do,” he gritted out, desperately trying to keep the blood in his veins from pooling in his groin.
“I beg your pardon?” She tossed a hasty glance over her shoulder at him, the deep pools of her eyes tempting him to jump in and drown.
She looped a fallen strand of hair back into the coiffed bun at the nape of her neck.
Her beautiful, flawless neck, where layers of sapphires dripped down her throat.
The corner of her mouth twitched. “Is that a threat, General?”
“No, my lady.” Kjeld’s voice was gruff, hoarse with longing.
He wanted to kiss the hollow of her throat.
To glide his tongue all the way to the tip of her pointed ear.
He would bet anything she tasted as good as she looked, and it drove him mad with lust. The ravenous hunger for her would not ease.
He was starved. Damn near famished. “Not a threat.”
She fidgeted then, clasping her hands together in her lap.
He prayed she wouldn’t move, that she would sit there silently and contemplate their scant interaction.
But then she twisted in his lap, attempting to face him fully, and he was certain she had to know.
Surely she could feel his hardened length pushing into her.
“Then what—”
Kjeld couldn’t handle it anymore. Snaring her by the waist, he pitched forward and scraped his teeth along the delectable flesh of her neck.
Just enough to sting. But not enough to draw blood.
He laved his tongue over the spot, trailing its warm tip all the way to her ear.
To his surprise, Caelian didn’t cry out.
She didn’t scream or thrash. Instead, she melted into him, the softest of moans slipping between her pillowy lips.
The tempting scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, and his cock surged to life.
Fuck.
He was definitely going to die.
“Every time you move,” he ground out slowly, enunciating each word. “Every time you shift your hips, or wiggle, or squirm…this happens.”
He pressed his palm flat against her lower stomach, pushing her into him, so she could feel the proof of his desire nudging into her bottom.
“Do it again,” he warned quietly over the wind rushing past their ears, “whether on purpose or accident, and make no mistake…I will fuck you.”
Caelian sucked in a short breath, her lashes fluttering wildly, her body growing incredibly still.
“I will shove up your skirts, bend you over this seat, and take you from behind.” Kjeld dragged his thumb down the center of her lips, so the bottom one stuck out in a pout.
“I will fuck you until the skies are filled with you screaming my name. Until my cum is dripping down your thighs. Until your sweet little cunt is raw from taking my cock all the way to Brackroth.”
Something like shock glinted in her eyes, but it was banked by a heat he recognized all too well.
Kjeld murmured his next promise against the corner of her mouth, the scruff of his jaw lightly grazing her smooth, sensitive skin. “And then I’ll do it all over again.”
Caelian bristled, and the brief glimpse of yearning that stole into the depths of her blue gaze vanished. She yanked up her hood, burying herself in the soft fabric. Lifting one shoulder, she barely spared him a glance. But when her eyes cut to him, they burned with challenge.
Her pink tongue darted out, sliding between her lips. “A promise, then?”
“Aye, Starweaver.” Kjeld rocked his hips forward so his hardened length settled between her thighs, creating an unforgivable kind of friction. “That’s a promise.”
He wanted her to provoke him.
He was silently begging her to be defiant. To test him. To taunt him.
But part of him was grateful Caelian lacked the courage to defy him. That the spark inside her dulled to a barely breathing flame. That she sat perfectly still, doing little more than fiddling with the furry hem of her cape, twisting the fibers between her fingers.
Because Kjeld wanted nothing more than to prove he was a man of his word.