Chapter 54
Von
N ight had fallen, painting the sparse, hilly terrain a deep shade of indigo.
We’d been flying all day, no stops, and my mate had fallen asleep in my arms. Her chest rose and fell in a natural, steady rhythm.
The further south we’d traveled, the hotter the sun became.
Still, I held her tightly to me, unable to get enough of the heat radiating from her body.
Because it meant she was alive .
I knew what the opposite felt like—when the heat faded from her skin and her muscles turned stiff.
I’d experienced that twice—losing her, holding her lifeless body in my arms. Both times, it had felt like someone had taken a sledge and smashed my rib cage open before they carved my phantom heart out.
For that was what Sage was—she was my heart.
My purpose.
My everything .
Her cheek was crunched up against my chest, causing small crinkles by her nose. She let out a soft, happy sigh, and the corners of her mouth tugged up into a smile.
It was a contagious thing, spreading to my own.
Are you dreaming, Little Goddess? I thought to myself.
Lately, whenever Sage slept, she recovered more and more memories of us, of when we’d been trapped together in the strange hole in the ground, when I was called Nockrythiam and she was the mortal daughter of Luna and Herulf.
With each memory retrieved, a story had begun to unfold, of two souls, trapped together, who started off despising one another but slowly started to like one another, and by the looks of her smile right now, perhaps even more .
Unwillingly, I pulled my attention from Sage and glanced up, eyes scanning the horizon.
Nothing but night sky stretched on before us.
Folkoln flew beside me, Artemesia in his arms, Kaleb perched on his shoulder.
His little beak kept tipping down as he tried not to nod off.
Every once in a while, he would jerk his head up, shake it, then try to focus on the story Artemesia told.
Artemesia. That one was quite the chatterbox, not that Folkoln seemed to mind.
He hung on to every word of hers more than he hung on to a bottle of bourbon.
I never thought I’d see the day, nor did I ever think there would be a female out there who could run my brother, the God of Chaos, ragged, but one look at Artemesia, and I knew that’s exactly what she would do to him.
Fucker deserved it too. He’d spent the majority of his lifetime tormenting others. Let him be the tormented one for once.
“Mmm,” Sage softly moaned as she nuzzled further into me.
One of my brows lifted—now I was curious. Was she having a wet dream about me? Or was she remembering a time when I had ravished her?
Sage had opened her mind to me, a door she left unlatched so I could join her dreams and memories while she was asleep. Letting my wings take over and my shadows steer us, I focused on the bridge connecting our minds and walked my way into hers.
“Creator above, this is sooo good,” the Little Mortal moaned like a female who was having her sex properly devoured, even though it was she who was doing the devouring. She sat across the fire from me, a fish in her grubby hands and a beaming smile on her face.
“It stinks horribly,” I groaned, repulsed by her. She’d eaten so many fish, it was a wonder she hadn’t turned into one. I could only imagine how horrible her arousal must taste—something I’d found myself thinking of more and more lately.
Not that I wanted to lick her. It would just be for . . . educational purposes.
“It does not. It smells delicious. Besides, what kind of dragon doesn’t like fish?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief .
“One with very good taste,” I answered, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned back against the tree.
“Or one who is just extremely picky,” she quipped, before her blunt mortal teeth tugged off another bite of flaky, pink meat.
“It is not a bad thing to have refined tastes, Little Mortal—”
“Sage,” she corrected, just as she had done hundreds of times before.
I smirked. Oh no, if she was going to sit across from me and eat fish every night—something I detested—she could have a taste of her own medicine. “I think I’ll stick with Little Mortal.”
She rolled her eyes, took another bite, chewed, swallowed, then said, “Speaking of names, we’ve been stuck down here for months, and I still don’t know yours.”
“Ah, you mean you’ve finally come to the conclusion it’s not Bastard ?”
She gave me a smug look. “I didn’t say that.”
Coy little creature.
I opened my mouth to give her my name, but something in me paused—perhaps it was the way people seemed to cower from me once I told them who I was. The stories attached to my name, although not always true, were horrible.
So naturally, people feared me.
I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want her to fear me too.
So, I didn’t tell her my name was Nockrythiam. Instead, I said, “Von. ”
“Von,” she said, tasting the name on her tongue. “Is that short for something?”
“Draevon.”
“And of the two, which do you prefer?” she asked, her sky-blue eyes meeting my black ones.
“No preference.”
“Then I’ll call you Von.”
The corners of my mouth lifted. “Von it is.”
She giggled. “You are smiling like an idiot.”
My expression snapped back into its normal scowling state. “I am not.”
“You were,” she teased, smiling back at me like the little brat she was. So proud of herself. She dropped her voice an octave, feigning seriousness. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell the other scary dragons you are a big softie.”
I rolled my eyes.
She giggled some more then tossed a piece of fish at me. It landed beside my boot.
I eyed it, then her, quirking one brow. “Are you throwing food at me?”
“I would never,” she lied.
“You just did.” I flicked my eyes to the chunk of fish.
She tried not to smile. “How odd. How did that get there?”
“You’re impossible.” I cursed my destiny for leading me here into this hole, where I was stuck with a woman who had the mind of a child.
A woman I was starting to care for. No. Nope.
I was not catching feelings for her. Mortal lifetimes were brief, and I had no desire to fall for a woman who’d only get to spend a few short years with me.
I needed to put some distance between us—both figuratively and literally.
Boots shifting, muscles contracting, I got up.
“Where are you going?” she asked, standing as well.
“Where it doesn’t stink like fish.” I turned to walk away.
Her bare feet padded against the ground as she rushed to catch up with me. “I’ll come with you. I’m done eating anyway.”
“I have to take a piss,” I lied, hoping my words would deter her. “You want to come hold it for me?”
“Oh, sorry.” She chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “You go ahead.”
I glanced down at her bare feet, toes wiggling in the dirt. Annoyance needled its way into my flesh, stitching itself in my words. “Why aren’t you wearing your shoes?”
“Because I’m my mother’s daughter,” she answered. Cryptic as ever.
“Meaning?” I grated, voice rough.
“My mother taught me it’s important to feel the earth beneath my feet every once in a while.” She wiggled her toes some more. “It’s good for the soul.”
“You have delicate mortal skin, which has about the same strength as paper, and you are susceptible to infection. I don’t know anything about treating mortal wounds or how to take care of you if you fall ill, so please, do us both a favor and put your damn shoes on.”
She was silent for a moment, eyes flicking back and forth as if she were reading a book, accessing its information. When they lifted to mine, her gaze was so intense, it could have leveled a mountain. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” I lied.
Then, without another word, I stalked off into the woods.
Returning from the memory, I glanced down at Sage, finding her looking up at me, her beautiful blue eyes awake. A few of her silken strands swirled around her face, dancing on the melody of the gently whistling wind.
“That day, I knew you were lying,” she said, her hand reaching up to cradle my cheek, her touch soft. “I saw the truth behind your words, that you were starting to fall for me.”
“I was an idiot for not admitting it to you back then, on that very day,” I answered her.
Air swept into my lungs, filling them on a long inhale as I took a breath.
“In truth, I can hardly connect with the immortal I was back then. He seems so different from who I am now. Quite the pompous asshole.”
Sage laughed at that. It was a sound I wanted to hear over and over again. “Your soul was young back then, and so was mine. That girl saw life in color. Even when she was stuck in a hole with a broody dragon, the world was vibrant. ”
“So then, what is it now?” I asked, the words rumbling from my chest.
She glanced around, looking at the sky. “They are different now, always changing, sometimes disappearing altogether. When I woke up in Clearwell Castle . . . when I thought you had died, all the colors faded into one—gray. It was everywhere. From the floors to the walls to the bed I cried myself to sleep on.” Her gaze met mine.
“But then I found out you were alive, and the blues and greens and yellows and reds, all of the colors returned. However, they were different, forever changed. As was I.” She paused for a moment.
“I suppose I’m a bit like your eyes, my love—without you, there are no colors. ”
“Then I will ensure I’m always by your side,” I promised her, pressing a kiss into her palm.
“You better,” she teased, her fingers stroking my stubble.
With a smile on my lips, I looked up.
The terrain ahead was beginning to change, the grass becoming even more sparse, the ground shifting into sand, glinting with gold mica, which meant—
We’d reached the Naftiah Desert.