Chapter 88 Zadyn
ZADYN
It’s an effort to move.
My muscles are so weak, I have to lean on Serena to help get me in and out of chairs—the numbness in my legs and feet bordering on painful.
“This will help the muscles recover more quickly.” The Matron holds up a small glass jar of the darkest amber.
“Apply that to his lower extremities three times daily, and he should be walking without aid in a matter of days. And this—” She passes Serena a vial of blue-gray powder. “Sprinkle this in his bath.”
The Matron presses her hand to my bare chest, inspecting me with clinical concentration.
“The heart is strong. How is the mind?” she asks, opening eyes strangely similar to Mar’s.
“I remember everything.” I look up at her. “Thank you for helping me get back.”
“Who am I to deny our queen?” The Blueblood elder glances toward Serena, now perched on the corner of the wooden table across from me.
“What—”
“You must know by now.” She gives her a meaningful look. “Tell me, girl, do you hear voices in the presence of magical objects? Do they speak to you? Do you hear the whispers of the trees? Do you feel the forests bending to you? What do they say?”
Serena’s face falls. She goes speechless.
“We’ve waited a long time for you.”
“That…I think you’re mistaken. I’m not a queen.”
“Ask your dragon if you have trouble trusting this old crone.”
“It’s not like that—” Serena starts, but the Matron spares her, smiling knowingly.
“All in good time, Blackblood.” With a hearty pat on Serena’s shoulder, she takes her leave.
“Do you believe me now?” I ask, leaning my elbows against my knees. Serena glances at me, pushing back her thick mass of hair.
“I would prefer to remain in denial as long as possible. Blackblood—Dragon Rider—was one thing. Queen is another entirely.” She blows out a long breath, sauntering toward the door with the vial the Matron left for me. “I’m gonna draw you a bath.”
“You know, I don’t need you fussing over me like this,” I call out to her. “I’m not an invalid,” I finish as she reappears around the corner.
“I didn’t say you were. Besides, maybe I like fussing over you.” She picks up the salve and eyes me.
“What are you doing?”
“Take off your pants.”
I nearly choke.
“She said to apply this to the lower extremities.”
“Yeah—I know what she said. I can do it.”
“You can’t even bend to lace your boots up right now. I can tell you’re in pain. Just let me help you.”
Bad idea. I exhale through my nose. “Serena.”
“Zadyn.”
She cocks her hip, her lavender eyes piercing a hole right through my chest. I know there’s no winning this fight, so I sigh, tossing my hands up.
She slips her arms beneath me and hauls me up with a quiet grunt. I drape my arms over her shoulders, trying like hell not to breathe in the intoxicating fragrance lingering in her hair. Her fingers brush against my navel, and I suck in a sharp breath.
“Are you okay?”
“Your hands are fucking freezing.”
Her giggle vibrates against my chest. “I’m almost done.”
She hooks her fingers over my waistband and pushes my pants down. My face is buried in that hair, so close to the pulse crashing against the tide of her perfect skin.
“Okay, I’m going to sit you down.”
We stumble back, slamming into the chair, her arms still tangled around me. Her mouth lingers so close to mine, but then she pulls back and sinks onto her knees.
She’s on her knees.
In front of me. And I am sans pants. Of all the ways I’ve imagined this playing out, this one did not make the list.
Her fingers dip into the salve, and she begins to slather it over my legs, starting at my feet and working her way up to my calves.
I clutch the wooden armrests hard enough to snap them clean off.
The feel of her fingers kneading my numb muscles, slowly working life back into them…
It takes everything in me to hold myself back.
Her hands glide up to my thighs, and I hiss.
“Sorry,” she mumbles.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I feel like you’re in pain. Am I hurting you?”
I tip my head back and laugh. “No, I’m not in pain. I’m trying to focus.”
“On what?”
“On anything but your hands on me.”
Her mouth forms a little “O” shape as her hands still.
“Do you—do you want me to stop?”
Does she not know what she’s doing to me? The way she’s teasing me? Tempting me?
“Not really. It’s working.”
And it is. I feel more sensation in my lower extremities than I care to right now.
“Oh. Good.”
She resumes working the salve into my quads, and I have to channel all of my concentration elsewhere. I try to think of the most disgusting things I can, conjure the most grotesque images, but none of it can chase away the need building within me.
Her palms shift higher, disappearing beneath the hem of my undershorts. Her pinky nail grazes my hip, and my hand shoots out to grip her wrist.
“You don’t have to go any higher.” I swallow. “I have feeling from the hips up.”
Her touch disappears, and I can breathe again. Then, using my knees for leverage, she pushes to her feet, her hands still gleaming with the salve.
“You have feeling here?” She presses them against my bare chest.
I nod. “Yes.”
Her hands glide outward, smoothing the tight muscles until she reaches the top of my biceps. It feels so fucking good.
“Here?”
Gods, yes. I nod again.
Then she drags her nails down the insides of my arms, and my eyes nearly roll back in my head. She lifts my hand, her slick fingers slipping through mine.
“And here?” A wicked look shadows her eyes, stirring something primal in me.
I nod a third time, words evading me as she lays my hand at the base of her neck and slides her knee between my legs to rest on the edge of the seat. She leans in.
I’m dreaming. I have to be.
“And what about here?” Her thumb brushes over my mouth, pulling at my bottom lip.
And then I can’t stop it.
I can’t stop myself from touching her, from gripping her hips and bringing her closer. From taking her thumb in my mouth and tasting her skin. From sucking on it, letting my tongue swirl and my teeth nip as she watches me fucking crumble for her.
I release it with a pop and tug her forward, scooping her legs onto the seat to straddle me. That little smile finally blooms as she settles her weight down over the aching bulge beneath my shorts.
Fuck, that smile.
All I can think about is her on top of me. And I’m so tired of resisting.
My hands glide over the curve of her ass as I gaze up at her with hooded eyes.
Her hips curl against me. The need within us both outweighs any sanity, any reason as she starts to move on me, as my palms guide her back and forth in a way that is completely maddening, in a way I want never to end.
Her fingers thread through my hair. She brings her forehead to mine.
Her cheeks are flushing deeper by the second, her breaths growing more and more uneven.
She tugs on my hair now as she writhes against me faster and harder until we’re both whimpering, about to speed right past the point of no return.
Because in about three seconds, I’m ripping the clothes from her body and fucking her right here on this chair.
“You should really lock your door if you plan on getting down and dirty.”
It’s like a record screeching to a halt as Kai ambles in like he owns the place.
“Kai! What the fuck,” I growl. Serena’s head whips around, her hair smacking me in the face.
“Ever heard of knocking?” She scrambles off me, and I bite back a frustrated groan, attempting to cover my lap.
“I’m familiar with the practice, but I don’t really believe in it.
Mar sent me to see if you needed help getting Zadyn into the bath.
But clearly my presence is completely superfluous.
So I’ll just be on my way. Carry on. Oh, and Zadyn—” He turns back, offering me a golf clap and says, “Well done, my friend.”
I rip my shirt off the armrest and chuck it at him. He scurries away like the deviant little sprite he is.
Serena looks back at me and laughs, covering her mouth in the cutest way. She picks up the salve and screws the lid on. “What the hell is in this stuff?”
I stretch my legs. I definitely have more feeling than I did before. I’m sure I’ll have more once the blood pooling in my dick decides to redistribute to the rest of my body.
“Would you hand me that?”
She passes me the walking stick the Matron dropped off. I push to my feet, taking a tentative step toward the bathroom.
“Zadyn, that’s amazing!” she exclaims.
I take another step. The third step is a little tougher, so I pause to gather my strength. Serena steps in to help.
“I’m okay.”
“I was just going to help you into the bath.”
“That’s probably not a good idea right now.” My eyes helplessly trek over her body.
“That’s on brand for us, isn’t it?” she flirts.
I laugh, shaking my head, relishing the word “us” rolling off her tongue.
“I’m okay,” I insist, nodding toward the door.
She looks torn. “I’m going to grab Kai or Dover. Just in case you need help.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
“I—” She stares at me for a beat longer, nodding awkwardly. “Yeah. Okay.”
Then she ducks out of the cabin, face still adorably flushed.
Yes. Bad idea is definitely our brand.
But fuck it.
I’m tired of caring.