Chapter 28 #3
“I will let it be your choice,” I said.
She studied me. “It’s not that simple, though, is it?” she asked finally. “You’re traumatized too by what happened to us. We both need to heal, just in different ways. So which choice would make your hearts hurt less?”
I was more grateful than I could articulate that she understood my indecision. “Saliva,” I said. “Or blood.”
“All right.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m fine with either of those. And I’m grateful that you’re willing.”
“With all my hearts, I am more than willing.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Let me care for you, Elena. It is what I am meant to do.”
The pain in my chest eased now that I had a way to help. That was my purpose as Elena’s mate. She healed me, and I healed her.
I moved down the bed, caressing her legs as I spread them. She did not wince, but I was careful not to strain any of her muscles or move too abruptly.
I settled in on my stomach, slid a pillow beneath her hips, and nuzzled her thigh. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes.” Her fingers twisted in the bedding. “I need you to be gentle.”
“Always, my love,” I promised. “Except when you ask me not to be.”
She smiled. That smile was everything to me.
I studied my index finger, debating whether to bite and draw blood, and finally decided against it. Instead, I kissed her little patch of silky hair and opted to give her my tongue.
Very gently, I licked inside her, delving a little deeper with each press of my tongue.
“Ardruc,” she breathed. “Thank you.”
I was right, then. This was what she had wanted most of all.
She did not ride my face or moan and her hands stayed on the bedding rather than twist into my hair, just as I cradled her thighs and did not squeeze or growl. This was a different kind of worship, one my body was also made to do.
I laved her slowly, deeply, and thoroughly, listening for her sighs and sensing by her scent and little tremors where she ached most. Whenever she stroked my hair to wordlessly request a break, I rested my head on her thigh and focused on her heartbeat.
One loving touch at a time, I healed my mate and thanked every lucky star in the universe that I had the chance to do so.
I was not a violent man. I never had been. And yet I would have been capable of truly terrible acts if Elena had suffered a worse fate. Even now my gut churned and my hearts blazed with the need to make someone suffer for this.
I had come so very, very close to never holding this beautiful, brilliant, and breathtakingly perfect woman again. I knew who was responsible—or at least I believed I did—but not what I needed to do about it.
“Ardruc,” Elena murmured, drawing my attention with a touch on the crown of my head. “I’m sleepy again. Is it pheromones or am I healing because of your saliva?”
“I suspect it is both.” I kissed her inner thigh, marveling at its softness and how pliant her muscles were now. The sharp, metallic scent of her pain had faded. And with that, my stomach finally ceased churning. “And it is long past nightfall. Time for a dragon and his little mate to sleep.”
She smiled, but it was fleeting. “Please hold me while we sleep. I’m afraid I’ll dream about falling.”
I feared she might too. “I promise I will hold you.” I helped move her so she lay on her side facing my side of the bed, then drew her against my chest so I could tuck her head under my chin. “My love, feel my arms and tail around you. You are safe. I will make sure you do not fall.”
She murmured something I did not catch, but it sounded like thank you.
Cooing, I draped my wing over us and settled in next to my sleeping mate. My pheromones would help grant her peaceful rest while she healed. Her presence would do the same for me.
As I listened to her soft, even breathing and Forux’s little snores, I tried to focus on the miracle of my mate.
Instead, my mind conjured unwelcome memories of Pyru as I remembered him from fifteen years ago…and visions of him in his elegant house now, surrounded by sycophants, seething and plotting. Offering a contract to mercenaries and paying them a small fortune to drag me back to Fortusia in chains.
Why now, though, nearly five months after Nors died, and fifteen years after I left?
Perhaps sensing my uneasiness, Elena murmured against my chest. I cooed and stroked her hair until she quieted.
Moving slowly so I did not disturb her rest, I used my wristcomm to do something I had not done since leaving my homeworld: I searched for information on Pyru Harnda.
The results arrived two minutes later via data relay from Fortusia. I stared at the screen for a long time.
The file contained a half-dozen images of Pyru taken by public scanners in cities near where we lived.
He and some members of his inner circle had enjoyed complete freedom while the rest of us were trapped within the compound’s walls.
A familiar bitterness filled my mouth seeing him on the street, seemingly without a care.
In one image, he was laughing with a Fortusian man I did not recognize, but he might have joined after I left.
I had never seen Pyru laugh a single time in the decade I had lived in the compound.
If he had ever smiled, I did not recall that either.
The image was jarring—but not nearly as jarring as the rest of the information.
Below the images, I found a brief biography culled from provincial records. As well as Pyru’s educational and occupational background prior to founding the sect, it included a birth date…and a death date. The latter was a month ago.
The ground was kicked out from under my feet yet again.
Numbly, I searched for information on Nors. When the data arrived, it confirmed his death as having taken place nearly five months ago, around the time Olme had sent his message demanding my return.
If Pyru was dead, who the hells had sent these mercenaries? Surely my father did not have the means to do so, but I had no other possibilities in mind. And an inquiry into current leadership at the compound yielded no information.
My search for answers had led to more troubling questions. It was likely the only source of answers was Fortusia, the very place I did not want to go.
Nothing could be done now, so I switched off my wristcomm, closed my eyes, and nuzzled Elena’s hair, drinking in her scent and willing my dreams to be of her and nothing else.
Even with my mate in my arms, it took a very long time for sleep to find me.