Chapter 15
Erich had been reckless, thinking with his cock rather than using this rare opportunity.
He could have whisked her out of there with ease.
He was a fool. It was taking all his restraint to stand back and watch her walk away.
If he followed her, forced her to come with him as he’d planned when he’d followed her into the garden, he wouldn’t be teetering on the edge of the dragon’s obsession anymore—he’d be diving headfirst into it.
For now, its tastes were lewd, but it could turn bloodthirsty in an instant.
And despite his disappointment in himself, his cock was straining, and the dragon was desperate to bury himself in her to the hilt.
All Erich could do was tighten the chains around it in a futile attempt to subdue this suffocating desire he had for her. The dragon wouldn’t go quietly. It scratched and clawed at his insides until he was trembling with the exertion.
If the moon were fuller, he might have lost, but after several minutes of wrestling with his inner dragon, Erich collapsed onto his knees, panting for breath but back in full control of his impulses.
From the moment he’d arrived in Basilia, he’d felt this faint aching in his bones.
No, it was before that, in Artria. The first moment he saw her, he felt the ache in his chest, a desperate longing for something he couldn’t put into words.
And it was Liane. It had always been her.
The dragon’s desires were unfathomable at times and often blurred with his own.
He tried to keep that part of him separate, the monster under his skin and the man fighting for control.
But every time he was around Liane, those lines started to blur.
He’d known from the start that convincing Liane to leave the church would be a monumental task.
Asking her to abandon her faith, which formed the foundation of her kingdom and supported her mother’s rule, was a big ask.
What he hadn’t expected was her rejection to pierce him down to his soft, vulnerable core.
He wasn’t a stranger to rejection, to the fear and revulsion in people’s eyes when they learned the truth, from his father to the strangers he’d met on the way while seeking a cure.
He’d thought Liane was different, but maybe that’d been wishful thinking on his part.
The hour was late, and curfew loomed, but each step back to the inn felt as if he were dragging his feet through the mud.
He needed to recoup, to think up a new approach.
Perhaps one where he wasn’t left alone with Liane.
He wasn’t sure he could trust himself otherwise.
Before tonight, he’d thought he had it under control, but maybe it was the dragon who’d had him under its claw all along.
This was a new facet to the dragon’s curse he hadn’t experienced before.
Perhaps the advancement of his condition was spiraling him closer to his inevitable demise.
He needed to keep it in check long enough for Fritz to get her away.
Then he’d succumb and pay his debt to Leonhard by fighting in the ring, a miserable monster too afraid to die.
Erich couldn’t fathom why he’d given him an invitation to the ball, but his gut had told him he had to go.
Then he’d seen Liane and knew what game he was playing.
Like the Sundland wine and the dagger, he was using her to taunt him and remind him of his debt yet to be paid.
The mark Leonhard had left upon him burned, and after tonight, he was likely expecting Erich to come to him, but he’d ignore the summons.
And would continue to do so until he had no other choice.
Pilgrims and laborers seeking an evening’s entertainment before the curfew bells rang crowded around the tables in the common room of the Raven’s Wing Inn.
The innkeeper rushed between tables, arms laden with pewter mugs of ale, and the scent of stew filled the space.
Erich was ravenous, but the thought of sitting amongst a crowd attempting to eat seemed ill-advised.
He trudged up the stairs to his room, ready to collapse onto his bed and sleep until sunrise.
He swung open his door and was greeted by a warm fire and the smell of freshly baked bread, cheese, sausage, and meat pies. Fritz poured wine into two glasses before greeting Erich.
“I couldn’t find Sundland wine, but I hope this will suit you.” He raised a glass toward Erich.
Erich stared slack-jawed at the spread. Fritz gestured for him to take a seat, and without proper words to express his thanks, Erich sank into a chair, ripped open a piece of bread, spread warm butter over it, and tore into it.
The last time he’d eaten this well was back at Ivar’s town house.
He’d eaten plenty of inn food. This wasn’t the usual bowl of stew, hard bread, and nearly rancid sausage he’d become accustomed to at the Raven’s Wing.
Rather than thank Fritz for the food as he should, he asked, “Where’d you get this?’
“Isabella isn’t Bertha, but she is a good cook when properly motivated.”
Erich bit a sausage in half and chewed slowly, contemplating the elf across from him.
He assumed Bertha was the innkeeper who owned the inn Fritz had spent the better part of a year living out of in Artria.
It shocked him, given the history between their kind, that Fritz cared for humans.
If Erich had to guess, Fritz had buttered up Isabella to make him this feast. Fritz ate a few bites of cheese and meat and smirked at Erich.
“How are your balls?” Fritz asked.
Erich nearly spit out the wine he was drinking and set down his glass as he swallowed hard.
“I meant to say the ball,” Fritz said, hiding his smile in his glass.
He didn’t want to know if he’d seen what happened in a vision or not.
Erich leaned back in his chair and tried to appear nonchalant, but feared he was failing miserably. “She won’t hear anything I have to say. The Avatheos has dug his claws in deep.”
“She can fight it all she wants, but your destinies are too entwined to be untangled. It would be like asking the moon not to rise as the sun sets.”
“But the moon doesn’t always rise.” Erich rubbed his stubbled chin.
He’d eaten a feast after the fight, and yet his hunger still gnawed at him.
He wondered if he’d ever feel satiated again.
Liane’s flushed face and parted lips flashed through his mind, and his manhood stirred once more.
He’d need to take himself in hand later to calm that particular beast. Not that he was certain it would really cool his desires.
“Just because you cannot see her, doesn’t mean she’s not there,” Fritz said cryptically.
He was going to assume he was waxing poetic about the moon and couldn’t tell where Erich’s thoughts had strayed.
“Speaking of the moon, the full moon is less than two weeks away. We should make plans for when I need to leave the city and transform.”
“Yes, I suppose we will,” Fritz said distractedly, as he pushed the crust of bread around his plate.
“Leonhard knows where we are, and he’s close to the Avatheos. I think for both our safety, it’s best if we pull up roots.”
“Do you know what really caused the Corruption?” Fritz asked.
“Are you trying to change the subject?” Erich asked with an arched brow.
Fritz didn’t look up from his plate. “What humans call the Corruption, we call the flood of tears. It’s what started our genocide.
The sun cult, now known as the Church of Sol, burned the moon temples and places like here, where dual worship protected the source.
They murdered those of us with ties to the moon—the elves, the dragonborn, and the others.
Our blood seeped into the ground and created a chain reaction that swept through the veins of magic, polluting and weakening them.
The Nameless Goddess tried to stop them, but Cyra’s cult had grown too strong, and they sealed her inside the veins, locking her power and cementing their own.
” Fritz recited this all, staring out into the distance, haunted and terrified.
As if he were reliving those moments himself.
“Why are you telling me this now?” Erich asked.
Fritz turned to look at him, his vision clearing.
“Because you need to understand light cannot exist without dark. Everything requires balance. It may seem that your warnings to Liane have gone unheeded, but you’ve planted a seed of doubt in her mind, and if it is cultivated, it shall bloom.
If she didn’t want to believe you, why would she have spoken with you tonight? ”
Erich didn’t have an answer for him. Not one that was decent for polite company.
But suppose Fritz was right, and Liane could be convinced, how much longer did he have before Leonhard got bored with this game of cat and mouse and decided to call in Erich’s debt?
Or before the Avatheos caught wind of a dragon loose in their mist and had him executed?
“Let’s find another inn after I return from my transformation. And perhaps consider splitting up.” Erich stood.
“You’re not alone anymore. I know you’re itching to rescue her, but we can do this together. If you give me more time...” Fritz said. He reached across the table, then recoiled at the last moment.
Erich had spent so long alone that it felt wrong to lean on anyone. Besides, the longer they spent together, the higher the chance he’d get Fritz killed.
“Don’t worry about me. But if you find a way to get Liane out of the temple, I’m all ears.”
Erich took a few steps toward his bed and turned around once more. “And thanks for dinner.”
Fritz smiled softly. “Anytime.”