Episode 59
I Want You
Any moment now, that tail will slice into him, or the dragon’s fire will burn him to a crisp.
A warm surge of air blows around Rominy, and his eyes flash open at the sudden darkness behind his eyelids.
“He accepted your fire,” Elowyn murmurs, and Rominy almost tips over.
Stars above. Is that what they were doing?
“It knows the fire wasn’t mine, doesn’t it?” Rominy whispers.
“Dragons understand the bonds between mates. My fire is your fire. He accepted that you and I are mated.”
Her choice of words sends Rominy’s thoughts spiraling before he reins them back in. Now is definitely not the time.
“How do you know it’s a male?” Rominy asks.
“Look over there.” Elowyn points at something in the shadows, and bile rises in Rominy’s throat.
Another yellow eye attached to a shadowy figure a little smaller than the first one.
Elowyn was right. It’s another dragon.
“Now what?” Rominy asks.
“I don’t know. Tharios didn’t tell me what happens next.”
Rominy’s eyes swing toward her. “He what?”
“He’s the one who read all the books about dragons.”
“Elowyn! You mean this is all second-hand knowledge?”
“It worked, did it not? Besides, isn’t most knowledge gleaned from the teachings of others?”
As the dragon watches them, its eye narrows slightly, and Rominy shuts his mouth. It doesn’t seem to like them arguing.
“I’ll be honest. I thought we would wake by now,” Elowyn says. “We’ve been here for longer than we normally are.”
Rominy frowns. She’s right.
Thoughts of her state in the real world gnaw at him. Is that why they haven’t awoken?
“Stay with me, my love,” Elowyn says softly as she approaches him and trails her hand along his cheek.
Rominy watches the dragon from the corner of his eye, but Elowyn’s show of affection seems to have satisfied it. It remains wary as it returns to its mate and curls up beside her.
They did it. They communicated with the dragon. Sort of. In any case, they didn’t die.
“Elowyn, you are amazing,” Rominy whispers as a grin slips across his face. “You were perfect.”
“So were you, my love. We did it together.”
“Perhaps we should let them rest. They look tired.”
“I agree. We should return to our cottage.”
Something in Elowyn’s eyes makes Rominy’s heart beat faster, and he nods. Taking his hand, she tugs him along, and he glances back at the dragons once more, but they seem to be drifting back to sleep already.
Even in the dark, Elowyn knows where to step and when to turn, and Rominy blindly follows as her pace quickens. They break out of the fog of the labyrinth into their garden, their little cottage glimmering like a beacon, beckoning to them.
Elowyn’s own heart is racing now, propelling his to an even faster rhythm as she pulls him along. At the door to their cottage, she drops her bow and quiver, her back to the painted wood, and looks up at him with a heat that steals his breath away.
She whispers something, but he can’t make out the words. Then the door opens behind her, and she tugs him through it, barely pausing to kick it closed.
Once inside, she kisses him with the same fiery passion as earlier, and he doesn’t hesitate. His hands are in her hair, and he returns her kiss with all the hunger he’s been suppressing.
As natural as breathing. This feels as natural as breathing.
She doesn’t let go of him or their kiss as she pulls him toward the bedroom. Or he pushes her.
The sparks are back, though they’re less overwhelming than earlier, and as she leans against the bedroom door to close it behind them, a nervous thrill fills him. Can her magic handle this?
When she reaches for the hem of his shirt, he helps her pull it over his head before tossing the leather aside.
“Your magic,” he whispers between her kisses as she slides her hands over his chest. They’re warm—getting warmer by the second. And stars above, her touch awakens his own heat as shivers race to his fingers and toes.
“I have a plan,” she breathes. “Trust me.”
A plan? He barely has time to ponder her words before she clutches the hem of her own leather tunic, and his heart almost stops as she pulls it off. Whatever she’s wearing underneath is nothing like the underclothes she had on in the real world. Stars above.
Are they really doing this?
As natural as breathing. Awkward in some ways, perhaps, but it feels right.
And he has no desire to stop.
His hands slide along the silky skin at her waist, and he bites back a groan.
He definitely doesn’t want to stop.
Then she’s pushing him, and he barely registers that their cottage now has another room before she propels him through the door.
A water closet? Where did that come from?
She guides him toward the shower, and understanding dawns.
Water. She’s going to use the water to keep her fire at bay.
And then the shower is flowing, and she’s kissing him again. She mumbles something against his lips, and he grabs the wall as his boots vanish.
“How are you doing that?” he asks.
“I just ask the heartlanding,” she murmurs as she clings to him. The press of the flesh at her waist against his sends his mind reeling.
And then they’re in the water as it streams over them both. Her eye paint runs in rivulets down her cheeks, but it doesn’t matter. She’s perfect in every way. Perfect for him, at least.
“You won’t regret this in the morning, will you?” she asks as his hands slide around her lower back and he presses his lips to her jaw.
“Never.” He nuzzles her ear, and her knees waver, but he holds her steady.
“Your Highness.” The voice comes out of nowhere. A man’s voice. One that doesn’t belong in their heartlanding.
Rominy looks around in confusion.
“Don’t stop,” Elowyn whimpers, and Rominy swallows as he looks down at her where she clings to him.
Maybe he imagined it.
He pushes thoughts of the voice away as he busses the tip of her ear with his lips, and her breath catches. She murmurs his name with an aching longing, and he feels it deep within his core.
Then a hand grips his shoulder. “Your Highness.”
Rominy bolts up in the bed at the hotel as the room spins. The cottage is gone. The water no longer flows over him. And it’s not Elowyn’s gray eyes facing him. It’s Jonas. His head guard.
“I’m sorry for barging in, Your Highness, but it’s nearly noon. We got worried when you missed breakfast and didn’t brief us for the day like you usually do. Then it took so long to wake you...”
Jonas’s voice trails off, and Rominy tries to make sense of what he’s saying.
“Elowyn.” Rominy’s eyes swing to the bed beside him, and he blinks a few times to focus.
She’s still asleep. A gray cast fills her normally peachy complexion, and she’s burning up. He can feel her heat through the space separating them.
“I’ll leave you now, Your Highness. Again, forgive my intrusion.”
“Elowyn.” Rominy reaches for her before pulling his hand back. She’s like fire. “Elowyn!”
Jonas stills near the door, and Rominy pushes back his panic. Breathe. Elowyn would tell him to breathe.
He’s a future king, for goodness’ sake. He can’t crumble at the first sign of pressure.
“Send for the doctor,” Rominy says hoarsely. “Quickly.”
Apprehension fills Jonas’s face, and he nods before rushing through the door.
Earlier that morning...
With a groan, Cerian opens his eyes back in the real world. The memory of Arisanna pressing herself against him in the hot springs as he kissed her fills his head. He wasn’t ready for that to end.
Arisanna snuggles closer to his side, and he tightens his arm around her. The burning desire to finish what they started fills him, but his fire magic is already waking up here, the heat simmering beneath the surface.
“I just want to go back to sleep,” Arisanna murmurs. “That was awful timing.”
“The worst,” he chuckles.
“I don’t suppose...” Her voice trails off as she rests her hand on his chest over his leathers.
His heat is already building, and he sighs. “My magic—”
“It’s all right. This is nice. I like waking in your arms.”
Words form on his tongue, and he forces them out before he loses his nerve. “You could wake up like this every morning.”
“In a tree?”
Is she teasing him, or was that really not clear enough?
“I’m sorry, Cerian. I shouldn’t tease about that.”
She shifts beside him, lifting her upper body until she’s hovering over him.
Her hair is mussed, but the reddish strands catch the early morning light, and he gives in to the urge to play with the silken threads as she gazes down at him.
His fire magic will become overwhelming soon, but until it does, he won’t rush this moment.
“Are you inviting me to sleep in your bed all the time?” she whispers. The teasing is gone, leaving warmth and desire in its place—her own heat and passion that she keeps giving him tastes of here and in the heartlanding. He wants more than a taste. He wants it all.
“I think I am.”
“But you went to all that trouble to add a door.”
Is she serious?
Say it. He needs to just say it all. Every word building in his heart right now.
“I don’t want a door, Arisanna. I don’t want a wall. I don’t want anything to separate us. I-I want you. All of you.”
Her heart pounds, and his pulse thrums right along with hers.
Then her words from the heartlanding flit through his head. How it’s happening so fast, and she’s terrified.
“When you’re ready,” he whispers. “I meant to add that part.”
Rather than responding, she lowers her lips to his in a slow-burning kiss that threatens to obliterate his control completely.
Just as he’s about to pull away, she lets him go, and mixed relief and frustration fill him.
Curse his fire magic.
“We should get up soon,” she whispers. “It’s a long walk to Feressa.”
Feressa?
Whistling wind. He forgot all about Elowyn.