29. Aurelia
Chapter 29
Aurelia
S omething changes in the air as Xander cuts himself off and promptly collapses onto the ground with a heavy thud.
Lady Drakos cries out, lunging towards her son as Francesca steps back, her mouth dropping open, looking towards her own parents for some explanation.
The dragon king does not move at all, which means that when I reflexively reach out a hand towards his son, I can’t move any further due to my leash. I shouldn’t even try, being bare ass naked and still recovering from near suffocation. I think that entire traumatising episode may have killed more than a few of my brain cells because I’m fluffy-brained as I stare in shock at Xander’s collapsed form.
Lady Drakos and the celebrant shake Xander, and servants rush forward to assist.
“Move over. Let me see him.” Lady Hyena’s voice sounds like a firecracker through the mutter of concerned and affronted dragons. It’s a surprise because I didn’t even realise she was here. We all turn to see her hobbling up to the altar, using her black cane to swat away the human butler trying to roll Xander over. She huffs darkly under her breath, leaning on her cane, both hands propped one on top of the other, and she stares down at the supine dragon heir as if reading him. “Natural consequence.” A dry sniff. “He’ll be fine.” She looks out at the crowd. “Best to get on with it, eh?”
Flores gives a very dragon-like snort that I’m convinced only I hear before he saunters forward.
Old, dark eyes catch mine on her way out. A hint of knowing. A hint of amusement. I meet her gaze steadily. Just because I’m naked doesn’t mean I can’t give a fucking nasty glare.
But what does she know? Does Xander’s collapsing have something to do with his severed bond to me?
I watch Xander carefully as Flores steps up to the altar, which means I’m the only person except Lady Drakos who sees the king dragon’s whip of fire lash at Xander’s neck. He flinches before his eyes begin to open and crescent moons of white light are shown to me. Xander frowns, and different colours flicker through his eyes until they settle on a deep and terrifying black. Obsidian smoke streams from Xander’s nose as his eyes open all the way. It’s then I notice one of his earphones has dropped out and is lying on the crimson rug.
Without even thinking, I lurch forwards and grab the earphone, shoving it into his ear.
Xander blinks rapidly, the black eyes shifting colours backwards through the spectrum until we reach yellow, then lastly white.
A sigh of relief breezes past my lips before Xander’s eyes widen and he leaps to his feet.
“Apologies,” he says, helping his mother up. I scuttle backwards, away from the eyes and behind Flores. “I suppose that’s what I get for eating too much this morning. Shall we continue?” He holds an expectant hand out to Francesca, who by this time has retreated all the way to the side of her parents, standing with her, clutching each other’s arms.
The dragoness plasters a very fake smile upon her bridal-pink glossy lips and nods. “Of course, Xander.”
I scowl at her doll-like features. A perfect, stunning creature that would have many a beast drooling. She sweeps back up to the altar, taking Xander’s offered hand. The celebrant hands Xander the bride’s massive ruby ring again and he puts it onto her finger without so much as another word.
The celebrant finishes the ceremony as if nothing happened, and I feel like I’m the only one who knows we’d been moments from disaster.
Damn my conscience. I should have let his bloody berserker genes, or whatever Savage called them, out into the open so everyone could see what a monster this dragon is.
Scratch that thought; he’d probably come for me first. Those black eyes were actually terrifying to see.
A hiss of pain drags me back to the present, just in time to see two coils of flame fastened around both Xander’s and Francesca’s arms where they’re grasping each other at the wrists.
The scent of burning flesh fills the air as the bride and groom stare into each other’s eyes. Sweat freely drops from Francesca’s neck as the morbid hand-fastening is displayed to everyone until Xander smiles at her and they both drop their powers, flames going out with a puff.
Xander’s left hand reaches for Francesca’s burnt one, her forced smile almost breaking as Xander hovers his palm over the inflamed flesh and the angry red burn smooths itself away, healed. She quickly does the same to him and I have to look away.
Something in my periphery catches my attention and I find Lady Drakos, seated in her front-row seat, not looking at her son, but me, her expression infinitely sad, her golden eyes glistening. Her shoulders move on a sigh, but she holds my gaze.
I’m sorry, s he seems to say.
A polite, subdued round of applause lets us both know the ceremony is done and Lady Drakos tears her eyes off mine and rises to her feet as Xander and Francesca smile at their audience and make their way down the aisle, hand in fucking hand.
“Does she have to be here?” Francesca asks rudely, the corners of her mouth turned down as she tries not to look at me. “I feel as if she’s staring at me.”
“Pardon?” Xander seems distracted as he undoes his tie. But he’s been distracted all night. As if only half his mind is in the present in the room.
After a subdued reception and dinner, in which I had to crouch by Flores Drakos’ knee the entire time—at least I was hidden by the table—we’ve returned to Xander’s room for the night. All three of us. A happy family.
My skin hurts, my temples ache, and the lights are burning my eyes. A jittery sensation has taken over my body and I have to hold my hands together to stop their trembling. From where I stand at the cage door, finally clothed in my black dress uniform, I say, “The Old Laws dictate that the bride should return to her natal home for instruction after the wedding. She’s supposed to return the next day.” That’s what happened after my wedding to Halfeather.
“Maybe for your kind,” Francesca retorts. “But not for ours. Send it away, husband.”
“Get into your cage,” Xander says without looking at me. “Pull the covers down.”
I crawl into my cage as slowly as possible and pet a waiting Eugene. A venom captures my heart as I turn around and catch sight of the married couple.
“Will you help me with this?” Francesca’s voice purrs.
“Of course.”
Nausea roils in my stomach as Xander helps her unlace her corset and extracts her veil from her high-set bun. Quickly, I flick down my blackout covering, but that doesn’t remove the sound of fabric or the low voices. Just when I think I’ll need to sink my fangs into my own arm, Xander says absently, “I need a shower.” The sound of him moving into the bathroom follows, and Francesca is left alone in the room.
Well, not completely alone, and I’m really glad she has no privacy. Eugene and I creep up to the bars, up to the crack in the covering and we peer at the dragon bride with interest. She sits on the bed in her sheer white slip, the glow of her phone illuminating the fact that she’s chewing a fingernail.
That’s a bad habit.
I sigh and curl up on the blankets with Eugene, and we wait in awful anticipation as Xander returns after his shower. I hold my breath, but instead of getting into bed?—
“I need to speak with my father,” Xander says tersely. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“What, right now?” Francesca protests. “Can’t it wait?”
“No,” Xander says firmly, already making his way to the door.
“You can’t do that!” she cries. “This is our wedding night! We have to consummate the marriage.”
“Later, Francesca,” Xander sighs irritably.
She makes an affronted noise. “My father will hear about this!”
“You speak with your father about having sex?” Xander says in a bored voice.
The door clicks shut before she can reply.
I exchange a happy grin with Eugene. “Don’t worry,” I call out through the coverings. “He hates everyone, not just you.”
Francesca makes a rude sound before storming into the bathroom.
This night, when I dream, it’s not like the other times when my serpentine magic draws upon the memories of my mates. This time, it has the feeling of something that’s being given to me.