Chapter Seventeen
Daire glanced over at the man sleeping beside him, the covers thrown back to display his glorious body and tattoos.
He hadn’t thought to wonder how tattoos worked on dragons, but delicate patterns seemed etched into the scales on Jimryr’s legs, chest, back, and even his wings.
All represented scenes from home, from dragon battles to the tall spires of the Andressian Mountains as seen from above.
This man had given such a wonderful gift. Daire flew! He actually flew! All because of Jimryr. Yes, his technique needed more work to compensate for the difference in his wings, but he flew! When he returned home, he wouldn’t be useless. Still maimed, yes. Useless, no.
If only Doc could see this moment. Doc. Something in Daire’s chest squeezed, sending the moment of joy to sorrow. Never again would Doc congratulate him on some minor accomplishment or encourage him to try harder.
Doc was gone. Daire’s only real tie to this world. Keith and Sheila both had partners and large, extended families. They’d be okay. Doc and Daire had only each other. Well, until Daire returned home, anyway.
Could he go back home? See his brothers again? His old friends? Did they still live?
Would Jimryr go back with him? Want to be part of his court?
Wait! What? They’d barely known each other any time at all.
However, most of the couples he’d known whose matings hadn’t been arranged by others said they’d realized they’d found the one within minutes of meeting each other.
Some of those in arranged situations often said the same.
But was Daire honestly thinking of taking back a mate? Something he’d sworn he’d never have? Yes. Yes, he was, if Jimryr would have him. Would he? Back home with plenty of dragons to choose from, why pick a scarred has-been?
Daire’s dragon rumbled softly in his mind, sending a clear picture of the ungainly pale dragon and practically drawing hearts around the image.
It wouldn't matter if Daire had a legion of suitors waiting for him, none would matter. He’d found the one he wanted.
It seemed his dragon had too. One who’d defended him even as a stranger, who’d tried to save Ywain.
An image came to mind of the pale dragon emerging from nowhere to knock the murderous alpha from the sky.
What a magnificent sight! Larger than most, maybe not as fast, maybe not as maneuverable, but still magnificent.
Daire would be proud to present Jimryr to his family.
He let out a sigh. No use thinking of what-ifs, not when he currently had no court.
No family, no position. Everything he’d ever considered his now gone.
Jimryr wanted to go back, join with the other court-less dragons and fight for the right to be independent if they chose, reform their former courts, or perhaps build new ones.
Was that so different from what Daire wanted: to return home, defeat his uncle, put High Reaches Court to rights with Elouan on the throne?
The deep internal connection to his siblings said yes, Elouan still lived, and Anrai, too. Would Sakaris come to take him back? Was Daire ready?
He must learn to fly on his own first if he expected to be worthy of being his brother’s trusted guard. Which brought him back to the original question: would Jimryr join High Reaches, or insist on staying an independent dragon?
Or would he want to return to the human realm?
No way to know without asking. What if he said no? Maybe now wasn’t the time.
Daire eased out of the bed as quietly as possible, dressing warmly and slipping out of the cabin to stand on the porch. Cold air kissed his cheeks. He huddled more deeply into his coat.
A full moon shone overhead. He used to love flying with his brothers and friends on nights like this. Jimryr had given a precious gift—the gift of flight, the gift of hope.
The door clicked behind him, and the scent of dragon warmed Daire from within. “Hey, darlin’. Whatcha doing out here?” Jimryr plastered his chest against Daire’s back, wrapping his arms around Daire and a quilt around them both.
“Yes,” Daire said, breath fogging before his face in the cool night air.
“Yes, what?”
A decision sprang to the forefront of Daire’s mind. Before he could stop them, out came the words, “I’ll join you. The team you’re building. Only, how will we get home?”
Jimryr nuzzled the back of Daire’s neck through layers of fabric.
“Thank you. I suspect that when the time is right, the crazy old mage will come get us. Or we’ll have to find our own way back.
Either way, I don’t intend to abandon our homeland.
” He lowered his voice to a mere whisper. “I need you to be with me.”
Daire turned in Jimryr’s arms to face him. “I can barely fly.”
Jimryr gave a nonchalant shrug. “You’ll get better. And haven’t you fought on the ground before? I’ve seen you practice. I don’t know another beta who can match you in human-form combat.”
“It’s all I had.” Deep inside, Daire preened at the compliment.
Jimryr jostled Daire within the blanket.
“It’s an advantage many others don’t have.
Never underestimate yourself. We need to build your wing strength, and, yeah, we might have to adjust certain methods, but I’ve been adjusting my whole life because of my dragon’s size and…
my injury. There’s nothing wrong with playing to your strengths. ”
The biggest strength Daire had right now was standing in front of him. He wouldn’t ask about the hand injury. No, best to wait until Jimryr felt like talking.
“Come with me.” Jimryr stepped away, wriggling his fingers.
“What?” Jimryr led Daire by the hand to a different cliff from the one they’d launched from earlier. Jimryr sat, patting the ground, until Daire nestled next to him. He should be freezing, but two dragons within a quilt produced a lot of heat.
Shimmering patterns of light played across the sky, creating an eerie, undulating green glow. “Wow! It’s gorgeous.” Daire settled the blanket more firmly over both of them.
“I’ve come here many times,” Jimryr murmured, reverence in his voice. “This is where we practice. I must admit, familiarity on the last few trips made me scarcely notice the lights. Seeing them for the first time again through your eyes brings back a sense of wonder.”
The Aurora Borealis, something Daire had heard of but never hoped to see, combined with the satisfaction of sharing the event with another.
And flying. He’d flown. Not very well, but he’d get better. He had to if he hoped to have a mating flight with Jimryr one day.
Daire managed a bit more flying on his own by the end of the second day. His muscles ached from years of relative idleness and scar tissue stretching, but his poor wings bore him well for gliding.
Jimryr flew beneath him at first, then beside him, close enough to assist if needed. A crosswind buffeted Daire’s wings. He rolled, then righted himself. Gotta be more careful.
Jimryr eased out from under him as if he hadn’t braced for impact.
In a teasing moment, Daire brought his wings in, plunging downward. Jimryr dove. Daire repeated the action three more times, showing his intent. They were lovers, after all. Why not do a little mid-air flirting?
Jimryr kept pace, rolling in midair, winging away, then returning to brush a wingtip down Daire’s long neck.
Daire shivered, diving again. A small lake below looked inviting. He raked his talons over the surface, marveling at the ripples, at his and Jimryr’s reflections on the water in the moonlight, Jimryr appearing over his shoulder, keeping pace.
The Northern Lights lit the sky in rippling green. They rose together as one, riding the breeze, cavorting around each other like two fledglings, though Jimryr did most of the cavorting. Daire still had to focus on staying aloft.
He flew again, something he never thought he’d do—all at Jimryr’s urging. What a wonderful gift! Daire wanted to give Jimryr a gift in return: every ounce of his being. Jimryr’s sensitive neck scales felt so right against Daire’s when he leaned in again, knowing full well what he asked.
How would Jimryr answer?
Daire flitted away as fast as he dared, Jimryr following close behind but not too close, maintaining the illusion of a frenzied pursuit.
Daire dove again, the invitation clear. Jimryr bugled in triumph, connecting with Daire’s back, though not as hard as most dragons would.
What was Daire doing? Did Jimryr truly want this? Was he forcing someone to officially become his mate before they were ready?
“No,” Jimryr purred into Daire’s mind. “I’d have asked sooner if I thought you’d agree.” How was Jimryr communicating with him mind to mind if they weren’t mated yet?
Maybe the bite was a mere gesture, like a ceremony, once a bond had already formed. The question didn’t matter when Jimryr latched his fangs onto the scales of Daire’s neck.
The shock of the bite made Daire falter, but Jimryr wouldn’t let him fall. Would never let Daire fall. Jimryr twined his neck and tail around Daire’s, plunging his cock into Daire’s willing body. Together, they spread their wings, slowing their descent.
Goddess! How good! How right! Nothing else mattered in the moment but the two of them, the silent vows they made with their bodies and fangs, their twin roars when they reached completion.
All the what-ifs and reservations vanished as Daire and Jimryr rode the winds, their minds already connected as surely as their bodies.
Daire lay in bed, reliving the night before. Mate. He had a mate. One he’d never have seen himself with in his younger days. And not just any mate—Jimryr, someone he could always count on. He shivered, but not from cold. He’d never felt happier or more complete.
The wonderful scent of coffee lured him into the main part of the cabin. Jimryr sat on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, sipping from a chipped mug. Outside the window, gentle snow drifted down.
“It’s snowing!” Daire exclaimed with all the wonder of a fledgling.
Jimryr grinned. “Yes, it is. Sit, let me get you some coffee.”