Chapter Twenty-Two
Ghreid
Draenvir, green of scale, dark hair pinned back at his temples, leaned over a plate, feeding on their stores of dried meat like a starving man, barely a breath between bites.
“The butcher is bringing meat, and dinner is still twenty off. Will you be fine?” Ghreid rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder and earned a bob of his head, his many-pointed horns bobbing in a nod.
He swallowed roughly and reached for the pitcher of water, drinking deeply before taking a breath. “I will be. Galatan found them. He’s been in the catacombs for weeks.”
“What’s he doing down there? Is he trying to sleep again?” Ghreid squeezed his brother’s shoulder and let loose a shaking breath. Every dragon knew that sleep could be the last time anyone saw a sleeper alive. The sleep came with goodbyes, and waking came with new beginnings.
“No. The sleeper you found. We can’t find any information on him, and when he wakes, he’s going to be confused. He’s sure the boy will wake soon.” Draenvir shook his head and took another bite.
“I thought it’d be easier… We knew… Sometimes.” Ghreid shook his head.
“Same,” Draenvir sighed as he put a handful of meat down and shook his head. “Fuck, it’s always like I’m a bottomless pit.”
“In the old days, we’d just eat a few cows and maybe the farmer.” Ghreid tried to offer a half smile that fell flat.
“I’ve never eaten a human. Bet they taste awful.” Draenvir shook his head.
“Nor have I. But Rath has. Ate two right before his wedding, I heard. Asha’s would-be-father and one of his mongering sons.” Ghreid snorted.
“Good gods. It’s the truth. The earl’s dick had been in everyone in the keep!” Draenvir choked as Rydel darkened the dining hall’s doorway, Varis behind him. “Bugger… Apologies for my foul lan—”
Ghreid stood, his chair scooting with a loud squeak. Black was not a color that suited his mate, but it was tradition. Black tunic, black trousers. He donned silver instead of gold for his jewels, all save for the chains on his horns.
Draenvir must have noticed too, his breath catching. The only sound in the room was Ghreid’s thundering heartbeat pulsing in his ears. “Varis? Your coronet…”
Rydel bowed once, a poor substitute for words. His duty as an attendant, valet, and advisor was unparalleled. If he’d put that chain on Varis, then he must have known. And by that measure, Varis would know, too. Doesn’t he?
As if answering Ghreid’s thoughts, Varis gave the smallest of nods, but there was hardly any joy in his face.
Ghreid took a step forward, heart thundering in his chest, then another. With open arms, he closed the gap and wrapped his arms tight around him. He whispered low into Varis’s ear. “Why the uncertainty?”
Varis took a long, deep breath and tilted his head, their horns clicking and gliding together with a strange vibration that rippled through Ghreid. “It is not a custom I understand. I feel guilt. But that is not cause for my uncertainty. It’s how I know. This causes me hesitation.”
Ghreid gripped Varis and huffed a single breath. “The fates or gods speak to dragons, not all dragons, but we act on their will. The fates gave us our dreams to find one another. The fates spoke to Galatan after his mate passed. What words were given to you?”
Varis took a deep breath and hugged Ghreid back. “That a new era rises, and we’ll carry them well into the new world. Also, to give Falustus the temple.”
Ghreid hesitated and blinked a few times. “Well, then. He’s always wanted to have an orgy in a ritual anointment bath…”
“I will refrain from comment.” Varis took Ghreid’s hand and kissed the back of it with a sweet gesture.
Draenvir sighed heavily. “Tonight, we mourn. I’ll fly home—borrow a wyvern tomorrow. Graylan will stay a few days if the news is as we think.”
Ghreiden escorted Varis to the table, pulling his seat out with extra care. Everything about Varis seemed more fragile all of a sudden. Something as delicate as an egg—eggs. Thin shells. Vulnerable life beneath nothing more than a few inches of soft flesh.
Ghreid, consumed by the grief of his parents’ death and overjoyed by their potential rebirth, the fullness of life within his mate, the consummation of their lives.
They had territory, would have children, and would bring strong life into the world.
“The duality of life and death revolves around the bearer.”
“Tell me what I should be feeling.” Varis put his hands on the table, fingers spread.
“Pride.” Ghreid leaned down to kiss the top of his head and sat beside him.
“Joy. Love. Honestly, my namesake fits me at the moment. Mated with young on the way. We already said our goodbyes to Mother and Father. In you, they will be Inessa and Kineer once more.”
Varis shivered when Ghreid took his hand. “I don’t feel right. I feel as if our news overshadows the death, like I have stolen them.”
“Do not feel that way. I flew here as I did for one reason alone, because I prayed you carried. Was it not what I asked you when you greeted me?” Draenvir daubed at his mouth before standing with a polite nod. “Now, excuse me. I’ve a letter to write and something to attend to.”
Draenvir gave him a huff and a gesture that Varis took as a dismissal.
“It’s wonderful news. Honestly, we know death comes for sleepers.
The mourning is for respect.” Ghreid leaned over to give Varis a kiss.
Without his brother there, it went from chaste to something more.
Varis’s scent, sweeter, warmer, full of salt and mystery, made Ghreid want to put the male in his hoard, decorate him with treasure, make love to him with his mouth and hands alone.
Ghreid deserved no pleasure for himself, for all he had would be Varis’s.
“Anything you wish for, I will give you. Anything.”
A twisted look flitted over Varis’s face. “Fuck me…”
“Gladly.” Ghreid moved to stand, and Varis waved him off.
“No. Not… Are the kitchens cooking fish?” Varis sighed heavily, face twisted in rue. He swallowed hard.
“Are you ill? Do I need to ban it from being cooked? It was easy meat for Envi because of his flight. I, of course, had something cooked separate for you. I think it was lam—” Ghreid stood, pushing his chair back, and Varis sighed heavily, letting his head fall forward onto the table.
“No! An hour ago, I was fine and now, I’m anxious and I feel things and I’m certain it’s in my head, but why would I torture myself so?” Varis let loose a fake sob.
“My mate?” Ghreid hesitated, unsure of what to do. Varis’s feelings were complicated; everything twisted into place with confusion.
“I desperately want fish for dinner,” Varis whined.
“I thought you said you never wanted it again?” Ghreid hesitated.
“And now, it sounds good and I hate that. Badly.” Varis heaved a sigh and lifted his head with a deep breath. “And this is what I get for being pregnant.”
Ghreid wanted to correct him, to tell him he was gravid. He carried, not gestated. In his belly lay the vessels, not the flesh. Words didn’t come, only a confused gasp from the doorway. Rydel, burying a sideways smirk, escorted himself out as Mykel and Finem stood dumbfounded in the doorway.
Finem spoke first. “Truly?”
Varis heaved a broken growl of frustration. “This Graylan person needs to confirm this for me as soon as possible because I have a feeling this is going to be a lot less glamorous than I imagined.”
“Asha could have told you that,” Ghreid said, a laugh bubbling in his chest.
“He told me—” Varis glanced at his fathers and cleared his throat. “Things.”
“Asha did have a rather comfortable nesting. But Graylan will be here soon. I promise.” Ghreid excused himself with a polite bow and made his way to the kitchens. He needed to ask for more fish to be served.
Fish for their two little fish to be born, dragons with penchants for water. Perhaps they did not need to be named in kind. Maybe the fates would speak otherwise.