Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BALE
I shouldn’t, but I can’t help following Idallia when I see her and Fyrestar fly past my mountaintop lair flanked by Rimblaze and Embersol.
I still haven’t let her get back to training yet, although she’s been diligent about building up her strength and was probably ready a few days ago.
Now she’s getting restless, and that’ll turn into aggression before long—especially toward me.
She hears me land in the meadow next to Upper Drayke Lake and cracks open an eye as I shift into skin, but then she goes back to sunbathing as if I’m not even there.
The irritation rising in me at her apparent indifference fades like an eagle’s cry on the wind as I move closer.
She’s lying in the grass with her warbirds surrounding her.
Her hair is down, the long black locks a silken pillow.
My breath hitches. The sheer beauty of them together.
Idallia so cool and pale and dark-haired, and the birds so bright and colorful and burning.
The phoenixes watch me approach, even if Idallia doesn’t.
My affection for these birds is boundless.
Not only did I create them, but they’re the ones I know best. They flew with me until Idallia was ready for them.
My feelings for her are more complicated.
There’s affection, but that doesn’t account for the tumble in my stomach when I see her or the ever-increasing need to seek her out.
“Do you know the origin of your name?” I ask, sitting beside her. I lean back on my elbows and cross my legs at the ankles, soaking up the same rays as Idallia.
“No.” She turns her head toward me, her golden eyes opening. She shades them with a hand, adding, “I’ve never really thought about it. I know I came with a name. I didn’t think about it having a meaning.”
“You never looked it up?”
She shrugs. “My early schooling was an odd mix—whatever an available private tutor knew or wanted to teach me. My later schooling was all about weapons and war and protecting Torridaig. If you want, I can list every border city and give their approximate population and the specific dangers they face. But I didn’t know my name meant anything and never thought to look it up. ”
“It means behold the sun.” I glance up, squinting. Today is one of those bright autumn days when not even a wisp of a cloud streaks the sky, and the sharp, dry air warmed by the still-strong sun feels like a glorious contradiction.
“Is that why you’re always telling me to get some sunshine?” Her question is clearly baited, but I don’t bite.
“Sunshine is good for everyone.”
“Not for vampires,” she says dryly.
I grunt a nonanswer, my gaze straying to the still-healing bite marks on her neck. “Are you up for sparring?” I ask. I might be changing the subject. I might also be trying to get my hands on her.
She frowns up at me, her eyes narrowing under the shadow of her hand. “You’re the one who won’t let me join training.”
“You’re ready now, though. Aren’t you?”
She sits up so fast I barely see her move, intensely eager.
She’s intense about everything, which makes me wonder how Rita and Gerard could so easily ignore her.
I didn’t know about their indifference—not until their role was mostly finished, and it was too late to undo the damage.
Formative years stick—I know that better than anyone.
“I was ready days ago. Now I’m just bored. ”
Laughter rumbles out of me. “I didn’t want to rush it.”
Her face suddenly falls. “But I don’t have a hair tie or pins. I’ll…” She glances at Fyrestar.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make an exception.” I harden my voice. “This time.”
She stands, already bouncing on the balls of her feet, itching to fight. “I only have knives.”
She was expecting a lazy afternoon at the lake with her phoenixes. Instead, she got me—and likely an invitation to disaster.
“Knives it is, then.” I stand with her, then nod to her birds. “You three can go hunt for lunch. I’ll bring Idallia home.”
She goes still, gaping at me. “Flying?”
My heart cramps impressively. “Did you want to walk?” I ask gruffly, my chest tight enough to strangle my voice.
She shakes her head, her eyes so wide they swallow me whole. I hear her heart pound. At least she can’t hear mine.
Fyrestar glances at Idallia. It takes her reassuring nod for the phoenixes to actually leave.
I unwind a little once they disappear into the trees. It borders on childish, but I had her all to myself that night after her scream, and I’ve been craving her companionship ever since. If her birds are here, I’ll come last. I want to come first, even if it’s only for an hour.
She rolls her shoulders and unsheathes her knives. “I might be a little rusty.”
And I might be suffering from highly distracting thoughts and feelings.
I infuse my expression with wolfish aggression, trying to hide my turbulent mood. “I’ll go easy on you, Sunshine.”
She looks over sharply. “I’ve never had a nickname before.”
“Never?” My blood heats.
She shakes her head. “Not even something ridiculous, like shortening Idallia to Dally.”
I laugh without meaning to. “Would you have wanted that?”
She twirls her knives, looking thoughtful. “Yes and no. I’d hate it, but at least it would make me feel special.” She slows, her eyes widening as she seems to realize what she just revealed. Color splashes across her cheeks, and I do my best not to react and make her feel more awkward.
Great fucking stars. I need to stop. Or else…
commit to the course. The way her blood rushes in her veins, her heartbeat thunders in my ears, and her flushed skin heats the air around us, spreading her scent, overloads my senses.
She’s clearly affected by me—there’s no doubt in my mind now—and I don’t want to resist anymore.
But don’t I have to? Especially while I still hold her most vital truths.
Withhold them.
Tension gripping me down to my deepest layer, I clench my jaw and start circling her like a predator. The analogy is apt. I am a hunter, and she’s everyone’s prey. She just doesn’t know it.
Idallia circles, wary of my slow steps. Her mind might be trying to concentrate on sparring, but her body is exactly where mine is—utterly aware of the person in front of her.
Her usual scents of sunshine and ice fade under something warmer and muskier.
Heat floods my groin. My nostrils flare on a long inhalation, drawing the perfume of her arousal deep inside.
Confusion darts across her face, and she swallows. Does she know her body is throwing off mating scents that drive me wild?
“What’s working so hard in that mind of yours?” I ask softly. Shadows seep from me, my dragon reaching for her. I let the darkness surround me and nearly touch her.
She shivers, her gaze snagging on the manifestation of my dragon. “Your shadows always look like they should be empty and cold, but they’re not. They’re hot and alive.”
And I want her to walk right into them. “I thought you’d be planning your strategy.”
She steadies her breathing, her focus returning to my face. “I am. Just trying to decide the best way to put you at a disadvantage.”
I think she meant to toss that at me, taunting. She purrs it instead, and heat sinks through me like molten lead, turning my limbs heavy.
My voice a deepening rasp, I say, “I think you’ve already done that.
” My gaze flicks over her. She’s small compared to dragon shifters.
Her body is strong and lithe, making her curves almost a surprise and impossible to ignore.
Her features are delicate but well defined, and her golden eyes are highly unusual and pure starlight, but maybe only I see that because I know what to look for.
The truth is, Idallia is as starborn as I am.
She seems almost shaken by my answer and watches me warily.
I watch her back with intensity, absorbing every detail of the woman who should be ruling her own kingdom right now.
Her pale skin contrasts with jet-black hair, lashes, and brows, and she has the reddest lips in all Ellonrift, as if her body knows they should be stained red with the blood she’d be drinking if I hadn’t stolen her from Rannigan and thrust her into the sun.
Those blood-red lips part on a shallow inhalation that stirs a lustful hunger deep within me. “How so?” she asks huskily.
“Your hair is so shiny it blinds me. Shiny and black and smooth.”
“Dragons like shiny things,” she murmurs, more sweet-scented warmth billowing off her.
“Exactly.” I hear the roughness in my voice, my dragon deepening it as fire climbs up my throat. I don’t usually have trouble keeping the two parts of me separate, but right now I barely feel in control. “When I pounce on you, I’m going to grab hold of that shiny hair, and I might not let go.”
She forgets to circle, letting me get close enough to smell her deepening musk so strongly my cock twitches in my pants.
She clears her throat, remembering to move again. “Hair pulling is for school children.”
My mouth lifts in a predatory smile. “Then I guess I’m about to school you.”
I lunge so fast that she barely has time to bring up both knives and stop my downward strike. She stumbles back from the ringing blow, and I follow up so quickly that I get in a hit with the flat of my blade.
Her eyes narrow as she backs out of my reach. But my reach can be longer than an arm, and I let my dragon out little by little until there’s a full shadow dragon looming over her.
She watches, her golden eyes riveted. “You never said it was two against one.”
“I never said it wasn’t.” I lash out with my shadow tail, firming it up at the last second, and sweep her off her feet.
She lands with a grunt. “I guess that’s solid.”
So is something else. I refrain from the comment and attack while I pull my dragon back in. The man needs to be in control of the beast, and if that’s too hard, I need to leave.