CHAPTER THIRTY
FOR HOURS I'VE SAT IN silence, watching Ravina hammer the red-hot metal with a look of grim determination. Sweat pours off her brow and her skin is dirtied by ash and grime, yet she’s never looked more beautiful.
Seeing her work with weapons like this is doing something to me—I want to touch her… and I want her to touch me, too.
The few times we have touched, the normal pain, fear and anger wasn’t present.
It’s given me some hope, but I can’t risk hurting her.
It would end me. Though this infernal urge to wrap the tiny warrior up in my arms is becoming almost unbearable the longer I’m around her.
I should stay away… I really should but I can’t, no matter how much I try.
“You need to hit the metal harder. This is dragonstone, not plain old silver or iron,” the blacksmith coaches her.
Sparks fly as she hits her blade again, the tiny specks of flame changing colour each time she infuses a bit more of her magick into the sword.
I know she was annoyed we didn’t tell her about her part in this, but with all the ears in the castle we didn’t want to, just in case.
Somehow the magick in the swords makes it easier to use, like it works in tune with our magick types.
With my Vopn Fo magick infused into mine, it makes me almost invincible.
Aemon’s blade can hold shadows for himself to use; it’s why he can shadow small amounts in the sun when he has his blade on him.
Jesper’s sword can duplicate, making it seem like an illusion though it’s not.
While Talyn can use the elements on his sword—he prefers flames though, with and without his blade.
It makes me wonder what her weapon will be able to do when it’s finished. After we check out the front lines, we will have to get her to test it out, maybe at our old haunt on the islands not far from here. But that will have to wait until our families make it safely to Vathia.
Fear and hope at seeing my mother almost overwhelm me before I shove it deep into the box in the back of my mind. That’s not something I need to think about right now.
“She’s magnificent,” Jesper murmurs.
Aemon nods, sipping on an ale. “You have no idea,” he mutters, his eyes heating, and a sharp pang of jealousy hits me.
“Nothing to say?” Jesper pokes me. “You haven’t taken your eyes off our pretty Little Beastie since we got in here.”
He’s partially right. I haven’t removed them from her since she’s been in my presence. Like some part of me is scared she’s going to slip away. I grunt at him which makes him laugh.
I turn my attention to Aemon. “Did you bring the gems?”
He pats his pouch at his side. “Of course.”
Nodding, I focus my attention back on the female who stole my heart, even if she doesn’t know it yet. Even if I can’t act on it.
My mind trails back to that kiss I shared with her on the library floor—how soft and small she was in my arms, how her kiss tasted like storms. My cock begins to thicken but I will my mind away from her soft lips. It can’t ever happen.
The blacksmith’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
“Okay, you can stop. I can handle the rest. I’ve sketched some hilt designs.
I just need you to choose one, and then once that’s finished we can add the finishing touches.
” He glances over at us. “I’ll need one of you to mold her hand so I can customize it to her grip while I do this, since we don’t have much time. ”
“I’ll do it,” I find myself piping up.
Ravina’s big sapphire eyes widen in surprise, and a small tilt to her lip makes my heart stutter.
I clear my throat. “Weapons are my specialty,” I add for some reason, even though they all already know it.
I rise to my feet and walk over to the smith who’s holding a thick block of moss that holds imprints when squeezed, and take it from him gently. We turn and watch Ravina as she looks thoughtfully at the three sketches placed in front of her.
Finally after a few moments she turns to us. “I really like the design on this one, but this hilt… is that something we can combine?”
The smith takes a moment to consider her request and then nods. “We can make that work. I would be honored to make the adjustments to the designs.” He takes the paper and heads over to his workspace, leaving the four of us alone for the first time since we got here.
Aemon excuses himself for a moment, following after the smith.
I move slowly over to Ravina. “Okay, Little Warrior, I need you to squeeze this gently so I can work on the handle.”
She eyes the moss block curiously. “Is there a reason for this? Other than it fitting to my hand?”
“If anyone else tries to use it, it wouldn’t feel comfortable or balanced in their grip,” I explain.
Without saying another word, she keeps her gaze on me and places her hand on the block, squeezing it. When she pulls away, I can’t help but smirk at the small print that’s there.
“What’s so funny?” she asks, crossing her arms across her chest.
I try to run my hands through my hair but my fingers get caught in the braids. “Nothing, it just amazes me how small you are. It’s cute.” The last part slips out and I inwardly curse. Being around her makes my tongue loose.
She scoffs and smiles. “It’s not my fault you’re abnormally large,” she states, gesturing to my height before wiping sweat off her brow.
I smirk. A comment pops into my mind but thankfully I have the sense to hold my tongue. “Come on, let’s get you some water.”
Jesper laughs before whispering something in her ear, which makes her gaze widen, darting to my crotch, her cheeks turning a dark shade of pink before she whips her gaze away and clears her throat.
My lip twitches—it’s clear that Jesper did the commenting for me.
Aemon passes her a canteen which she chugs back greedily. “I got her a room at the inn around the corner. I’ll take her to get cleaned up and rest, because as soon as the sword’s done we are heading out.”
I dip my head and go to move away to get to work with the moss, but a small hand grips my arm.
My body freezes reflexively and then relaxes almost instantly.
“Thank you for helping with this, Kill. I really appreciate it.” She covers her mouth as she lets out a huge yawn.
My voice comes out gruff yet more tender than I’ve ever heard it, shocking me. “Go on Little Warrior, get some rest.”
She nods and slips her hand into Aemon’s as he follows her. I watch her leave and Jesper slides up beside me.
“She’s something, isn’t she?” he says joyfully, with a type of reverence I’ve only heard him use with her.
I stare down at the small imprint of her hand. “She’s more precious than any gem this realm has to offer.”
THE BLACKSMITH AND I work late into the night and, at last, he places the final gem into the center of the custom hilt.
“The sugilite gems will suit her well,” he says as he steps back from the sword, the black blade with silver and bronze veins resting on the table between us. The purple stone works beautifully with the overall appearance of the blade.
I grunt in acknowledgement as I pick up the sword, sliding it into a specially made sheath, then wrapping it in a blanket. Aemon, Jesper and I all pitched in to pay the smith for his work; even Talyn slipped some in there when he thought we weren’t looking.
He shakes his head. “No, it was an honor crafting a sword of this caliber for our Queen. She was a pleasure to work with. I couldn’t take payment.”
I drop the pouch of coins onto his work table.
“She would be offended if you weren’t paid for your work.
” And she would be. I remember when her parents let us out into the city of Maleen; fledgelings are treasured, and even more so their princess, so there wasn’t any risk to us.
Everywhere we went they tried to waive payment, and she demanded that they take her coin.
I don’t think that has changed even now, and she would have my balls if I didn’t pay the male.
“If you’re sure,” he says slowly, glancing hesitantly at the coin pouch.
“You’re saving my balls,” I tell him seriously.
He chuckles at that. “Well, tell her thank you, and if she needs any more metalwork done, I’d be more than happy to assist.”
I dip my head in acknowledgement and leave the forge, deciding to head to the inn and get some rest before the long trip in just a few hours.
THE FLIGHT IS long indeed—it’s taken us a few days to get to the front line. The skies are clear and the realm seems quiet. Too quiet. It is like the kingdom itself is holding its breath.
Voissor’s red scales glint beneath me as we soar over the large encampment that holds Vathian troops. Blue and white banners of Aemon’s province are prominent even from these great heights while canopy tents, both large and small, cover the ground.
Ahead, Talyn signals our wing to land on the southern part of the encampment, ensuring that first we fly over the entirety of the troops to inform them of our arrival—even though they likely knew before we left the embankment of the clouds.
Voissor’s voice rumbles through me. “Mmm. The air smells of violence. My teeth are ready to shred our enemies and protect our mates. When shall we battle?”
My fists tighten on the reins as we land, and we make sure to squeeze between Vasari and Evisdor—clingy bastard. “We are just here to check things out and boost morale,” I remind him, before dismounting.
He’s been even more bloodthirsty than normal since he’s reconnected with his mate. It doesn’t surprise me that our beasts’ mate matches the riders’. Fate seems to work mysteriously that way, but it has been frustrating trying to keep my magick in check when it craves violence.
I leave him to his grumbling as I move away from him and toward the others.