Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Laughter rings across the gathering hall.
Torches and candles are burning in steel holders all across the large space, bathing it in a golden glow.
Warmth, both from the fire and the mass of people who crowd all available tables, practically thrums in the air around us.
I smile as Galen squeezes himself back down on the bench beside Lyra after setting down another round of drinks for us.
By the time we got to the gathering hall, the celebration was already in full swing. I had expected it to be a formal banquet-like event similar to what I saw in the Ice Palace. But by Mabona, was I wrong.
Every single table in here is packed with drunk dragon shifters who laugh loudly and cheer and joke and chat with everyone. There is no high table. No fancy dinner. Just people who are celebrating that Draven is back and that Bane Iceheart is dead.
Since we got here a little late, all the tables were taken except for a small table for four right next to the pipes that bring water into the kitchen a little to our left.
So the five of us have been squeezed together around that table for the past few hours.
Thankfully, at least no one asked why we were late.
It would’ve been very awkward to explain to his clan that we were late because we were busy defiling Draven’s throne in every possible position.
“What’s that noise?” Alistair asks.
I can barely hear him over the loud laughter and conversations all around us, let alone whatever noise he is referring to.
“That would be Lyra,” Galen says after taking a long drink of ale.
Lyra, who was busy checking which of the mugs contained the most alcohol, snaps her head up. “Hey, I was silent!”
“For once,” Draven says with a chuckle.
She narrows her eyes at him while trying to fight a smile. “Gotta concentrate when doing important stuff.”
“Like measuring which mug has the most ale in it?” I ask.
“Exactly. Like I said, important stuff.” Apparently satisfied with her inspection, she swipes the mug on the far left and takes a long drink. Then she lets out a contented sigh and smacks her lips before shooting Galen a pointed look. “So there was no noise.”
“Yes, there were,” Alistair protests. “It’s—”
A low rumbling sound comes from somewhere close by.
“That!” Alistair exclaims.
“Ah.” Understanding blows across Lyra’s face, and she grins before lifting her shoulders in a casual shrug. “Nothing a good banging can’t solve.”
Alistair blinks, looking startled. “Wait, what?”
“Banging. You know, on the pipes.” That absolutely villainous grin remains on her mouth as she motions towards the water pipes on the wall, which rumble faintly again.
Then she cocks her head, her orange eyes glittering in the firelight as she wiggles her eyebrows.
“But hey, I’m always down for all kinds of banging. ”
“Subtle,” Draven coughs under his breath.
Lyra shoots him a flat look. Alistair snatches up a mug and quickly hides behind an unnaturally long gulp of ale. On Lyra’s other side, Galen presses his lips together to stifle a laugh.
“Subtlety is for the weak,” Lyra declares, holding up a finger in the air.
“My grandma always says that subtlety is a waste of time when you could have—” Her eyes suddenly light up, and she abruptly stops speaking in the middle of the sentence.
Then she raises her voice and yells across the crowd. “You made it!”
We all turn to look in the direction she is yelling.
Five male dragon shifters have just walked in through the door.
All of them are wearing casual pants and shirts rather than armor, but they’re all incredibly muscular and move with unmistakable confidence.
Lyra jumps up onto the wooden bench she was sitting on and begins waving to draw their attention since they didn’t hear her shout over the loud laughter and chatter around us.
“That would be Lyra’s five older brothers,” Draven announces with poorly hidden amusement.
Alistair goes pale as a sheet.
“You know, I told Finlay I would come and find him,” Galen suddenly says. “To, uhm… discuss stuff.”
A knowing grin betrays his lie as he quickly grabs his mug and disappears while Draven and I get to our feet as well.
“And I was going to show Selena that thing,” Draven says, and begins walking away from the table.
“Draven,” Alistair blurts out, grabbing his wrist before he and I can get away.
Panic pulses across his entire face as he casts us a pleading look while Lyra continues waving to her brothers, who start towards us.
“Wait. Don’t leave. Please. I swear I won’t call you bossy pants for an entire month. Please stay.”
Draven effortlessly pulls his wrist from Alistair’s grip and gives him a glittering smile that is positively villainous. “Good luck, charmer.”
“No, wait. Don’t—”
We start slinking away.
“Draven,” Alistair growls under his breath, before casting another panicked glance at Lyra’s brothers. “You bastard, I will get you back for this.”
Turning so that he’s walking backwards, Draven shoots Alistair a grin full of challenge while nodding in the direction of Lyra’s brothers. “If you survive this, you know where to find me.”
“Draven. No, wait. I… Please. Don’t.” Alistair casts several panicked looks towards the five muscular dragon shifters who have almost reached the table now. Then he shoots me a desperate look while pleading, “Selena?”
I just laugh and wink at him.
“Oh Goddess help me,” I hear Alistair press out as he turns back towards the menacing guys heading straight for him.
Draven and I disappear out another door right as Lyra jumps down from the bench and throws her arms out as if to embrace all five of her brothers at the same time. They, however, have their sharp eyes fixed on Alistair.
“Oh, he’s so dead,” Draven says with a chuckle as we leave the packed gathering hall behind.
Cool night air washes over us as we start across the open square and towards Draven’s home. The murmur of cheerful voices grows fainter behind us as we move away from the celebration.
I almost feel a little bad for leaving Alistair to face the death squad alone.
But I’m hoping that it will finally shake him out of that weird limbo he’s in.
He obviously likes Lyra. It’s clear for everyone to see.
All he needs to do is to actually admit it to her.
And I really hope he does. I lost months with Draven just because I was too stubborn and terrified of my own emotions to admit it.
I don’t want Alistair to make the same mistake.
Draven doesn’t lead us towards those grand doors and the throne room that we have now desecrated several times. Instead, he takes us around the building and towards that private side door we entered through earlier.
When we walk in through the small garden that surrounds the mansion on this side, Draven gently draws his hand over two piles of stones as he passes them. He did the same thing when we walked by last time too, but he didn’t say anything about it.
Trailing to a halt in front of the small piles, I study them. But I can’t find anything significant about them. They’re made up of stones that have been stacked like a little pyramid, with wider stones at the bottom and then gradually getting smaller.
“What are they?” I ask softly.
Draven, who has almost reached the side door, turns back to look at me in surprise. Then he sees me watching the stones, and an expression I can’t read blows across his features for a second.
“What?” I ask, confused.
Dragging a hand through his hair, he walks back until he is standing next to me, facing the two stone piles. Then he heaves a small sigh and casts me a glance from the corner of his eye before he returns his attention to the stones.
“We don’t bury our dead,” he begins. “Just like you, we burn them. But instead of pouring the ashes into the River Andunir the way you do, we throw them into a strong wind and watch them drift out to sea. We have no graves. Instead, we build a small stone pyramid like this as a symbol of remembrance.” He swallows and then casts me one of those strange glances again before he finally finishes with, “These are my parent’s stone pyramids. ”
Grief and regret hit me like a gut punch.
It takes all of my willpower to keep my face a blank mask and to keep anything from leaking through our mate bond as the emotions I keep carefully sectioned-off suddenly crash down over me like a landslide.
Those vivid memories that Orion forced me to watch for twelve hours on end flash before my eyes in excruciating detail.
The resentment in their eyes. Then the fear and shock.
The ice shards and the cuts that were so deep that they almost decapitated them.
The blood. The thuds. The silver hair turning red.
And that awful voice echoing inside my skull that reminds me that I will never know.
That I will have to live the rest of my life with that horrible unanswered question forever fresh in my mind.
Did my parents really hate me? Or did I accidentally use my magic on them, which only forced them to hate me?
Did they actually love me? I will never know.
I will never know.
Oh Goddess, I will never know.
Those soul-crushing thoughts clang through my skull like death knells.
I drag in a highly controlled breath, trying to force my lungs to work again.
My chest tightens in panic. I need to use my magic. Just for a little while. Just a moment so that I can break this regret and grief that I’m drowning in. Flicking my gaze from side to side, I search desperately for someone to use my magic on.
Then panic hits me again. A different kind of panic.
Draven would never forgive me if I used my magic on his clan.
But I need it. Oh Goddess, I need that comforting warmth. Just a little boost. Just a little taste. Just a little—
“I’m sorry,” Draven says, wrapping his arms around me. “That’s why I didn’t say anything the first time.”
His embrace snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts enough that I manage to get a full breath down.
Mabona’s tits, pull yourself together, I growl silently at myself.
My heart slams against my ribs as I desperately try to get those intense urges under control. Draven holds me tightly to his chest while I draw in another breath and also try to force the crushing regret back behind the walls where it belongs.
“It’s okay,” I manage to press out.
Dragging in another breath, I pull back from his embrace and force a small smile onto my face. Draven doesn’t believe it for a second.
His eyes are soft as he draws a gentle hand over my cheek. “It’s okay to grieve, you know.”
I know. But what’s not okay is to use my magic on his people just because I can’t control my own emotions or resist the stupid side effects of my own damn magic. However, I can’t tell Draven that. I’m supposed to make his life easier. Not add more weight to his shoulders.
So instead, I say, “I know. I just don’t want to think about it right now.” Clearing my throat, I turn back to the two stone pyramids. “Back during the Atonement Trials, you mentioned that they died of natural causes when you were around sixty?”
Draven, who must sense that I need something else to focus on, watches me for another second before shifting his gaze to the stone piles as well. “Yes, that’s right.”
“They must have been pretty old when they had you then.”
“Yeah.” He lets out a fond laugh that makes my heart clench painfully again. “They were… free spirits.”
Surprise manages to break through the torrent of awful emotions in my chest. It distracts me enough that I finally manage to wrest the grief and regret back behind the walls where they belong. I drag in a breath, at last pulling myself together again.
With raised eyebrows, I turn to stare at Draven in stunned shock. “Free spirits? Your parents?”
“Yes.”
“Have you met you? How could a pair of free spirits create…” I wave my hands to indicate his commanding body and militaristic posture, “this?”
He laughs and gives me a soft shove that still manages to make me stumble to the side.
“Alright, smartass. Point taken. But it’s true.
They were explorers. They didn’t want to have kids since it would get in the way of their adventures.
But then when they were like nine hundred years old, they panicked and realized that they wanted to leave a legacy. ” He shrugs. “So they had me.”
“Well, they sure got a legacy.” I give him a sly look. “Leader of the Black Dragon Clan, Shadow of Death, and Commander of the Dread Legion.”
He mirrors my smirk, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Can’t argue with that.”
I laugh and give him a good-natured eye roll. He just smirks in reply. Sliding an arm around my shoulders, he starts us towards the door again.
“We won’t wait that long, though, right?” I ask as he pulls the door open.
Raising his eyebrows at me, he watches me walk across the threshold before following as well. “For what?”
“To have kids.”
He misses a step. Quickly straightening again, he hurries to catch up with me while a heart-wrenchingly tentative hope flickers in his eyes. “You want to have kids? With me?”
“Of course I do. After we have seen everything this world has to offer, I want to settle down and build a home with you. I want all of it, Draven. I want everything.”
Love shines in his eyes as he brushes his hand down my spine while we close the distance to the staircase that will take us up to his bedroom. “I do too.”
“Can you imagine? A bunch of miniature versions of you and me running around.”
A wonderful laugh escapes his mouth. The sound of it is so soothing that the final tightness in my chest at last disappears.
His eyes gleam in the candlelight as he shakes his head. “Oh, the world doesn’t stand a chance.”
I laugh and wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Perhaps we should start practicing then. So that we know what to do when it’s time to make those kids.”
A devilish smile tugs at his lips as he arches an eyebrow at me. “Coming three times on my throne earlier wasn’t enough for you?”
“If you can’t keep up, just admit that.”
“Watch that mouth, little rebel.” His eyes glitter, and that smirk full of wicked promises remains on his face. “Because now, I really will find another use for it.”
I let out a yelp as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. With a laugh, I declare, “Domineering, territorial bastard.”
He just slaps me on the ass and carries me into his bedroom.
But even as desire throbs inside me, all I can think about is how desperate I am for a boost of my magic.