Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
My thumb brushed along her lower lip. She opened further, right on cue. I pressed between her teeth, and she closed around the digit. Warm, wet, slow—she dragged her tongue over the pad in a greedy stroke.
A groan tore loose from my chest. Fire raced under my skin. Control shattered. I yanked my hand away and claimed her in a bruising kiss. No patience—only demand, hunger, denial. I crushed against that cursed armor, chasing friction, craving the soft give of her body beneath mine.
She whimpered. Nails bit into my skin. “Kallias,” she breathed, muffled under my embrace.
I froze, stepped back, hands raised.
“Elohios, help me,” I muttered. I wanted her too much. That cursed belt was the only thing keeping me from losing every scrap of sense.
“We need to get to the Spire,” she panted, still lost in the dark. A soft scrape of motion. A muffled curse.
“Don’t move.” I hissed, cursing myself for my own foolishness. Gods, how did men get anything done when they had wives that they were actually attracted to? I adjusted my too tight trousers, grimacing against the blinding need that coursed through my veins.
Using my hands, I doubled over, searching for my spear, hoping I didn’t find it blade first. My fingers brushed against the soft leather of my shoes before finding cold steel. Letting out a sigh of relief, I straightened, leaving the tip pointing to the floor in the darkness.
“There, now.”
Her hands found my arm, clutching my tunic as I led her back to the stairs.
The city was eerily quiet, and I scanned each street we passed, looking for any sign of life.
“They’re all waiting at the palace,” she said.
She wore a snow-white dress. The way it hung off her shoulders, it exposed collarbones I could take days exploring. It narrowed at her waist, bound by a skirt of metal scales. It hung in overlapping steel diamonds. Longest in the front and back, where a man would be tempted to lift them.
It jingled as we walked through the barren streets, after we stopped to pull on my boots. When we strode into the clearing, cheers erupted from the gathered crowd as if they were just as surprised as I was that I found Nienna.
I felt exposed, naked, without my mantle. Regardless of how I was supposed to present myself at this time, I was so used to wearing it in front of people that my skin heated, and I cursed the blush of shame that curled up my neck.
Thousands of people were gathered in the clearing, more than were there for the Awakening, all standing on their feet, pressing against each other.
Argos waited at the Spire’s base, growling low in his throat. A command. An invitation. A promise of space from the crush of bodies. Other dragons flew around overhead in lazy circles, a myriad of colors.
I led Nienna up the stairs, offering a quick bow to Argos, though it was Tsunami who guided me to the princess.
“Well done, Kallias Sunspear.” Nereus’ voice boomed, bolstered with magic no doubt. “You’ve brought my daughter back to us.”
There were red blossoms where my facial hair had lightly scuffed her skin across her cheeks and shoulders in passion.
“I claim Nienna Draconis as my bride.” I called out for the crowd’s sake. Greaves stood at the edge, his face a careful mask—but he knew why I was uncomfortable.
“And you shall have her.” Nereus threw his arm wide and we walked into the crowded Spire. As much as I wanted it to be over there, it was only the beginning.
Greaves fastened the last chain of my mantle, his hard brown eyes locked on mine. His fingers lingered at the clasp, full of the things he couldn’t say out loud.
I wasn’t replacing him. This was no trade. I was taking a wife—a partner who could stand beside me in court, speak her mind, bear the throne’s weight with me. He would still be there, always behind me, silent and steady. A shadow in my wake. A blade in the dark.
I placed my hand over his, gripping hard before letting go. He didn’t need words. He knew his role—protecting me, guarding Nienna. After a moment, he stepped back and dropped into a deep bow.
My chest tightened. He did it to honor me, but all I wanted was to pull him upright and hold on.
My whole life was about to change, but he’d remain. The constant I could always count on.
Draped in Radaanian green, my mantle polished to a gleam, I strode from my rooms toward the throne room.
The space was packed—children perched on shoulders, civilians pressed shoulder to shoulder, eager to fill every last gap.
They resembled restless sheep in their excitement.
The walls remained bare for now—festivities would come later.
Jaw clenched, I cut through the crowd toward the bright landing. Nienna stood there with her parents, Argos curled at the edge like a coiled beast. His bulk seemed ready to snap the platform in half. When I approached, he lowered his head just slightly, baring a single fang in displeasure.
“Welcome, Kallias Sunspear,” Nereus called, his palm resting on Nienna’s arm.
“You ask for our daughter’s hand in marriage,” Nyxaria said, lifting her chin. Her pale fingers wound tightly with her daughter’s—a quiet reminder that it wasn’t just her father giving her away.
“I do.” I stopped before them, ignoring Argos’ grumble. My feet braced wide as I met their eyes. “I negotiated for her name. Earned your dragons’ favor. Found her in the way a man finds his mate. I’ve asked. I’ve come to claim her.”
“Do you vow to protect her,” Nereus said, “as fiercely as a dragon guards its young?”
“I so swear.”
Nienna’s nostrils flared. Her breath caught, eyes glimmering with barely contained emotion. She tried to hold her mask together. Part of me longed to shield her, let her rebuild that wall. The rest wanted to see it crack. I needed that fire inside her unchained.
“And will you give her your unbound love,” her mother asked, “as deep and endless as the ocean?”
Her peridot eyes dared me to falter. One hesitation, and she’d call it all off.
But I already loved Nienna. Our bond had kindled across the sea, igniting a wildfire neither of us could control.
“I so give it.” My chin dipped in respect to her mother’s demand.
“And you, Nienna,” Nereus said, turning to her with both hands holding hers. “Will you take Kallias Sunspear in marriage? Do you wish for this?”
A tight smile curved her mouth. A single tear slipped down her cheek. She was saying goodbye. I would offer her the world, but she would lose part of hers to accept it.
Doubt spiked through my ribs, waiting.
“I ask for nothing less than to be given to the King of Radaan.”
I forced a steady breath, locking my spine as the heat of the sun baked across my shoulders. Sweat beaded along my collar, but I didn’t move.
She turned to her mother. Nyxaria pulled her in, kissed her forehead, then cradled her cheeks. A slow grin. A small nod.
“Then you are given.”
Nienna faced me, cheeks glowing with color. Her smile spread—brilliant and bold. Chin high, eyes fierce. My princess. Born to fill ballrooms and bend nations to her will. She stepped forward with confidence in her stride and dipped into a deep curtsy.
“I, Kallias Sunspear, Chosen of the Gods, Golden Warrior of Elohios, choose Nienna Draconis—the Dragon’s Heart—as Radaan’s queen.” The words rang strong, sure. No tremble. No doubt. I would have her, if she still wanted me.
Fallione stepped forward, a silk-draped pillow in hand. My pulse pounded behind my eyes. One twitch. Then another. Nienna had promised to wear it—but what if she hated it? What if she refused, here, in front of them all?
What if I was making the same mistake again?
I pulled the velvet cover off in a flourish. Sunlight caught on gold, the scales casting radiance across the dark stone. I lifted the smaller mantle. Chains fine as thread, delicate and glinting.
She didn’t flinch. Determination gleamed in her eyes as she met my stare. Her chin tipped upward. Spine straight. She was ready—unlike Eldeiade, she welcomed this.
The metal cooled my fingers as I eased it over her shoulders. The chains shimmered between her shoulder blades, linking the pauldrons in place. Mine were thick, layered with carved gold plates. Hers gleamed with coin-sized scales, shaped like dragonhide—graceful but strong.
I took my time fastening each clasp. With each one I stopped, waiting for her to take it back, to change her mind or tell me she didn’t want it.
Yet she never did.
When I hooked the final chain, something shifted in my chest—a deep, resonant note of finality. It was done. No undoing it now. Not after the treaty. Not after the ceremony. After yoking her to Radaan’s future—she was mine, and I was hers.
She laid her hand over mine, the gesture firm, mirroring what I’d done with Greaves. She held tight, as if she knew exactly what twisted in my gut.
“Argos awaits,” Nereus murmured.
The black dragon let out a low growl and shifted, presenting his shoulder. He climbed with ease, the fluidity in his movement defying his age. Nienna pressed her lips together in a tight smile before moving to him, grasping one thick, scaled leg.
I would ride in his claws. The insult chafed, but I shoved it down. For Nienna, I would–
A scream tore through the air, sharp and ragged. Heads snapped toward the Nest.
Kalepsi leaned over the edge, her mouth open in fury. Deep violet scales rippled under the light, golden horns flaring as she thrashed. The frills lining her neck flared wide, catching the sun.
Argos stirred on the landing, his head lifting toward her. She bellowed again, leaning so far out that stone pebbles skittered loose, tumbling through the air. The crowd below scattered—parents shielding children, bodies rushing the throne room for cover.
Ivory teeth flashed as Kalepsi flung her wings open, sky glowing through the stretched violet membrane.