Chapter 20
TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD
Amos leaned against the cave wall at the den entrance near the capital with his hand resting on Sasha’s nose. When everything got to be too much, the dragon kept him company away from prying eyes.
“I wish you could talk to me.” He rubbed the smooth scales on her face and dropped his hand into his lap. “Or show me around the den. Clover tried to describe it to me once, but words don’t do it justice, do they?”
Sasha shook her head. All their conversations went this way—him talking, her huffing, stomping when she was annoyed, or moving her head. Even without words, she eased a little of the loneliness that plagued him.
His friends in the Hydra traveled to the capital periodically, and Clover’s letters were consistent, but for the most part, Amos had no one in the capital except Alice, and he didn’t like to burden her with his problems. She’d done enough for him throughout his life.
He leaned his head against the wall and crossed his ankles. “I can’t wait for you to meet Amelia. Has Roland told you about her?” Amos paused. “Can familiars talk to each other?”
Sasha nodded again. “Is that yes to Roland telling you about Amelia, or yes to familiars being able to talk to each other?” The dragon stared at him, and he chuckled.
“Nod twice if both answers are yes.” She didn’t move, and his smile faltered.
“Nod once if you two can talk to each other but he hasn’t told you about my sister yet. ” Her giant head bobbed once.
“You should ask him about her. I only get to see snippets of her, but he’s around her all the time.” Amos exhaled. “Clover too.”
Amos leaned forward and bent his legs, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m tired, Sasha.” He stared into Sasha’s reptilian eyes. “I can’t see my mate, my sister doesn’t know I exist, I’m separated from my familiar, and my best friend is a dragon.”
She bristled, stomping her foot with an indignant huff. He chuckled. “You being my best friend isn’t the bad part, it’s that I can’t hear you. I wonder what you’d say if you could tell me whatever you wanted.”
The dragon moved closer and laid her head beside his feet. A deep rumble, like a low, draconic purr, vibrated through the air, and he knew it was her way of comforting him. Amos placed his hand on her nose again. “I love you.”
She nudged his leg, then backed away and pushed to her feet. Turning, she walked to the cliff’s edge and dove into the den, leaving him alone again. Not exactly the reaction he’d hoped for.
A few minutes later, after a thoroughly pathetic, self-indulgent pity part, the sound of flapping wings interrupted his thoughts. Sasha appeared at the cliff’s edge and landed gracefully.
Amos shot to his feet, not trusting his own eyes. They had betrayed him before. Clover jumped off Sasha’s back, tossed a bag on the ground, and walked toward him.
He didn’t want to move in case the vision vanished, needing to hold on to the image of her for as long as he could.
Then the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard said, “Hello, husband.”
Amos met her halfway and scooped her into his arms, crushing her to his chest. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent that was uniquely hers. “How?” It was all he could manage as he set her down and drank her in.
“It took some planning and a long trip through the den, but I wanted to surprise you.” She threw her hands up. “Surprise!”
Amos peppered kisses all over her face, earning himself a laugh. It’d been too long since he’d heard the sound. “How long can you stay?”
“Only tonight,” she replied ruefully. “It took a few days to get here, even on the back of a dragon.”
Amos swallowed the pang of disappointment. He had her for an entire night, and he wouldn’t waste it wallowing in the fact that she’d leave tomorrow. “We can stay in one of the safe houses,” he said. “No one is using them right now.”
She grinned slyly. “Ruth made sure the one closest to the den was empty.”
Amos crossed his arms. “Ruth? Who else knew you were coming and didn’t tell me?”
Clover rolled her eyes. “It’s not a surprise if they tell you. We’ve been planning this for a couple of months.”
“I thought I was hallucinating again,” he admitted, remembering the times he could have sworn he’d seen her in Dragon Village.
“You are unstable,” she joked. “It was a good assumption.”
“You brat,” he said, darting forward to throw her over his shoulder.
Clover screamed, swatting at his butt and kicking her feet. “Amos Stratton, you put me down right now.”
He slapped her ass. “I don’t think I will.”
Sasha, who’d been quiet through the exchange, picked up Clover’s bag with her teeth and walked it over. Amos gratefully accepted it and slung it over his other shoulder. “Thank you, Sasha. For everything.”
She blew a puff of smoke from her nose then turned her big body around, padded to the cliff’s edge, and took flight.
Clover lay beside Amos in bed with a leg slung over his and her head on his bare chest, breathing hard after their vigorous reunion. Her finger traced the familiar mark on his chest as he told her about his suspicions that Paul was building an army.
“The only thing that doesn’t make sense is that he doesn’t have the funds,” Amos said. “I’ve checked his accounts and business dealings. He’s been in debt for years. Someone else is in charge.”
“What if it’s not a highborn?” she mused. “What if it’s a wealthy lowborn who wants to rule?”
Amos contemplated her suggestion. “You might be right.” He leaned his head against the headboard. “Not many lowborns agree with the crown, and we haven’t focused much of our attention there.”
Clover grunted. “That’s stupid. The commoners are the backbone of any kingdom. There might not be many loyalists there, but they do exist. It’s obvious loyalists are using the rebel factions to cause havoc.”
“Are you going back to Dragon Village before returning to Friya?”
The change of subject gave her whiplash. “I am…”
“Can you speak to the Hydra about this when you return?” he asked, lightly running his fingers along her bare back.
Oh. Clover had been more active in the Hydra, getting frequent updates from Ruth and sitting in on meetings when she visited. “I had already planned on it. You need to write them a letter as well after you've looked into the wealthier lowborns in the area.”
He kissed the top of her head, and she felt him grin. “I’d already planned on it.”
An orange glint on her husband’s cock caught her eye, and she sat up, running her fingers over the orange beads near the head. They’d been ravenous when they’d arrived at the house, and she hadn’t paid much attention. “You changed your piercing.”
His cock hardened under her perusal. “Today, actually. I wanted to surprise you when I saw you next.” He touched one of the balls. “Only the ends are orange. They advised against putting painted metal inside my body.”
She continued to rub the head of his cock. “You remembered my favorite color?”
His brows bent together. “Why wouldn’t I?” Amos sat up quickly, causing Clover to flop onto the mattress with a squeak. “I have something for you.”
She sat up and eyed him warily. “It’s not another heart bouquet, is it?”
He got out of bed, his heavy cock bobbing between his thighs. “You said you liked the heart.” Amos grabbed his pants off the ground and dug into the pocket.
“I did,” she agreed, “but one heart is enough.”
He walked back to the bed and held out a small box. “I’d planned to send it to you with my next letter.”
“Why are you carrying it around?” she asked, taking the small box. She squinted at the wood. “Is this my ring box?”
“Because they switched it out for me at the shop today and I hadn’t gone home yet, and yes, it is.”
Switched what out? Opening the box, she stared at a small, curved bar with a silver ball on each end. She blinked. Then blinked again. “Is this your old dick piercing?” Surely not.
He sat beside her on the bed with a proud smile. “It is. You have a piece of me to carry with you.”
Clover carefully closed the box, struggling to find the words to say. Absolutely nothing came to mind.
His smile dropped. “You don’t like it.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s that you gave me your dick jewelry.” She burst out laughing. “What is wrong with you?”
Amos scowled at her. “If you gave me something that had been in your pussy, I’d carry it everywhere.”
Holding back her laughter proved nearly impossible. “You think highly of your dick if you think I’d want to carry these around everywhere.”
He stood quickly. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She hiked a shoulder, loving how easily he took the bait. “Nothing.”
Large hands wrapped around her ankles and yanked her to the edge of the bed. Amos pulled her to her feet and flipped her around, bending her over the mattress.
His hand came down with a loud smack, followed by a sharp sting on her ass. She screamed and tried to turn around, but he pinned her to the mattress and spanked her again. “You hurt my feelings.” Another slap.
“No, I didn’t.” She squealed and laughed at his ridiculousness. “I can feel your emotions.”
Amos leaned over and bit her backside, hard. “Don’t downplay my pain.” His hands trailed down her body, and he kneeled behind her. “I’m on the verge of tears, wife, and you’re laughing.”
Her mate ran his tongue across her pussy, flicking at her entrance, and she buried her face in the soft blankets. “Yes, like that,” she gasped.
“Your greedy little cunt is weeping,” he groaned, swiping his warm tongue over her lips again. “What I wouldn’t do to fuck this tight little hole every day.” Another series of licks, each one diving between her swollen lips.
“Amos.” She pushed herself against his face, needing more.
“Are you about to come on my tongue, little viper?” he drawled. “Are you close?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted like a prayer.
He stopped abruptly and bent over her back. “What are you doing?” she wailed. “I was almost there.”
Twisting her head to look at him, she froze at the smugness in his expression. “Next time I give you a gift, say thank you.”
He straightened and patted her ass. “Get dressed and I’ll make you breakfast before you go.”
Clover stood and gaped at him. “If you walk out without making me come, I won’t write to you for an entire month,” she lied through her teeth.
The hazel eyes she loved so much narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”
She arched her brows. “I would.”
Prowling across the room, he grabbed her by the waist and threw her on the bed. “I was going to fuck you after breakfast anyway.”
Clover stood with Amos near the den’s entrance, cursing every god in existence. Their temporary separation grew harder as they aged because they both finally understood what they had but were forced to experience it at a distance.
“Write to me when you get to Dragon Village so I know you made it safely,” Amos said. “And when you arrive in the Human Kingdom.”
“I will,” she promised. They fell into silence, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye.
“When I kill Paul, will you come home?” Clover knew that every time Paul returned to Dragon Village, he asked people about her.
The villagers gave evasive answers. Some claimed not to know her, others sent him in circles.
He’d figured out who her family was—likely from population records in the capital—but her father told him they hadn’t heard from her in a while.
The only thing keeping him from finding her was that almost everyone in Dragon Village was either Hydra or Hydra allies, and none of them would betray her. Over two years later, and the man had yet to give up. It didn’t make sense.
“Yes. I’d stay here now if we were ready for war, but I know I can’t risk going up against Paul and the king until the Hydra is ready.” Clover wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re not the only one barely surviving. I just hide it better.” She kissed her husband like it might be the last time.
Amos deepened their kiss, and she didn’t need their bond to feel his longing and sadness. “I love you,” he murmured when they broke apart. “Always.”
“I love you too, Your Highness.”
He laughed as Clover climbed onto Sasha’s back and disappeared into the den.