Chapter 7
It was a good thing Ravenna was far away in Balmirra, surrounded by hulking orc guards, because Leita had serious designs on smothering her.
Your future holds so much. An azai. A child, she’d said.
Your future is set in flames, she’d said too.
Leita had yet to see Attalus breathe flame, but once healed, he was likely as capable as any other fit dragon.
Glancing up at him from under her lashes, she sighed to see the stupid grin still there. The man grinned entirely too much. Were she a badger or unicorn, she might’ve thought him showing all those teeth so often was a threat.
That no good, tricksy seer bitch, Leita grumbled to herself. Ravenna would be hearing about this.
In the meantime, Leita thought it prudent to continue helping the dragon heal.
Not because she’d accepted he was her azai, nor that she cared at all what happened to him—no, she needed answers still, and the better he felt, the more determined he was to wag his tongue.
Eventually, she hoped, he’d say something useful.
He talked a lot, it was true, although interestingly one thing he hadn’t admitted to was his status. Perhaps that was tactical on his part; perhaps he didn’t realize that more than just the dragons knew what it meant for them to have four horns.
Most dragons grew two, a set. Only dragons of the royal line grew four. It was a sign of their lineage and dominance. It was said that whoever became their leader, the anax, would grow a third set, no matter their age.
So Attalus here was really Attalus Princeps. Not just a dragon but a royal one.
And his crashing here wasn’t just a disaster, it was a diplomatic nightmare. She could already envision Tamerlan and Charis’s horror.
“Is it sore anywhere?” she asked, gently running the tip of a finger around the new flesh of his healing wound. She’d little experience in treating wounds; treating anything, in fact. Not since…
“The touch of my mate could only ever be a pleasure,” he purred.
Leita bit back her scoff. This lizard seemed to only know how to speak in superfluous flattery.
She considered giving him a vicious pinch, but Leita had a feeling he expected it. Gathering her patience, she sat back on her heels to consider him.
Those sharp golden eyes followed her. While his easy words and affable smiles would have her believe he was all pleasantries and niceness, those eyes were far too observant.
Clear from the haze of fever, he noticed everything she did.
To what purpose, exactly, she hadn’t determined yet. He couldn’t seriously think to woo her.
Yes, he threw the word mate around liberally, but surely he had to find this match as ridiculous as she did. A divine farce.
A divine test, more like.
“Where do you come from, Attalus?” she asked. Content with his progress, her magic began to reel back into her—although, it didn’t come as quickly as she’d like. Almost as though it wished to tarry with him.
“Where all dragons come from.” His grin grew to see her arch a brow. “When a mama dragon and a papa dragon—”
Leita groaned in disgust and stood. “If you’re going to be tedious—”
“Wait, wait.” He stopped her from moving away by grabbing her hand.
The contact zinged up Leita’s arm, its own kind of force.
She watched his slitted pupils dilate to nearly full circles.
He grinned again, but this time was…different.
Almost pleasant. Little lines fanned out from his eyes, and a dimple appeared in his right cheek.
“Forgive me?” he asked. “I only tease.”
“Yes, you only tease.” Leita pulled her hand from his with a sniff.
He had the decency to look sheepish. “It’s how I am, I’m afraid. It’s the only way to deal with my siblings.”
“I see. And how many of those do you have?”
Those sharp eyes glittered, no doubt sensing her probing intent. “Too many,” was his glib answer. “Although, perhaps less so now.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Many of the stories about dragons are true. We’re a…hot-blooded lot.” He snickered at his own wordplay, but Leita remained unmoved.
Fists on her hips, Leita informed him, “I’m not sure you appreciate the seriousness of your situation, lizard. You’re a trespasser here, and you’ve yet to convince me you have any good intent.”
Rising smoothly to his feet, Attalus smiled as he took her chin between thumb and finger, lifting her gaze to his. That was all the better, as now that he was free of his fever and in his two-legged form, it was hard to ignore his nakedness.
Leita had seen plenty of naked men before. She wasn’t modest or prudish, had had a human husband before as well as relations with him. But that’d been centuries ago—and she’d never seen a naked male dragon; certainly not one the universe mistakenly thought was her azai.
Like the rest of his people, his front—the face, neck, and chest—was all tanned, smooth skin.
Along the sides and flanks and down the legs, though, red scales covered him, gleaming like rubies in the meager sunlight.
His long dark hair, when clean and brushed, would be a lustrous raven black, tucked behind his double set of arching horns and long pointed ears.
All his horns and even his ears were capped in gold, his lobes pierced with gold hoops.
And that wasn’t the…only place he was pierced.
Leita’s gaze hadn’t lingered, of course, but she’d appraised herself of his red cock, if only because the sight of it was hard to ignore.
Thick even as it lay against his thigh, the flared head had been pierced, a gold bar with balls on either end, along the underside.
Accompanied by three circular ridges below the head, the sight had made her involuntarily clench her thighs.
“I appreciate it very much, doe,” he crooned. “Everything about it.”
“Then you’re either stupid or desperate. Which is it?”
“Why can’t I be grateful and fortunate?”
Leita’s lips thinned. “You can’t seriously be pleased to be here.”
“Why not? I’m here with you. Had I not found my way here, I wouldn’t have found you.”
Unfortunately, his explanation made a sort of sense, if one conceded to some level of divine or providential machinations. Which Leita didn’t.
She really didn’t want to ask, but she felt a bit better about it after lifting her chin from his grip. “And you think you feel this…connection, too? You believe it?”
Another one of those genuine smiles, the one that showed off his eye wrinkles and dimple, made her right knee spasm strangely.
“Of course I do. Savrakae have a fated true mate, just as you fae do. Even shifted and feverish, I recognized what you were to me and I to you.”
“Did you come looking for me here?” She didn’t know how he might have learned of her and their potential bond, but this situation was already strange.
“I flew north to survive,” he said, his gaze shuttering. “I didn’t mean to cross your border, but I’m not disappointed the winds led me here. The wildfire…it’s like you were calling me home.”
Leita’s stomach twisted nervously to hear him say so. She really didn’t like the celestial implications of all this.
Ravenna and the Twins, those bitches.
“And why were you flying north? What do you flee from?”
He stepped closer, crowding into her space. His warmth washed over her, like stepping closer to a crackling bonfire. It emanated from his chest in a way that spoke to the fires that lived there, between his two beating hearts.
“That’s a long story, doe. Might we go somewhere more comfortable, where we both can rest properly?”
Leita narrowed her eyes at him. What was wrong with where they were now? This was a perfectly good cave.
He means a bed, Thalia sighed.
Oh.
Cheeks burning, Leita stepped away. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied with your answers.”
“I can satisfy far more than just—”
“Ugh!” Leita threw her hands in the air and marched away.
She was meant to be meditating. Leita had even found a nice flat rock to sit on for the exercise, folding her legs under her to try communing again with the faelands.
Instead, her efforts kept being diverted.
She didn’t mean to become distracted, didn’t want to be, but the dragon was making an utter nuisance of himself.
The morning was cool, the sky a little clearer and the air a little fresher.
He’d apparently decided now was the perfect time to stretch out his long, lean, naked body to dramatic effect.
Leita glared out of the corner of her eye; no doubt his intention.
He was currently balanced on his palms, weight on his knees, back arched and wings splayed.
She wanted to tell him how much he really did look like a lizard sunning itself, but then he’d know she was paying attention. Absolutely not.
His little marten friend alternated between stretching with him or dangling around his neck like a collar. Honestly, there wasn’t an ounce of dignity between them.
I knew birds preened, but I didn’t think lizards did, she grumped.
I thought you weren’t paying attention.
I’m trying not to, but it’s hard when a big, bright red male keeps flashing in the sun right next to you.
You could close your eyes, Thalia suggested.
But then he’d try to steal closer. You could guard me like I asked—
Can’t, the mare denied blithely. I’m too hungry.
That’d been what she said an hour ago when she’d up and left Leita to the mercies of a determined dragon.
When will you be back?
Whenever I’m full. Why? Can you truly not handle one little lizard?
Of course I can, she retorted, too quickly. He’s just…always watching. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were conspiring with them.
Them?
The Twins, or whichever other deities are behind this.
A horsey laugh echoed down their bond, which Leita closed off in disgust. She should’ve known better than to look for sympathy from a unicorn mare.
Exhaling gustily, Leita refocused ahead of herself. The faelands was tired and weakened from the fire, and Leita wasn’t above using that to her advantage. Now that the wildfire was out, it was time to encourage the land to heal a little faster.