Chapter 12
What Leita took, if somewhat begrudgingly, from their talk at the border was that she and Attalus had more than a little common ground to stand upon. What he seemed to discover was a renewed determination to win her over.
In the following days, he waited for little openings to ask more about her. As she sat grinding up spices for that evening’s supper, he leaned down to ask, without any preamble, “How many younglings did you want to have?”
Leita nearly dropped the stone pestle on her foot. “Wh-what?”
He merely shrugged. “Matehood and bonding usually bring younglings, so I thought I’d better ask.”
Her cheeks burned as she doggedly returned to her work. She meant not to answer him, but he stood there waiting, long enough that she finally admitted in a grumble, “A few.”
“As in two? How many do fae typically have at once?”
“One at a time, usually,” she said.
He made a considering noise, and a peek up at him revealed that he did truly seem to be giving their future younglings thought.
“Four,” she muttered. “I think four is good.”
His brows arched and he grinned merrily. “Well now, a whole brood, I like that very much.” And with a kiss to the top of her head, he strode from the cave to stretch in the sunshine as he’d taken to doing most afternoons.
Did you want me to leave you alone in the cave tonight to get started, or…?
Shut up, she sulked.
Thalia nickered in a horsey laugh, bending to nip at Leita’s head where Attalus had kissed. Leita bore the teasing—mostly because she was quickly distracted by the fine sight her dragon made as he stretched.
He does it on purpose, Thalia told her.
I’m very aware.
You might consider putting him out of his misery soon. At least before he truly starts to preen. The mare thought about it a moment and amended, No, wait, I want to see him do a mating dance.
Mating dance? Leita repeated, an ominous pang of dread in her belly. I thought it was the orcs who did those.
Dragons do them, too. Think male birds in spring. All showy with their chests out. Thalia chuckled. Oh, yes, I want to see that.
Leita couldn’t agree—she thought she might die of mortification if Attalus decided to woo her that way.
Thankfully, at least for now, he seemed content with his strategy of hovering around her waiting to make conversation. He went with her to wash up in the nearby stream, to inspect the surrounding forest, as well as walk the border.
Leita wouldn’t admit it, but having him there for that latter activity did give her a smidge of relief. What’d happened before with the border still unnerved her, and having Attalus near, chattering away, was a good reminder not to give over too much.
She left offering up too much to Attalus.
Leita wasn’t especially surprised when he ventured to ask, “Your human husband, were you with him long?”
“About two years. I knew of him for several before, though.” It’d been long enough by now that she could speak about Jonathan without her throat getting too tight.
“And you loved him?”
“Very much.” Perhaps it was the distance between her and his death now, or perhaps it was talking about him in a context other than his final days, but Leita enjoyed the reminder of happier memories.
That there’d been years, brief as they were, when she’d actually had all she’d ever wanted—love, family, security.
Attalus went quiet for a while, prompting Leita to peer at him. She’d begun to understand that long silences were rarely safe when it came to Attalus.
“He’s been dead some centuries now. There’s no need to be jealous.”
She bit back her laugh to see how grumpy he looked. It was a little strange to be the one receiving the frown rather than bestowing it.
“I’m not usually a jealous being. Instinct, I suppose.” Attalus shrugged, although his expression remained contemplative. “But I…I’m glad to know that even in your long years of exile, there was a time you were loved and cared for. I owe your human family a debt of gratitude.”
And just like that, Leita forgot anything she might say.
She was the one who again lapsed into silence, the weight of his words giving her pause.
He seemed to truly mean them, and his genuine feeling touched her, down to the depths of her innermost heart, where she’d put all her hurts and dreams away long ago.
They walked the border in a peaceful silence for a while, but eventually Leita couldn’t help but ask him, “And should I be jealous over any of your past lovers?” He hadn’t said anything definitive about his past liaisons, but it wasn’t a risk to bet that he wasn’t a stranger to sex.
He was younger than her, less than a hundred, and could have past partners still living.
However, in all he’d said over his past, he’d only recounted family members.
Attalus grinned ruefully, scratching at his cheek with a claw. “Ah, no, I don’t think so. I’ve enjoyed time with partners, but it was never serious.” Then, for reasons only known to him, he began to describe past experiences.
Leita’s cheeks and ears burned to hear of his…
exploits. He told her of his favorite drinking dens and brothels, how he’d lost himself these past years in good wine, good company, and good sex.
He spoke of his preferred lovers and positions—or lack thereof.
He wasn’t picky nor confined to female partners. Or a single one at a time.
She might’ve choked on her outrage had he said it any other way than he did—openly, guilelessly, as though reciting old facts from a tome of history. When she got past the shock of it, she realized he might be…trying to be honest. He didn’t say it to aggrandize himself or to outdo her.
She appreciated that. Even so, she eventually had to tell him, “That’s enough, thank you.”
Attalus cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “Forgive me, I only meant to be honest.”
“And so you have.” Turning to face him, Leita arched her brows. “Although, you could’ve just said you’re a consummate slag and left it at that.”
A surprised laugh boomed from his chest, his great shoulders shaking with mirth. “My, my, she can joke!”
Leita rolled her eyes to distract from her blush and continued walking. “Are you sure I’ll be enough for you, Savrakae princeps?”
“I’ve no doubts,” he laughed, jogging to catch up. “I can hardly handle you as it is.”
Quick as could be, he leapt a step ahead, slinging his arm around her middle to draw her into his side. “I hope you see that whatever you may want, I’m always game, phetala.”
“Hmm, yes, I understood that much.”
His hand on her belly flexed, and she watched his slitted pupils dilate. “My aim will always be to please you, my Queen. Whatever that may mean. Ropes, spanking, sweet-talk, sharing, whatever you—”
Leita snapped her fangs in his face. “Fae don’t share azai. I don’t share.”
Those predator’s pupils somehow grew even bigger. “Oh, no, never, agae. Never that. Only, should you wish to have more than one supplicant worship you, I, a dutiful mate, could be generous with you.”
Oh. The pointed tips of her ears flushed to think about taking two lovers to bed. Honestly, she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around just Attalus.
Leaning close, he whispered in her sensitive ear, “But perhaps not yet. Perhaps for a while, I’ll be selfish with you.”
Leita stood on her toes, lifting her face to his. His eyes widened before dropping to her mouth. When he bent to kiss her, though, she dug her fingers into his side, going right for a kidney.
Attalus yelped and folded sideways, staggering away from her merciless claws.
As she walked away snickering, Attalus called after her, “You’re masterful at gentle foreplay, I see.”
His favorite seemed to be distracting her from her morning meditations. Although she made little progress on her own anyway, it was easy to blame him and his questions for sidetracking her again and again.
Leita sensed his approach before she heard it; the way his swishing tail displaced air and the force of his presence moving through the world. The soft snap of a blanket unfurling followed, and she listened as he hunkered down beside her on the growing grass.
“You don’t have to sit out here with me, you know.”
“On the contrary,” he said as he noisily made himself comfortable, “we lizards love sunbathing. It warms the blood and makes our scales shine.”
She couldn’t help it—she cracked open an eye to glance at him.
Leita sighed. “All right, but you don’t have to sunbathe entirely naked, either. That’s certainly a choice.”
“Indeed, and the right one. It’s bad for the scales to smother them under fabric too long.”
She reached down to pinch his nose. “You have an answer for everything.”
“Just trying to make con—”
Pressing her finger to his lips, she added, “And you talk too much.”
If she thought he’d take her words as reprimand, she was again mistaken. A grin teased his lips, and she snatched her finger back before it could get licked or nipped.
Leita faced forward again, trying to regain her equilibrium. Really, she couldn’t be blamed at all for not making any progress. Not with his scales glittering so brightly in her periphery should she dare to open her eyes. Not with his scent wafting around her, little hints of fire and spice.
She was disappointed in herself, but she eventually couldn’t help asking, “Why is it you sit with me?”
“Can’t I want to get to know my own mate?” he replied. She felt how he tried to subtly scooch closer to her on his back but refused to open her eyes. “Besides, you’re so rarely still. This is a grand opportunity only a fool would miss.”
So she was easy prey like this. Noted.
“You mean to bring me onside,” she reasoned.
Not unwise of him, he was truly in a difficult position, but his situation called into question everything he said and did for her.
He might not want her, he might only want her protection.
And, by virtue of who she was now, the protection of her land and people.