Chapter 13 #2
His nostrils flared, and he swallowed back his growl.
Yes, that was true. Still, the thought of her having to fend off a formation of gorgoroi on her own set his claws to twitching.
She could handle herself, was stronger than him and probably a whole battalion of gorgoroi, but he couldn’t be rational about her safety.
He wanted to ensure it, which meant he needed to be with her.
With little left to persuade her, he’d no choice but to resort to lesser tactics. “What about the bond? It’s grown, but this separation could sever it altogether.”
“If it’s strong enough, it’ll survive.”
Attalus sneered. “You would let it wither away that easily? You’d give up, just like that?” And although it was ugly, he taunted, “I thought it was you who are Queen, yet you answer every councilor’s whim? Who is it that commands whom?”
A tendon in Leita’s cheek pulsed, and Attalus had the distinct sensation of being in danger.
“I’ve been Queen less than a year, but even I know what duty is. You’ve made a poor princeps if you don’t understand it.”
“Oh, I understand it. I’m trying to do my duty to you, my mate. But you run from me. Always you’re running from me.” He hadn’t meant for his words to hurt himself, but the barbs stabbed and stung him far before he ever threw them at her.
“I’m not running!” she cried. Her answer was forceful, echoing down the cave. So loud, Attalus’s swishing tail froze in midair and his hearts skipped a beat.
To his horror, tears shone in Leita’s eyes. She made an X with her arms before sweeping them to the side, warding off his accusation. “I’m not running,” she said again.
Finally, it was Attalus himself he heard shatter as he watched her turn her back on him. She shuffled to the entrance of the cave, wrapping her arms around herself.
The light of the fire played across her hunched back, and he hated the sight of her curling in on herself. Her figure was stark against the darkening, colorless backdrop of the forest, night coming on fast.
It’d been near dusk when she returned with her news. He didn’t know how long they’d been arguing, but he felt in his bones that it’d been too long.
Why? Why must it always be like this?
Things weren’t always simple or harmonious between even fated mates, it was true, but Attalus had thought most of them came to some sort of accord.
His mother and Karik had taken to each other immediately.
If a dragon queen and human sailor could bend their lives around the other, why not a dragon prince and Fae Queen?
He feared he answered his own question. Especially given the fate of the dragon queen and her human sailor.
It shouldn’t be so difficult to reach one’s mate. Who else was supposed to listen when you spoke? Who else was meant to hold your hearts when you offered them?
Attalus had only one thing left to try, but his own pride chafed against it. His hearts already ached fiercely, battered by disappointment and strife. He didn’t think it would sway her, not after all she’d said, so why reveal another vulnerable part for her to crush?
But what else could he do? Let her leave him, her last memories of him sneering and angry?
Part of him wanted that, yes. That sneering, angry side of him was one who hurt, and if that’s what she remembered, good. She’d been the one to do it.
Yet, another part, the part that deeply, desperately didn’t want to be alone, rang truer.
Steps careful and quiet, Attalus approached her. There was time for her to move away, to deny him, but she stood stalwart where she was.
Attalus wrapped his arms and then his wings around Leita, drawing her into his chest. Burying his nose in the crook of her shoulder, he took a long drag of her scent, committing it to memory.
“Please, agae,” he murmured against her skin, “please don’t leave me.” He couldn’t bear it again. Don’t cast me aside.
She shuddered within his embrace, and Attalus instinctively held tighter.
He knew her answer even before she turned in his arms, her watery, regretful gaze finally lifting to meet his. He braced himself, holding the both of them in the safety of his wings to keep from falling apart.
“I’ll come back,” she whispered. “Attalus, I swear I’ll return for you.”
“When?”
“As soon as I can. Let me handle whatever’s in the capital. I’ll tell them about you, get everything ready, and then I’ll come back for you.”
He drew in a long, deep breath to fortify himself.
Attalus could see in the stiff set of her shoulders and sad turn of her eyes that she was determined. That she needed this to go as she asked.
It was their first real test, it seemed, and Attalus knew he couldn’t fail. For whatever reason, she needed to do this her way, even if it hurt him.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. In fact, both his hearts ached something fierce at the thought of being left again. No one had ever returned. Those who’d left him did so forever, and Attalus was sick to think that could be Leita, too.
He’d have to trust her—and in so doing, earn her trust in return. Whether she understood that or not, her trust would be his due. He would have his fae mate upon her return, have her in all ways, everything she was. It seemed only fair.
“Then grant me one night, agae. One night, so that I may withstand the days without you.”
He didn’t think she’d agree. When she did, her soft, “All right,” caressing his lips, Attalus stood utterly shocked for a moment.
But just a moment. He couldn’t waste any more.
Without another thought or breath, he swooped down to claim her mouth. His kiss wasn’t gentle or teasing—he took part of his due upfront, plundering her mouth with licks and nips and hard suckles. She mewled beneath the onslaught, a sound that ignited his blood.
A willing mate caught in his arms and the impending sunrise on his mind, he bent just long enough to grab her under the backside. She obliged, hopping into his arms, allowing him to bring them to the messy nest of his bedroll.
It wasn’t the ideal place to make love to a queen, but then again, Leita was hardly a conventional royal. He set her down amongst fabrics that smelled of them, and a pleased rumble began to rattle in his chest.
His greedy hands explored her, pulling the shirt from her trou to delve beneath. His fingers trembled, and he told himself to slow down, to savor her for what might be his only chance, but he couldn’t stop now.
Her tunic went up over her head and then sailed over his, cast away. He discovered a supportive band around her breasts and found it personally offensive, catching the lower hem in his teeth to pull up her chest. Two magnificent breasts fell free, pulling a groan from the depths of his own chest.
Pearlescent skin gleamed in the low light of the moon and fire, perfect handfuls of plush flesh capped in rosy lilac nipples. Unable to resist, Attalus devoured each in their turn, satisfied to find they were succulent as berries, juicy and sweet.
Leita began to squirm beneath him as he set his tongue at her nipple.
He caught her along the underside in the V of his forked tongue, working himself back and forth until she was properly writhing.
More little moans and mewls escaped her, sounds he’d never have imagined she’d make that only incited him more.
Her dainty claws dug into his hair, scraping his scalp and burrowing around the base of his horns.
She couldn’t know how sensitive a place that was, but her warm grip had him seeing stars—and imagining just what it would be for her to take his cock in such a grasp.
His groan buzzed around her nipple, and Leita arched beneath him, another senseless sound on her lips.
Blood pumping hotter than the volcanoes that had made the earth, Attalus reluctantly left the bounty of her breasts—if only because he needed something even richer.
His claws made quick work of her trou, not even bothering with the button before pulling them down her shapely legs.
He crooned in appreciation at the strong contours of her thighs and elegant shape of her feet.
He started there with more kisses, fluttering his lips and tongue along the arches and then the delicate bones of her ankles. Up her shin to her knee, where he felt her skin jump against his lips. For all their strength, her thighs were smooth and silky, a decadent pleasure for all his senses.
Attalus was more than gratified to see how she’d begun to tremble, laid out as she was on their blankets. She watched him from there, her sapphire eyes so dark they were nearly black.