59. Chapter Fifty-Nine #2
People begin to stare at me—my Weyr stares at me.
Family in one way or another. None of them understands why I’ve done this.
To them, my father is a good man. An exemplary Dragon, handsome in his own right, with scales the color of arterial blood.
His gold spikes are daggers coming from his back.
His tail ends in a brutal club; I’d inherited the spikes from my mother.
She’s protecting me, even from the grave.
What would she think of today? Father never spoke about her, but I would like to think she would have been a kind mother, like Talia. We had to have received our dispositions from someone, and it certainly wasn’t our father.
For the first time in my life, I silently ask her for protection and strength. Maybe she’s next to Fortuna, peering down at this sacred event. If so, I want to make them both proud.
My father lands in the circle, further away. Next to him, a gray female Dragon lands. She’s small, with black spikes.
For the third time in as many months, I see him and want to kill him. A deep growl vibrates my gullet.
“Steady,” Kyrielle says, floating closer to my head, putting a tempering hand on my face. “You’ll have your moment.”
Still, I snap in his direction. He lowers his head, snaking his neck in a threat. I can’t help but feel vindication when I see his stolen eye is sealed shut.
He’s close enough to hear me say, It sucks to live without an eyeball, doesn’t it?
My father snaps wickedly large jaws in response. You petulant child. I have repeatedly tried to apologize. Why can you not see that I have been trying to make amends?
Amends, I say, tone flat. Anger ferociously blooms. Opening my maw to release a roar, I scream into his addled brain, Amends?! Are you off your fucking rocker, old man?
“Goddess, what is he saying?” Kyrielle says, fear lacing her tone.
I’m unable to keep the disgust out of my mouth. That he wants to make amends.
Instantly, her entire body explodes into flames. Snarling, she points an orange-colored finger at him. “Over my dead body, buddy.”
Father’s tail drives deeply into the snow. Gone is the tone of attrition. The mocking tone I’ve grown up with appears.
What a delightful tasty snack. He looks at the gray Dragon. She looks between the two of us, dipping her head in subservience. How did she get wrapped up with him? This is my new wife, by the way. Grianne. You can call her mother.
A rough, gravely sound chokes in his throat. The equivalent of a laugh. Oh, wait. You don’t deserve having a mother.
I search within myself and find that his words don’t hit their target, because he’s wrong. Talia is new in my life, but she’s more of a mother than I’ve ever had. You’re wrong. And are you so scared that you’re trying to bait your son to kill him more easily?
I’m not scared, he shoots back, but it comes out a little too quickly to be true. This knowledge fortifies my determination.
Turning away from him to focus on my family, I say, You should be. See you in the skies.
He’s saying something, but I tune him out, heading toward Fynn. He’s been watching the interaction, but can’t hear it.
When I’m close enough, he asks, What did he want?
Old man trying to piss me off ahead of time. We have a new mommy, apparently.
Fynn snorts out smoke. Yeah, her name is Talia. Come on, let’s shift back.
We both shift to our bi-pedal forms. Kyrielle runs toward me, wrapping arms around my chest. “I’m so proud of you.”
Holding her tight, I kiss the top of her head. “Why’s that?”
She cranes her head up, chin digging into my stomach. “Because you’re doing something brave.” Kyrielle grins. “And stupid. But mostly brave.”
Threading my fingers through her hair, I smile. “Thank you, Firefly. When I’m done, I hope you know we’re fucking on a mountain.”
“For Fortuna’s sake,” Fynn curses, pressing hands over Joulian’s ears.
“Famous last words,” Orliana says dryly, smiling.
Scooping Kyrielle into my arms, I tell my brother, “I’ll be right back. I need a moment.”
He nods, turning toward the family trying to say hello.
“Where are we going?” Kyrielle whispers, playing with a piece of my hair in her hands.
“Somewhere where I can kiss you without being told we’re having sex.”
“Are we going to have sex?”
“Yes. That’s why I don’t want to hear about it.”
She giggles with a smile made of sunshine. “Won’t Dragons hear us?”
“Just be quiet.”
Kyrielle flicks my nose. “Don’t be so good, then.”
“Can’t. It’s my lot in life.”
She snuggles into my chest, warmed by my Fyre, while I search for a large enough snow drift. I need a couple of minutes to hold her and say everything I’ve already said all over again, just so it’s drilled into her perfect little brain.
When I find the spot, I shift her so her legs are wrapped around my waist, arms around my neck.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hi.” My eyes scan her bright face. “You know, the first time I saw you, I wanted to do this?”
Kyrielle tilts her head, nose wrinkling in thought. “When I couldn’t get a drink at the bar?”
“Exactly. So you’d finally be the same height as everyone else,” I tease.
She bites my chin. “You’re so rude.”
Holding her close, I dig my nose into the base of her neck where my mark shows. Instead of responding, I close my eyes to listen for her heartbeat. It’s steady and strong. When I move my mouth against her throat, the speed picks up. I smile softly.
“What are you doing?” she says so quietly that the wind almost eats it up.
“Memorizing.” One of my hands holds her plump ass cheeks, with the other grazing along her spine. “So if my life ever flashes before my eyes, this is the last good memory to savor before death steals it all.”
She sniffles. “You are one of the best people I know, Trinte Gleanscale.”
Creamsicle hair ruffles against my face in the wind. “You are the best of me, Kyrielle Veritas.”
Her lips come to my neck and fingers sift through my hair. “When you win, you’re absolutely fucking me on a mountain.”
“Naturally.”
A horn sounds from the other side of the snow mound.
Tension jerks her body. I lift my head and press my lips against hers.
Stain the taste in my brain. Her tears wet the kiss, a blessing of aching love turned physical.
It feels like I’m being torn in half, knowing how afraid my choice has made her.
Breaking the kiss with too much regret, I wipe away tears from her wind-chapped cheeks. “Thank you for loving me, Kyrielle.”
“Thank you for letting me love you.”
The horn sounds again. I shift her back in my arms so I’m cradling her. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”