Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
NISSIA
I’m so pathetic. Being snubbed by Ragnakor has turned me into a pitiable mess of a woman, so desperate for a male’s love that she runs away.
I can’t show my face after that, so I spend the day with Ari, trying to forget how silly and foolish I’ve been.
We go on a ride out to the lake that Vizarios first showed me, and while Quillion stands with his back to us, we take off our clothes and get into the frigid water.
I squeal at the sensation of it on my bare nipples and decide to stay in the shallows, so I’m only freezing up to my waist.
Ari laughs uproariously. “Been some time since you went swimming?” She paddles across the lake ahead of me. “I don’t remember you being a coward.”
Annoyed at her jab, I finally walk into the water up to my neck, and I feel like a block of ice. But soon I adjust to it, and then we swim back and forth together, splashing each other and giggling like idiots.
Finally, the late afternoon comes as we sit drying and freezing on the lakeshore. I wander away into my thoughts as I watch the sun sink down over the trees, feeling miserable for myself.
Ari scoots closer, peering at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get like this over a boy.”
I cover my face with my hands. “I know. It’s stupid.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think that you’re in love and you’ve been rejected. It’s not a good feeling for anyone.”
I sigh as she puts an arm around my shoulders. I don’t want to talk about it, so I suggest we head back to the castle, and she agrees without complaint.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I tell Ari as we ride home, Quillion dutifully following. “I don’t really know what I’d do without you.”
She grins. “Now I just need to find a dragon husband of my own.” Her eyes dart to Quillion, and then back. “Or a dragon wife. Zephala is very pretty.”
“Zephala?” I giggle. “That would be an interesting match.”
We discuss Ari’s prospects the whole ride home.
After taking the tack off our horses, cleaning them up, and putting them away in the stable, we head inside for dinner.
Vizarios’s footman comes to tell me the king will be working through the meal, but he sends his regards, and hopes that I will come visit him in his rooms later in the evening for something important.
I wonder what he has planned.
Ragnakor and I did not discuss training tonight, and I don’t want to see him anyway, so I take a long bath before changing into my favorite robe. When I look at myself in the mirror, I realize my outfit is the same rust color as Ragnakor’s hide, and I let out a bone-deep sigh.
At least I have Vizarios. The fire is fully alight between us, and it feels as if we have finally settled into a relationship that makes sense. My uncertainty has faded over the last few nights, and I think I might be able to trust him with my heart.
Once I’m dressed, Zephala pats my hair dry and expertly uses oils to separate it into ringlets. She pins back just the bit at my temples, letting the rest fall free.
“You know, the more time I spend with you, the more I grow envious of this,” she says, fluffing my hair in the mirror. “Will your dragonlings have hair, I wonder?”
I hadn’t thought about it. I have not seen a half-human, half-dragon before.
“I guess we’ll find out sooner or later.” I surreptitiously put a hand on my belly. “The king is certainly trying.”
Zephala giggles with mischief.
As I head down the hall to Vizarios’s quarters, I wonder if he would be open to cohabitating. It seems fitting as husband and wife that we would have a shared room now that we’re frequently together.
When I knock, I hear heavy footsteps on the other side, and then the door flies open. Vizarios smirks when he sees me and eagerly grabs me to pull me into the room.
I stop in my tracks when I find Ragnakor sitting at the table and toss away Vizarios’s hand.
“What’s going on?” I ask, backing up to the door. This feels like an ambush and immediately I want to leave.
“See?” Ragnakor says, rising to his feet. “I should not be here, Your Majesty.”
Vizarios shoots him a deadly glare. “Sit back down.” Then he approaches me, reaching out to rub my shoulder. “My queen, can you give us a moment of your time to talk openly?”
I don’t want to. My heart hurts enough as it is.
Vizarios glances sideways at Ragnakor. “I think the captain has something to say to you.”
Don’t be a coward, I tell myself. So, I plant my feet firmly and cross my arms. “What do you want?”
Shame-faced, Ragnakor lifts his head to look at me.
“My deepest apologies, my queen. I have injured you.”
I purse my lips and don’t answer.
“I did not intend it,” he continues. “I simply don’t believe it’s honorable or dignified for me to engage in a relationship with—”
“Of course,” I say, my tone pinched.
His hand clenches into a fist, and his expression turns pleading. “It’s what I know. I have my place, my role, and it has always guided me.”
All I hear are excuses, and I’m not interested. Vizarios sighs and curls his arm around me, bringing me to his side. I lean my head against his chest, and it’s odd and new and lovely to find comfort in him when the situation feels hostile.
“Please, Nissia,” my husband says, in a tone gentler than I thought he was capable of. “Will you come sit?”
He takes my hand in his, and though I pout, I follow as he leads me to a seat at the table across from Ragnakor. The big dragon looks like the entire weight of the castle rests on his shoulders.
“I apologize for leaving,” Ragnakor says at length, keeping his gaze down. “But I... I worry about what my desires might mean for the two of you. For the health and status of the kingdom. And I cannot overlook that, no matter what my personal wishes might be.”
I squint at him. “The health of the kingdom?”
“A happily married king and queen is what’s good for Selvumrrest. It is unusual, to be blunt, to bring a third person into such a sacred relationship. It will raise eyebrows and may cast your rule into doubt.”
When I glance at Vizarios to gauge his reaction, his forehead is wrinkled in thought.
“I had not considered this. That it might cause a challenge.”
“You are the rightful king, and a good one, Vizarios,” I say. “What you do in your own time, in your own private life, is for you to know and you alone.”
Without answering, Vizarios lifts my hand to bring it to his lips. He presses a small, chaste kiss there, his mouth curving up on one side.
“I’m lucky to have such a fearsome queen at my side.” But then the smile falls. “I believe, unfortunately, that Ragnakor is right. If knowledge were to spread about the truth of our relationship? That we are sharing a bed with a dragon who isn’t royalty? It could be a problem.”
I have not lived among dragon politics for long, but I’m not sure I believe him.
“You really think the wardens would judge you for this?” I ask. “While Syzari and I send them new workers, while you build new trade routes with the ogre-people that will benefit all?”
Vizarios watches me carefully. “I was going to propose that we simply keep it a secret.”
Ragnakor grits his teeth. “Secrets don’t last for long in a castle.”
“Then we don’t keep it a secret!” I say. I’m growing tired of this. “Then we live our lives in the open and take whatever comes with it. No one will call into question your devotion to your king, Papa.”
Ragnakor reacts instantly to the word, his spine straightening, his brows lifting. He studies me like I’m a strange and foreign object, a wonder of the world he’s never seen before.
“You would not be ashamed?” he asks, lips pulled into a disbelieving frown. “You would openly bring me into your marriage bed?”
I have to laugh. “What marriage bed? We still don’t share a room!”
Vizarios snorts. “She’s right. Perhaps we should relocate somewhere bigger.”
He gets to his feet and walks behind Ragnakor, dragging his claws over the other dragon’s broad shoulders. Then he leans forward and wraps his arms around Ragnakor’s neck.
“What do you think?” Vizarios whispers into his ear. I can only make out the words by the movement of his lips. “Will you join us in said wedding bed, Papa? Show us how to make a dragonling?”
Ragnakor’s brows furrow in worry. “But the kingdom may question the parentage of your heir if I’m involved.”
“An heir is an heir. They will be grateful for whatever they get.” The king’s voice is firm. “Now, I think you have some apologizing to do.”
RAGNAKOR
I swallow down my objections as Vizarios caresses me. The queen waits, her eyes still hard as diamonds.
They both want me, regardless of the world’s expectations for them. That alone is as much of a declaration as any.
“My queen,” I finally say, getting up out of my chair. I walk around the table and kneel in front of her, and she inhales sharply as I take her hands in mine. “I am sorry. I’m sorry to have left you when you needed me.”
My whole body feels magnetized to hers, so I take one of her tiny brown hands with the elegant fingers and kiss it. She gasps, and I think it is the first time I have kissed any part of her. Her taste fills me, intoxicating me, and I need more.
“I won’t leave you again,” I go on, kissing down her palm, then along her arm. The tiny hairs on her skin stand on end, which is a fascinating reaction. “As long as you want me, I will never walk away.”
I rise to my feet again as I trail my lips up to her throat, bending forward to reach her there. Nissia tilts her head back, allowing me even more access to her. I can’t help dragging the tips of my fangs over her skin, and she shudders under me in response.
“Papa,” she whispers, her body instinctively leaning into me. I wrap an arm around her waist, my very scales shivering.
“Kiss her,” Vizarios says, and my eyes dart to his. He is serious, commanding. And he’s right to be. It’s time to show her how I feel about her.
I push one of Nissia’s long ringlets away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She’s peering up at me now through her long lashes, which are so foreign and yet so beautifully human. I slip a finger under her chin and tilt it up, making it easier to reach her lips.
“May I?” I ask.
Her breath comes out stuttered and harsh. “Please, Papa.”
My cock surges, and I do it. I lower my muzzle and press my big mouth to her small lips, and the touch is so tiny, so perfect, that my chest threatens to burst open.
I go slow, sampling her, getting a feel for her and what she likes.
Her hands land on my chest, and she grabs onto the collar of my jerkin to pull me even closer.
When I swipe my tongue over her lips, a gasp pours out of her, which I swallow up eagerly.
I need more. I’ve waited so long, and now I need all of it.
My hands roam down her sides, tracing the shape of her waist, her hips.
The feeling of her under my palms is divine, and I relish finally getting to bury my fingers in her soft skin.
She presses herself against me harder, soaking me up, drinking me in the same way I’m devouring her.
Her tongue meekly comes out, and I hate that I still make her feel so tentative, that she’s uncertain about my feelings for her.
Instead of ravishing her, I slow down. I bring her in even tighter against my chest, my tail reaching out to curl around her calf.
I hold her as tenderly as I can while I nip at her lip, then soothe it with my tongue.
I briefly touch tips with her, but then move on, loving every part of her and not demanding anything in return.
At last, her mouth opens for me. I ease my way in, exploring her, worshiping her, trying to tell her in every press of my lips to hers that I only ever want her happiness.
Nissia sags against me as her tongue meets mine, and despite the lingering scent of sex already in the air, I can smell her growing arousal.
Do I do to her what she does to me?
Her small hands find their way up my chest to my throat, and then her fingers lace around behind my neck. Now she’s clinging onto me as I kiss her, trying to carry her away with me.
When at last we part, we’re both panting. Nissia’s eyes are alive, bright and shining, and she runs the pad of her finger up my jaw.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, only for me to hear. I nod and bring her in so her head rests against my chest, then circle her with both arms, making sure she understands what I offer her: my protection, my devotion, my heart.