Chapter 32 Forever
FOREVER
My resignation parchment is in my hand as I step into Reginald Durant’s office at the Red Letter Hotel Paris.
I set it on his desk as he tracks its descent with his pale blue-grey Siren’s eyes; scanning it through and noting my signature at the bottom, he signs it with a flourish from his gilded fountain pen.
Rising, he extends a hand, his intense eyes pinning mine.
I accept it, giving his hand a solid pump.
Before Reginald opens his hand, stepping around his gilded desk and escorting me to the door.
He opens the door as he ushers me through, both of us walking side by side to the outside portico where my new motorcycle is parked.
All my things are already packed and shipped up to Sweden.
My suite on the fourth floor of the Hotel is vacant, and I have only the clothes on my back now as he walks me to my bike.
Those clothes are badass, though—a hot little number in royal plum, my signature color, with sequins all over it to throw the light.
It’s a party outfit, courtesy of the Hotel’s finest seamstress, Amalia DuFane, because I’m headed to a party tonight after I’m done here.
It’s a party I can’t wait to get to now, as Reginald eyes me and I see the smallest smile steal in around the corners of his lips.
Pleased with my elated attitude tonight.
“End of an era,” Reginald says to me now, as he escorts me to my bike.
“Aw. Are you sad to see me go, hoss?” I tease him now, punching him lightly on the shoulder, which Reginald weathers with impeccable grace. “You could always keep a spot here warm for me. You know, if my drakes and I ever want to visit.”
“Any visit you and your drakes would like to have here at the Paris Hotel will be comped.” Reginald smiles sidelong at me, which is the height of humor for the stuffy, elegant Siren.
“But we are vastly sorry to see you go, Rikyava; I am. I think you are making the right move, however, to be with those you love. I would make the same decision for Layla and my mates if it came right down to it. And may still, someday… to be closer to them all.”
I feel the long-distance relationship of Layla’s Bind weigh on Reginald now as he frowns, though he says nothing more.
Stepping outside, we have arrived at the grand plaza where I’ve parked my new bike; taking in my souped-up fire engine red Ducati Panigale V4 with a small smile, Reginald gestures to it and I hop on.
Not caring how much my little purple mini-dress hikes up, I don my helmet, my black motorcycle jacket already on over the dress.
I do up the jacket’s buckles, then flip up my visor; Reginald waits, idling with his elegant hands tucked into the pockets of his dove-grey trousers in his immaculate three-piece suit.
And now it’s time to say goodbye.
“Be well, Rikyava,” he says as he takes me in, his eyes shining far brighter blue, like the dawn sky above the ocean, as he feels our farewell. “Come visit us if you’re ever in Paris.”
“Will do.” I smile, though Reginald can barely see it with my helmet on. “Keep tabs on that bestie of mine, Layla, for me. Girl’s a handful.”
“Isn’t she just?” Reginald actually cracks a smile now, as I feel his vast love surge from him like the endless ocean for my bestie Layla Price.
I have a love like that now. My own heart beams bright at the thought of returning to my drakes because Mikkel and Laerke just opened a new flagship club in the recently rebuilt Stockholm downtown, to replace The Chartreuse in Copenhagen.
And I wouldn’t miss their grand opening party tonight for the world.
I salute Reginald, then close my visor and peel out. I don’t know if he waves back; that part of my life is finished now, as I race towards the meadow where I can shift up and head back to Sweden.
But I don’t need to thunder up into my dragon now, as I simply open my Bloodwalker power and make a portal de novo in the field, with Baldur and Bjorn’s bright powers alive inside me.
I emerge in Stockholm, riding my motorcycle through just as the sun sets, glimmering off the newly repaired buildings as it ripples over the canals and water.
Parking my Ducati in an alley near the club, I head to the club’s entrance, pushing on in.
I’m inundated by riveting EDM the moment I arrive; I am also inundated by Mikkel, Laerke, and the rest of my drakes, as I come to the glossy white silberskrae bar and promptly get a drink from Laerke shoved into my hands.
The new flagship club is beautiful; a replica of the mysterious underground city up in Magnussen lands, the place shines alabaster and sky-blue, with incredible carvings of dragons everywhere, plus runic work of Baldur’s design, flowing over absolutely everything.
The drinks they serve are divine, as I shoot mine back and then get another, laughing as my drakes and Laerke haul me out to the dance floor.
We drink, we dance; we dry-fuck each other on the dance floor as we kiss and have a grand old time, until at last, exhaustion descends. As we all make our way to the curb, I get my motorcycle, then Baldur tears open a new portal, ushering us through.
We emerge in Jurggadden as the moon shines far above with the autumnal stars, clear and cold and bright.
The new lodge-house I’ve been building for us with my stepfathers is backed by hot springs on the cliffs.
Crickets chirp in the autumn night as we stumble into the new lodge-hall, and I leave my Ducati outside.
My Bloodbond’s lodge-house is just up the cliffs from my stepfathers. I glance out over the drop-off beyond our front porch, seeing the lights of the newly rebuilt Jurggadden, sparkling all the way down to the quay.
Made entirely of silberskrae, our vaulted lodge shines in the nighttime, with magical lamps hung from the porch and all throughout the eaves.
Though their stout timbers will withstand the wear of ages, our eaves are undecorated yet.
We’ll have our entire lives to carve and decorate them, as we enjoy this place where our heart is.
Our private home, together.
“So, hot springs? Anyone game?” Bjorn suggests with a rumble now as we set our things down in the big master bedroom we all share.
“Oh, you know I’m in.” I laugh as I chuck my items to the floor near the big bed; the lodge is a mess right now, with piles of everyone’s furniture and personal items in silver silk fly-bags and boxes everywhere.
We each have private bedrooms in the lodge, too; but I don’t mind sharing most of my personal space with my drakes, as I change quickly into a plum silk bathrobe embroidered with dragons and snatch up a fluffy white towel.
Even Laerke has a room here, for when she wants to visit. She and the rest of my drakes shake their heads now as food is produced by Mikkel. They need to fill their bellies after dancing, but I need to soak, as I head up the winding path with Bjorn now to the private hot springs behind the house.
The others have promised to join us as soon as they’ve had a quick bite. It leaves Bjorn and me alone together, however, as we shuck our robes at the newly built changing hut and slide on in.
Ready to luxuriate in the warm water, which decadently contrasts with the chill autumn air.
“You look cold, drakaina.” Bjorn slides over to me, wrapping himself around me and cinching close, then kissing me. I luxuriate in more than the water now, as I kiss him back, tongues licking and lips biting, loving having some alone time with my First Drake.
“Not cold anymore,” I joke, as Bjorn chuckles low, then gives me an intense look.
“So, how was your day in Paris? Get everything sorted there?”
“I’ve officially resigned from the Hotel Guard at the Red Letter Hotel Paris. Reginald signed it. So I’m done,” I say with a smile now, though a pang of sadness grips me for my former life there, which I loved so much.
“How are you feeling?” Bjorn is astute as his vivid gold-lavender eyes pierce me beneath the bright moon and stars. “That’s a big deal, Rikyava. Are you ready for it?”
“I’m ready.” I draw him in close, and Bjorn cuddles around me, just holding me in the water as we stare out over the drop-off at the stars, ocean, and moon together.
“It’s been a crazy month,” Bjorn says now, as we finally have a moment to digest everything that’s happened.
“I went up to my Magnussen lands to learn my Jarl duties from Svanhild, instating Olander as my good right hand. Mikkel and Laerke took Emil down to Copenhagen and got all their holdings back, plus his. And Strom’s been at the Old Palace with Annika and Mathilde and all his family, supervising repairs and getting his clan organized so they can rise again from the ashes. ”
“Not to mention that King Huttr and Prince Halfdir have been repairing Stockholm and sorting out the situation with their remaining Jarls, plus smoothing things over with the Ice Dragons,” I say as I contemplate everything that’s passed since our battle up in Magnussen lands.
“It was nice that our King got the Throne Hall at the Grand Palace rebuilt enough to have our ceremony there, recognizing us for our valiant action against the Black Dragon.” Bjorn nods.
“I’m glad I was officially recognized as the new Magnussen Jarl there, and Strom was recognized as the new Eriksson Jarl in the place where our King holds his high seat. ”
“Rhennic, Adrian, Layla, Dusk, even Reginald sent copious amounts of people up from their Kingships and from the Red Letter Hotel Paris, to help rebuild our lives.” My heart shines for all the incredible people I have in my life, both before and after this latest venture.
“I don’t think they’ll ever forgive me for denying them from participating in the final battle against the Black Dragon, but I know they’re pleased to help now. ”
“They love you, Rikyava. We all do. And we always will.” Bjorn cups my face in his strong hand, then solidly kisses me.