Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
RAOUL
The wind currents over the Emberforge Mountain Range were always predictable, steady thermals rising from the volcanic vents below, cool downdrafts from the glacial peaks above. I’d flown this route thousands of times and could navigate it in my sleep.
Tonight, nothing was predictable.
The witch on my back had somehow turned my familiar flight path into a meteorological experiment. Small pockets of warmth bloomed where there should be cold, gentle updrafts appeared exactly where I needed them, and the turbulence that usually plagued this corridor had smoothed into glass.
She was doing it unconsciously. I could feel her magic responding to my flight patterns, adjusting atmospheric conditions to make my journey easier. Our magic was harmonizing, dragon fire and weather witchcraft creating perfect symbiosis, and she didn’t seem to realize it.
It should not be possible. Magic didn’t just cooperate like that, not without deliberate spell work and careful calibration.
And as for telepathy…
I didn’t want to think about why I could speak to her in her mind.
I banked slightly, testing, and felt her weight shift on my spine. This wasn’t the terrified clinging I’d expected, but a lean as she tried to get a better view of the cloud formation we were passing through.
“Fascinating,” she said, barely audible over the wind. “The crystalline structure at this altitude is completely different from ground-level formations.”
Her fingers absently stroked along one of my spinal ridges, the way one might pet a cat while reading a book. The sensation shot through my body like lightning.
I nearly dropped fifty feet in altitude.
Focus. I corrected my flight path, grateful she couldn’t see my face. In dragon form, I could feel everything with heightened sensitivity. Every shift of her weight, every touch of her fingers, the warmth of her thighs pressed against my spine where she sat astride me.
I had not accounted for how intimate flight with my new bride would be.
Fletcher was plastered against Adele, his eyes squeezed shut, projecting waves of terror so strongly I could sense them.
Almost there, I told Adele in her mind, keeping my voice neutral.
“Oh, wonderful,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to measure the thermal differential between peak altitude and valley floor. Do you think we could take this route regularly? The data would be invaluable for my predictive models.”
She wanted to use me as a research vehicle.
My dragon pride bristled. I was a king, not a glorified weather balloon.
But beneath the insult, something else stirred, something that noticed how her enthusiasm made her voice brighten. How she’d unconsciously snuggled closer to my warmth as we climbed to colder altitudes. How she fit perfectly in the curve of my spine as though she’d been designed to ride there.
I crushed the observations immediately.
This was a political arrangement. I’d been perfectly clear about my intentions when I’d agreed to Elizabeth Thornwick’s proposal.
This was a treaty marriage, nothing more.
I would provide Adele with status and protection.
She would strengthen the alliance between our peoples.
We would maintain a polite, distant partnership.
The fact that she’d arrived two hours late to our wedding, disheveled and rambling about thermal patterns, only confirmed we were ideally suited for this arrangement. She clearly had no interest in me personally.
Which was exactly the way I wanted it.
The faint sting in my chest was simply wounded pride.
I was accustomed to women trying to charm me or position themselves for my attention.
Adele hadn’t even seemed to notice I was male.
She’d looked at me the way she might regard an interesting weather phenomenon worthy of study, but not with any personal interest.
Perfect, I told myself. Uncomplicated.
The entrance to the Emberforge caverns eventually came into view, a huge opening carved into the mountain face, flanked by twin waterfalls that caught the moonlight. I angled my wings for descent, hearing Adele’s delighted gasp as we dove.
Her hair whipped backward, tangling in my spinal ridges. I could smell her—floral and clean, and mixed with the sharp scent of ozone I’d heard clung to weather witches.
She smelled amazing.
I focused on my landing approach with more concentration than it required.
The cavern entrance was broad enough for three dragons my size to fly through abreast. I tucked my wings and glided smoothly into the mountain’s heart, where my kingdom sprawled.
The main corridor opened ahead of us.
Adele sucked in a breath. “Oh,” she whispered.
I’d forgotten how it looked to newcomers. To me, it was simply home, functional, orderly, and predictable. But through her eyes, it must appear stunning.
The walls curved upward into natural arches, the stone polished smooth by generations of dragon fire until it gleamed like dark glass.
Gemstones glowing with captured dragon flame had been embedded in the walls at regular intervals.
Sapphires cast cool blue light, emeralds washing sections in verdant green, and rubies pulsed with warm crimson.
The effect created pools of color that shifted as we passed and painted Adele’s pale skin in jewel tones.
The floor beneath my claws had been inlaid with geometric patterns of precious metals, forming intricate designs that mapped the history of my bloodline. Tapestries hung between the gemstone sconces, woven from fireproof dragon silk, depicting the founding of our kingdom.
A handful of my people moved through the courtyard at this late hour. They stopped and bowed, their eyes widening at the sight of the witch on my back. I could feel their curiosity like a physical weight.
We’ll make formal introductions in the morning, I told Adele. It’s late.
“Of course,” she said, but she was so busy twisting to look at everything, she nearly unseated herself.
“Are those actual dragon scales in the tapestries? And the metallurgical work in the floor is extraordinary. The precision required to create those joins without visible seams would require temperatures hot enough to—”
She was also analyzing my home like a research project.
Allow me to help you down, I said.
“Oh, no, I can do it. It looks pretty simple.”
All right. I waited for her to dismount. She tumbled off me gracelessly, making an oof sound when she reached the polished floor. Fletcher slid off after her, immediately sprawling flat as if to reassure himself that solid ground still existed.
She peered around as I shifted back into my regular form—completely clothed in the same outfit.
She glanced my way and snorted. “I’d wondered.”
“About what?” I rasped. My voice was always scratchy after shifting. It had nothing to do with this strangely appealing witch.
“If you’d wind up naked.”
I blinked. “What would you do if I was?”
Her smile rose, and my heart came to a standstill. “Rip off the skirt of my gown and give it to you to cover yourself up with.”
“What if I wanted to stride about naked?”
Her gaze slid down my form in a much too clinical way. “I can’t say that I’d be horribly upset about that.”
She’d actually notice me? I wasn’t sure if I should be glad that she had noticed me or irritated that it had taken her this long to see I existed.
“Allow me to show you to your rooms.” With her pacing beside me, her neck twisting in all directions to take everything in, and Fletcher padding along with us, I took a route that passed through the Hall of Histories, where the largest gemstones were displayed, just to hear her small sounds of wonder.
This was foolish. I needed to deposit her in the guest quarters I’d ordered prepared that were three levels down the main staircase, in the comfortable but isolated wing reserved for visiting dignitaries. Far enough from my private chambers to maintain proper distance.
Instead, I turned toward the ascending corridor at the end of the hall that led to my level.
What was I doing?
Being practical. The guest quarters aren’t properly aired. My chambers had the best views for her weather observations.
Lies, and I knew it.
The truth was simpler and more disturbing. I wanted her near.
My private chambers occupied the highest level of the caverns and had been carved into the mountain’s peak.
Big windows opened onto the eastern valley, providing unobstructed views of the Emberforge Mountain Range.
The main room was spacious, furnished with pieces I’d collected over decades, including a desk of polished mystwood, chairs upholstered in dragon silk, and bookshelves carved directly into the stone walls.
And everywhere, organized with meticulous precision, lay my collection.
Jewelry boxes lined three walls, each labeled and categorized.
Necklaces, rings, bracelets, crowns. Thousands of pieces, each representing a memory, a moment, an achievement.
My mother’s wedding circlet. My father’s coronation ring.
The silver chain my younger sister had worn when she’d made her first transformation.
I’d told myself for years that I maintained the collection out of duty, that it was a preservation of history similar to the hall a few stories below.
But seeing it through Adele’s eyes, I recognized it for what it was, a desperate grasping at permanence.
If I could preserve these objects, catalog them, protect them, perhaps I could hold on to the people they represented.
Perhaps I wouldn’t lose anyone else.
Adele turned in a slow circle, taking in the room with sharp eyes that missed nothing.
“These are your rooms,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” I tugged on the hem of my jacket. “They’re also the chambers best suited for your research. The eastern exposure, particularly from the balcony, provides optimal conditions for weather observation.”
Her eyebrows rose slightly. “You’re giving me your chambers?”