Chapter 25
Stesha
Three shirts. A cloak. A blanket. All stolen from my apartment these past few weeks, and I know by whom. Fucking hell, Zenevieve. Are you trying to make yourself sick again?
I fume as I pace up and down, wondering what the hell she’s playing at. Are we going to do this all over again? Torment each other with wanting until my rut makes me so ravenous for her that I pull her into my arms and sink my dragines into her nape?
She still craves me. She still takes comfort from my scent. I moan softly as memories of her in my arms flood my mind.
I shove the beautiful memories of Zenevieve aside because I deserve none of them. I have not brought one wild dragon into the flare. Emmeric yet lives, and he could cause her more suffering. I am a poor excuse for an Alpha.
Speaking of a poor excuse for an Alpha, Kane and Auryn attack the flare and are defeated by Lady Isavelle riding her Omega dragon, Esmeral.
Kane is no threat, and I could kill him.
I want to kill him, but it turns out that he can help Maledin.
He’ll bring the southern barrier down that’s shielding Emmeric so we can kill him once and for all, but he’ll only do it if he can have his mate back.
No one wants to see the Omega witch return to a man who has abused her, but she agrees to go without a tremble, without a sob.
Princess Mirelle and Queen Magritte would have been in floods of tears or even hysterics.
Lady Isavelle looks like she wants to murder Kane with her own hands.
The Omegas of New Maledin are different and surprising.
Over the coming weeks, I realize that there’s a plot against Zabriel’s mate. The fact that a future queen of Maledin is a witch has upset many, but it turns out that some of those people are part of Zabriel’s inner circle.
I blade swore with Zabriel to protect his mate, which is why I follow Godric on the day that Lady Isavelle rescues all the villagers of western Maledin that Emmeric put into magical suspension.
While I am saving his mate’s life, Zabriel is the one to come face to face with his brother, and he comes off worse for it.
I’m furious that I wasn’t able to look Emmeric in the eye after all these years and take my chance at running him through with my sword.
“I could have done it,” I mutter bitterly to my dragon as I tend to the flare back at the dragongrounds. Nilak bares her teeth. She wishes she could have ripped him limb from limb.
Zabriel is gravely injured, and I go up to the Flame Temple to see how the king fares. Once I’m assured that he will recover, I leave the temple with Lady Isavelle. Outside in the corridor, I come face to face with Zenevieve for the first time in five hundred years, and my world screams to a halt.
I was not prepared for how bright her hazel eyes are, or how lush her lower lip is when it’s caught in surprise between her teeth.
Her skin is fresher than the last time I saw her, and there’s a softness to her cheeks and body.
She’s no longer the walking skeleton I made of her with lavish sickness.
I was told she’s been ill, but she looks wonderful, as though her sleep has been dreamless and her appetite excellent.
Her sweet scent surrounds her, making my heart pound.
I’m vaguely aware of Lady Isavelle leaving us alone together. Silence stretches between us while Zenevieve searches my face as hungrily as I’m searching hers.
Looking shyly up at me from beneath her lashes, she says, “I like how you’re wearing your hair these days, dragonmaster.”
I’ve been leaving my hair loose of late, even when I’m working. It was loose when I was at home with her. It was loose when we were up on that mountain together. It makes me feel closer to her.
I crave to reach for her, but I make myself lower my eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened. You must hate me.”
She steps closer, trying to meet my gaze. “I did try for a little while. I should not have said you have a heart of ice.”
“It doesn’t matter. I deserve far worse than a few angry words. Emmeric caught you because you were too weak to fly with the dragon army. How he must have made you suffer,” I say bitterly, almost unable to get the words out.
She gives me a sad smile. “Perhaps he did, but I don’t remember anything.
Lavish sickness or not, Emmeric would have taken me anyway.
He was looking for me that day. I remember that much and then…
nothing.” She hesitates, and then says, “Stesha, I can see you blame yourself for what happened to me, but it’s not your fault. I forg—”
I put a finger over her lips. “I do not allow you to forgive me.”
She seizes my hand and holds it tight. “That is not up to you.”
“I have not earned your forgiveness, and so I don’t accept it. I have not slain your enemies. I have not brought you any dragons that you might ride. Because of me, Minta is dead. How am I worthy of your forgiveness? How am I worthy of anything?”
I try to pull my hand from her grasp, but instead she tugs me closer.
“Look at me,” she demands.
I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the ground because I don’t deserve to look upon her face.
“Stesha, look at me. Or are you a coward?”
A coward? I have been avoiding her eyes because I’m afraid of falling into them, but my Alpha rears up in defiance of being called a coward. I look up, and I’m instantly captured by her gaze.
Fuck.
Something deep inside me snaps. I grasp Zenevieve with both hands and snatch her against my chest. Holding her tight, I bury my face in her throat and breathe in deeply, relishing what I don’t deserve.
Inhaling deep lungfuls of her scent. For the first time in five hundred years, my body cries out in relief.
Panting, my lips find her ear. “I found the wild dragons. I fought Kane and brought the witch Ravenna to safety. The queen’s life was threatened by traitors, and I saved her. I performed these deeds in your name.”
I feel her arms tighten around me. The corridor is deserted. It’s just the two of us locked around each other.
“In my name?” she whispers hopefully.
“While you lay close to death from lavish sickness, I promised the gods that if you survived, I would devote my life to you. Everything I do is in your name. When it is enough, then you must consider whether you forgive me.”
“But I—”
“When it is enough.”
“Who will decide when it is enough?”
I pull back and glare at her. “I will.”
Her eyes flash with indignation. “Five hundred years, and you are still the most stubborn man I have ever known.”
I press my forehead to hers, the blade of my nose sliding against the soft tip of hers. “Five hundred years, and you are more beautiful than ever.”
Zenevieve’s eyes widen. Her surprised breath fans my lips.
Even without Minta’s coloring, Zenevieve is dazzlingly beautiful. Need like I’ve never known before, even in my most ravenous ruts, claws at my chest. Blood thunders in my ears. I crave to kiss her, but I tear myself away from her and stride down the corridor.
As soon as Zabriel has recovered from his confrontation with Emmeric, he makes plans for the dragon army to attack Emmeric’s stronghold in the south. It should work, presuming Kane keeps his word and brings the southern barrier down. Though that is presuming a lot.
Emmeric is holding Shar prisoner in the base of a tower, clad in magical chains, a fact that has preoccupied me, and especially Zenevieve. I can attempt to free him during the battle.
As we stand around the table in the War Room with Zabriel planning the assault, Zenevieve steps forward. “I want to come with you, dragonmaster. Shar always trusted me. I can calm him if he panics.”
Her face is pale, and she looks small but determined.
As she is dragonless, the only way for her to rescue Shar is if another rider takes her with them.
My former ward loved Shar as much as her own dragon.
I could probably free him by myself with Nilak, but the help of another experienced dragonrider would be welcome.
It would mean taking Zenevieve into battle, something I don’t want to do when she’s still recovering from her ordeal, but I can see from her stubborn expression that if I say no, she’ll ask another dragonrider.
Better that she’s with me. No one cares more about her safety than me. And maybe I just want her with me, like the old days.
Wordlessly, I nod.
Her tense shoulders relax. “Thank you, dragonmaster.”
After the meeting is over, I turn toward Zenevieve, expecting her to want to discuss Shar’s rescue, but all I see is her back as she flees through the door and down the corridor.
She continues to avoid me every single day leading up to the battle. Maybe in fear that I might change my mind and tell her she can’t come with me. I grit my teeth in annoyance. Probably. I do have a habit of changing my mind about what I want.
In the middle of the night on the eve of battle, all the dragonriders assemble at the dragongrounds. Zenevieve meets me beside Nilak with her hair in a braid and a warm cloak around her shoulders. There’s a spark of hope in her eyes, and it’s the thought of getting Shar back that’s put it there.
I hold out my hand to her like I always used to when we flew together. It wouldn’t surprise me if she turned her nose up at my offer of help and climbed up Nilak by herself, but she doesn’t. She rests her cool, slender fingers on my palm.
I swallow hard as tiny lightning bolts flash under my skin. I tug her to me, and she rests her arms lightly around my neck. I wrap an arm around her hips, pull her tightly against me, and carry her up onto Nilak.
It’s just like before, but so unlike before. I’m excessively aware of her body pressed against mine in a way I never was. I find myself admiring the sweet curve of her cheek. The delicate column of her throat