Chapter 13 #2
Although her cheeks had stained with pink as her gaze had searched... for him, apparently. She’d immediately glanced away and then down, appearing rather solemn.
As if his gaze had been more hurtful somehow.
They’d spoken until the sun had put Carwyn in its blazing light. It was the first time he’d seen it shine upon her soft-brown skin or chestnut hair, and something about it had bruised his chest.
He’d had the desire to get nearer to see what colour her onyx eyes would become, as he’d seen the hint of engrossing russet brown in them under firelight. But he’d resisted and had chosen to close his eyes until the sun faded to avoid the way she’d shone in the sunlight. Then evening had closed in.
It was only when Carwyn began to yawn incessantly that he interrupted them. The little witch appeared thankful, whereas Aysu huffed and puffed at him about it.
He inwardly chuckled at her dramatics as he shooed her with a paw. “Leave, seasnake. Be gone back to the depths.”
Aysu raised a paw and smacked him in the forehead with the heel of her palm. “I’ll give you seasnake, birdbrain.”
“Squawk squawk.”
Aysu playfully hissed in a manner only her kind could, then laughed with her eyes crinkling in joy. She lowered her face down to Carwyn’s level. “I have enjoyed today. It’s been decades since I met someone new.”
“I adored hearing about your children. Thank you so much for sharing them with me.”
Carwyn offered her a tender smile, one that rendered Kier speechless. It caused her eyes to squint and glimmer with warmth, while her cheeks dimpled slightly.
She can smile like this? In such a lovely and endearing manner? He was annoyed that he was seeing it cast upon someone else. She’s not smiled at me once, even after I gave her a gift.
It was his version of an apology.
Among other things.
Aysu blew a large huff over the female, and her features twitched in restrained disgust. Only to fall suddenly when the dragoness leaned forward, pressed the end of her snout against her midsection, and twisted her head from side to side.
Although it caused Carwyn to bite back a moan of pain and stumble, it was intended to be an affectionate nuzzle.
Aysu pulled away quickly, unaware of the witch’s reaction. “I’ll return another time for us to continue. I’m sure I have hundreds more tales to share with you.”
“I look forward to it.”
Aysu went to climb down the side of the mountain, apparently forgetting his existence as she made to leave without a word. But she paused at the cliff edge with a deep, stern warning. “Eat the fish, Kier.”
Then she left.
She was upset with him that he’d let the last catch go to waste and rot.
Only once he heard the crash of something huge diving through the waves did he finally speak the truth.
“I hate fish,” he admitted quietly, staring at the spot she’d vacated.
“Pardon?” Carwyn asked, lifting her face to him. “Then why does she keep bringing it?”
“Selene likes fish.” He kept his gaze on the starry night horizon glittering across the water. “I give it to her without Aysu knowing, and now she thinks I enjoy it. I don’t have the heart to tell her I find it foul, and I hate the way it stinks up my cave.”
But if it hadn’t been for Aysu, he never would’ve visited Selene’s lair to know that she’d been taken. For that, the sea dragon would always have his thanks.
“So you hunt to trade for something you hate just to give it to your sister?”
He glowered at the sky. “Indeed, like a fool.”
A giggle came from below, and he flicked his gaze to find she’d covered her mouth.
His eyelids lowered in deepening annoyance. “It’s not funny. My life is dictated by the whims of females.”
“I think it’s actually rather sweet!”
Kier nearly gagged at the notion. Him, sweet? Such a thing had never been uttered about him – ever. Sweet was for soft-hearted males who whispered poems and courted females by being submissive, grovelling little pests.
Somehow, this made many of them fawn. Even the largest and greatest dragonesses.
He might not want to wrestle for dominance, but he didn’t want to bend to someone else’s will either. He wanted balance, equality, unity.
But it did make his chest feel good that she thought that about him, especially when he was sure she had a rather unpleasant idea of him. All his own fault, of course. There was much he’d need to seek forgiveness for, if she would allow him.
It was also nice to see her smile at him, and he’d even elicited a laugh, which made her all the prettier to look upon. Especially when she cast those dark eyes up at him with a fondness that hadn’t been there before.
They were glossy, sparkling like the night sky. Easy to get lost in.
“No wonder the WitchSlayer had a change of heart,” he murmured absentmindedly, shaking his head.
Carwyn frowned. “Pardon?”
“Nothing,” he answered as he turned. “It’s not for you to understand. Something pertaining to dragonkind.”
“Ah yes, The Witchlayer, as you so rudely stated the other day,” she said, her voice deeper with a disgusted sneer. “Among other nasty things.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “He made his choice.” Then he bobbed his snout forward, beckoning her. “Come, the hour is late.”
Carwyn lifted her arms in a disbelieving shrug. “I think it’s wrong to speak so ill of him.”
Like a spiked tail had speared him in the gut, ire lanced him swiftly. “You’re getting upset on behalf of someone you don’t know.”
“I actually happen to know quite a lot.”
Kier turned to give her a disbelieving stare. With her hands on her hips and a rather hostile glare in her eyes, she pressed her lips together tightly.
“No witch knows what happened,” he argued, before tsking at her. “I was giving you a compliment.”
“I hardly feel complimented when you act as though being mated to a witch is disgusting.”
His brows shot together. “I implied no such thing.”
“Witchlayer? Heavens, you’re a leatherbrain if you think I don’t know of the great Rurik the WitchSlayer!”
“Of course your kind knows of him,” he shot back. “You must all fear him.”
The little female parted her lips to give him a rather mean grin. “And his mate, Amalia.”
His features fell. “How do you know about–”
“We know everything!” she yelled, stamping a foot.
“The prophecy. The night of the dark moon and how she sacrificed herself for him. Our family knows the truth.” Then she narrowed her eyes as she pointed at him.
“And how he killed Strolguil the Vast, something no other dragon has been able to accomplish in centuries.” She threw her arms in front of her, waving them with disgust. “And yet you call him the Witchlayer, as if that incredible feat isn’t good enough to allow him to mate with whomever he wishes. ”
Kier reared his head back at her rant, surprised he was being admonished for this. “Well, yes. He may mate with whatever creature he so chooses, as was approved by the Elders.”
“But you mock him! As if witches are so foul that it discredits his feats.”
“Because most are! What most of your kind have done–”
“I’m not!” she screamed, stamping a foot again, her cheeks pinkening from anger.
“I actually happen to think I’m quite lovely!
” Then she huffed out a sigh as she shook her head.
“I’m sure Amalia is as well, otherwise he wouldn’t have chosen her.
Some of us aren’t abhorrent, and it hurts to have that prejudice cast upon us... on me.”
Is this why she was upset with me the other day? Had he known she would understand, he might not have been so thoughtless with his words. Alas, I cannot take it back, nor do I particularly want to.
How he felt was true. Although... for some reason it was dwindling the longer he spent around her. She wasn’t abhorrent, and as she so boldly and confidently stated, she was lovely in all manner of ways. And her stating that fact made it even more apparent to him. He liked her self-confidence.
He even found her constant arguing and defiance charming and endearing. A battle of wits he often lost to, but he never quite felt annoyed about it.
Such things were the reason he could see why Rurik had faltered, even if Kier refused to accept such a softening of will for himself.
He sighed. “You must understand this comes from a place of hurt as well. We have all faced loss and grief due to your kind. It bothers many of us that Rurik and the ShadowHunter have chosen witches as mates, but it does also give us hope for change.”