Chapter 44
Rosomon
“Are you sure that Nyxarious died?” I ask Zogar. “Should we go back to check?”
Moments ago, I saw a man impaled on a spike and a dragon crash into the side of a mountain, and the horrors reverberate in my mind as if I’ve woken from a nightmare.
Nyxarious is gone, my queen. Zogar’s tone is somber.
I want to ask if it was an accident but can’t form the words.
Her death was no accident, Zogar says with deep sadness in his voice. I failed her.
“Zogar.” I stroke his scales. “There’s nothing you could have done.”
He swoops to the side, and a thrill races through me. A soft smile pierces my sadness, and my gratitude for Zogar grows yet again.
Then his mood shifts abruptly.
Saxon is free.
My heart soars. “Where is he? Is he well? When can I see him?”
Surath is carrying him to the Draconveil Valley. We will meet them there.
Zogar’s mood is muddled, or perhaps I’m too filled with my own joy and anticipation to recognize his feelings. Saxon is alive! He is safe!
We circle the valley twice and then land to the side of it, near the woods that lead to that beautiful stream Surath and I found.
Surath says her human needs to bathe.
I smile. Surath’s priorities are different than mine. I don’t care how filthy Saxon is, I just need to be in his arms and to hold him in mine. Unless his injuries are too dire. Treacher said he’d been tortured.
Don’t torture yourself, my queen. Your worries will have answers soon.
We land, and I dismount. The moment my feet touch the ground, I look skyward, scanning the ridge of mountains that Surath is likely to fly across.
Butterflies swarm in my belly. I can’t keep still, and I wear a path through the field of flowers and grasses, the scent of the trampled foliage adding to my expectancy.
Finally, I’m rewarded with teal-tinged silver flashing in the sun between two mountain peaks. Surath is still too far away for me to see Saxon now that I’m not atop Zogar.
“Surath says he’s weak.”
I turn toward Zogar, now in his human form and standing a few feet behind me. How long has he been there?
“But while he has injuries,” he continues, “Surath says you’ll find him otherwise well.”
“Thank you,” I say softly. “I’m beyond grateful he’s alive. That he’s free.” I turn back toward the mountains and Zogar steps up beside me, sliding his hand onto my shoulder.
“Has Surath told you more about his suffering?”
Zogar’s hand slides down my back. “You should ask Saxon these questions.
Surath and Saxon soar over our heads, and my heart lifts up to join them. As she descends, they circle the valley three times, and I race toward the spot she chooses to land.
Saxon’s gold and chestnut hair doesn’t shine or flow behind him like I remember, and his facial hair has grown, but those are the only indications of his ordeal from this distance. Surath digs in her wing at a very gentle angle, and Saxon slides down to dismount.
Saxon’s face beams as I run toward him. Miraculously, he strides toward me, looking steadier and stronger than I could have imagined.
Our bodies crash together, and in each other’s arms, my breaths come so quickly it’s like I’ve run for hours at top speed.
I press my cheek against his chest, inhaling his scent, the wind and forest aroma of him now tinged with dampness and rot.
Remembering his potential injuries, I loosen my hold and look up into his eyes, finding them glassy with tears.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask. “You’re crying.”
A broad smile overtakes his expression. “You’re the one who’s crying. And no, you didn’t hurt me one bit.”
Salt hits my lips, and I realize that he’s right. His hands thread into my hair and he gently licks my tears away, first from my cheeks, then my lips, and then he kisses me tenderly.
I rise onto my toes hoping to deepen the kiss, but he pulls back.
“I am hurting you.” I look into his eyes for evidence of the pain he’s too proud to admit.
“No, ma chérie.” His fingers stroke my scalp.
“But I require some water. Both to drink and to bathe. Once I’m clean, I’ll embrace you properly.
” Heat tinges the golden specks in his beautiful but tired brown eyes, and he takes a couple of steps back from me.
“Surath told me there’s a stream in these woods. I’ll return to you soon.”
He strides away from me, and it takes every ounce of my energy to keep from running after him.
But I’m suddenly very aware of Zogar’s potent presence.
I wish he’d been clearer about how our marriage has changed.
I have no idea if he’ll be deeply hurt—or furious—if I continue my relationship with Saxon.
Zogar must know that I want this. It’s difficult to imagine that my desires haven’t been clear in my thoughts as I rode him.
Zogar’s arm, heavy and strong, slides over my shoulders, and my racing heart immediately starts to calm. “Go to him, my love.”
I look up into his eyes to be sure that I heard him right.
“Saxon needs you. I’ll await your return.” He bends to press a kiss against the top of my head, and my heart fills with joy.
What have I ever done to deserve such a man, one who’s willing to care about Saxon’s needs and my desire to help him, putting both of us above his clearly possessive feelings.
“Thank you.” I smile up at my husband.
He nods, and his arm slides off my shoulders. “Go. Be with him.” He takes a few steps back, the gesture and words giving me further permission to be with Saxon—to really be with him. I hope.
I want to clarify Zogar’s meaning, but I’m too impatient and don’t want to risk the chance that he’ll ask me not to allow anything sexual to happen.
I fight the urge to run into the woods. I don’t want to seem too eager, lest I hurt Zogar’s feelings further. But as soon as I find the path, I move quickly through the woods, looking for evidence of Saxon and wanting to get to him as quickly as possible.
I reach the stream before catching any sight of him, and then glance in both directions, trying to pick one.
When I was here with Surath, she speculated that there might be a waterfall at the point where the woods meet the edge of the mountain, so I head that direction.
She might have shared that information with Saxon as they flew.
One way or another, I’ll find him.
Dashing along the edge of the stream, I leap over rocks and duck under branches that extend out of from woods. The gurgling sound of water turns into a rush that keeps me from hearing any signs of Saxon.
Turning around a bend in the stream, I stop and gasp. There is indeed a waterfall ahead, one that falls in stages from high above, and the final section of falling water splashes into a bright pool.
A large, beautiful stag is swimming through the water, his head turned toward me. The stag is still some distance away, but I know that it’s Saxon. Mostly because of how intently his eyes are focused on me.
Saxon can shift on this side of the veil, which answers one of the many questions I have without my having to ask it. He drops under the water. Even the very tips of his antlers disappear.
I break into a run, panicked, my full body remembering what happened to Zogar in the water. Do stag shifters also have heavy bones? The longer he remains submerged, the higher my fear rises. Even the bubbles and ripples have disbursed.
I’m about twenty hand-spans away, trying to judge how close I need to be to dive into the pool without breaking my neck on the rocky edge.
Saxon’s head emerges. His human head.
The grin on his face stops me in my tracks, but then I run again, stripping off my riding uniform as I go, stopping at the edge to rid my feet and legs of the boots and breeches.
I dive into the pool, surfacing close to Saxon, and he pulls me into his arms.
“Oh, how I have missed you, ma chérie.”
“It can’t possibly be as much as I’ve missed you.”
We kiss, and the water around us heats, almost as if there’s a hot spring feeding it, but I know the change in temperature is from our love and the heat of our passion. His stiffness rubs my hip, lifting my need, but also my concerns.
I break the kiss. “Before we…” I draw a long breath, not wanting to even think about the possibility that I might not be free to be with him ever again.
As things sit, I feel as if I should discuss it with Zogar first. Surath advised me not to seek my husband’s permission, but it’s more than just permission. I care about my marriage. I care about Zogar. I love him. But I love Saxon too.
I was a coward not to discuss this more openly with Zogar, but so much has been going on.
“We should talk first,” I tell Saxon. “We should tell each other all that’s happened.”
He nods, and we swim to the rocks at the edge of the pool.
“I’ll help you get out,” he says, coming behind me as my hands rest on top of a flat rock.
I glance over my shoulder. “You’re the one who’s hurt. I should be helping you.”
His strong arms encircle me, and he pulls me against him. “Surath says you’ve been through a lot, too.”
I rest my head against his shoulder behind me, loving how it feels to be this close to him again. “I’m absolutely fine. I was in danger—” grave danger “—but Zogar came to my rescue.”
“I must thank him.” Saxon’s hand strokes my belly, teasing lower and inciting a quick intake of air and a deep ache of longing, but before his fingers slip lower, his hands grip my waist. “I’ll give you a boost. Ready?”
“You really don’t need to,” I say, but I brace my hands against the rock’s surface and push down. He easily lifts me out of the water, and I turn to sit on the edge of the rock.
He follows me in a fluid motion, landing next to me, his erection jutting up from his lap.
I’m in awe of this man. “You still have so much strength, lifting me from the water—”
“I’m taller.” He winks. “My feet were braced on a rock below. Getting out wasn’t that hard.”