Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

“You good with that?”

Sitting in the war room around the council table with the royal court, lieutenants, and a few trusted guards, Jazdon studied Finn’s face.

The young noble had been oddly quiet while they’d planned the event that would bring King Daltor into their territory.

“Let me get this straight,” Finn said with a tip of his head, elbows on the table. The young shifter looked first at him and then his father. “You want to invite Daltor here along with his royal court. Once he’s here, you want to capture him and force him to talk.”

“More than likely it will not happen in that exact manner, but yes,” King Reykur said with a nod. “It makes more sense than trying to figure out hidden meanings in old songs.”

Finn seemed ready to laugh, but he held it back. “And what makes you think he will come? Or more importantly will plan his own attack once he’s here?”

“He won’t plan an attack on our soil,” Jazdon said, reaching for Finn’s hand, he linked their fingers.

Finn closed his eyes for a brief moment and then shook his head. “My gut tells me that he’s smarter than you all think he is.”

“What do you mean?” he frowned at Finn.

“I mean…don’t you think by now that it’s probable that Daltor is in collaboration with the Parsmitt?”

“Yes, we’ve thought of that,” the king said quietly.

“And you’re ready to go to war with both the Parsmitt and Greengile at this event?” Finn asked, holding the king’s gaze.

Jazdon leaned back into his chair as the large room dropped into silence as much as possible for it being a war room with wall monitors on one side and internet servers on the other.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Finn said. “Let me toss out another idea. Why do you think Daltor will even come? He’ll know it’s a setup.”

“He’ll come,” Jazdon murmured.

Finn bounced his gaze from him to the king and back again.

“Why?” Finn said with a squinted look.

“Because we plan to announce your coronation.”

“M…m…my what?” Finn’s voice waivered and Jazdon tightened their linked fingers together.

“Coronation. As Jaz’s consort. It will be a massive celebration and clans from all over will be falling over themselves to attend,” Merlon piped up from where he sat next to Vargas. “We will spare no expense and I’ve already started creating your robes of honor. Of course, they will match Jazdon’s.”

Jazdon caught Finn’s hand as Merlon talked and he drew the young noble’s fingers to his lips. He placed a kiss on Finn’s skin. The distraction worked by snapping Finn’s dazed eyes to his.

Merlon had stopped speaking and was smiling widely at them from across the table.

“We want you as part of our royal court and after you’re marr…” the king stopped.

Jazdon scowled at his father.

“After I’m marr…?” Finn said, his voice filled with confusion.

“Excuse us,” he growled and pulled Finn to his feet.

Not giving the young dragon a chance to protest or process, Jazdon guided Finn out the door, down the hallway and into a large study. He propelled Finn farther inside and closed and locked the door. He placed his back against the wood and watched as Finn took in the room that Jazdon used as an office. He could definitely see why Finn thought they lived in the past, the room was something out of a Victorian history book with winged back chairs, gold and red paisley carpet, wood shelves with books in every nook and cranny. The windows were beveled and double paned to keep back the cold and wind, and the air was filled with the scent of cedar.

Finn slowly turned back to face him, and Jazdon drew in a deep breath.

He blew it out.

When he didn’t speak, Finn frowned at him.

“What?” Finn said.

“I love you.”

Shock widened Finn’s eyes. “You’ve never said that.”

“I did too,” he scowled.

“Um no… you said ‘same.”

Jazdon’s eyebrows flew up and he gave a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “That was wrong of me.”

“You think?” Finn smirked, his full lips so fucking tempting.

“Yes. I should have shouted it to the skies.”

Finn’s soft chuckle filled the room. “So dramatic.”

“I want you in my life.”

“I’m here.” Finn threw out his arms with a smile.

“I’m serious.”

Swallowing nervously, Jazdon reached into his pocket and closed his hand around the ring box that contained the ring his grandfather had passed down to him. He pulled out the small gold box with its intricate red stitching and knelt down on one knee.

Finn’s mouth dropped open.

“I wanted to do this later. I wanted to make a big production out of it with candles and flowers. I wanted to make this moment as special as you are,” he admitted gruffly. His eyes burned as he said the words, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

The young noble’s hands flew to his mouth.

All Jazdon could see in Finn’s eyes was fear outweighing anything else and his gut churned with the knowledge that he may have jumped the fucking gun.

But how could he not do this?

When he knew without a shadow of doubt that Finn would be the first and last love of his life?

He held out the box with one hand and lifted the lid with the other. The ring inside gleamed with a wicked light of a metal and stone that was unlike anything Finn had probably ever seen. Both the metal and stone had been fashioned with earthly minerals, but it had been his grandfather’s dragon fire that had turned the setting and stone into what it was today.

The metal was a tangled mixture of gold, silver, and copper. The stone, one of blazing fire, with its center of gold similar to a flickering flame.

Jazdon studied the reflection of the stone in Finn’s eyes when the royal moved closer.

“Finn, I knew the moment I held you in my arms on the rocky cliffs that very first day that you were unlike anyone I’d ever met before,” he said.

The man’s eyes flew from the ring to his, their gazes locked.

“I fell in love with you at the same time my dragon fell for yours.”

One of Finn’s eyebrows quirked at that and Jazdon’s lips twitched.

“Will you marry me?”

****

“I-I don’t know what to say, Jaz.”

“What do you mean?” Jaz said, pulling the ring back and frowning. “Are you refusing me?”

“No. Of course, I’ll marry you.”

“Well, then?” Jaz pulled him into his arms, put a hand on the back of his neck and bent to kiss him. Finn parted his lips and felt Jaz’s soft lips brush over his own, once and then again, as if warning him he was about to claim him thoroughly and there was no going back. Then the hand on the back of his neck tightened, and Jaz crushed his lips down on Finn’s. Those lush lips moved over his and ground down into them with a claiming kiss. Finn put his hands up to the prince’s jacket and curled his fingers into the lapels, pulling back for breath and staring up into his face. The smoldering eyes stared back down at him with satisfaction, before he lowered his lips toward Finn’s again.

Slipping his tongue inside Finn’s mouth, he tangled it with Finn’s. The prince’s hand fell away from the back of his head and his hands dropped down to Finn’s ass in a possessive way, as he pulled Finn’s hips up to grind against his. Finn was sighing into Jaz’s mouth and giving in, allowing him to have his way, which he knew was what the prince craved all along.

“That’s it, just let me have you,” Jaz said. “You’re mine now. My gorgeous mate.”

“That works both ways, you know.”

“Why don’t you show me?”

“Wait—first I want to see my ring again. You snatched it away before I could.”

“By all means.” Jaz pulled the ring from its box and slipped it onto Finn’s finger. It was a little large but could easily be adjusted. Finn stared down at it as he held out his hand.

“It’s a beautiful ring. I used to see people in movies do this all the time and always thought it was dumb, but now I totally get it. It makes it real, doesn’t it?”

“As real as it gets. You’ll be my consort and a Greengile king in your own right. Between the Isatolia and the Greengile, we’ll create the greatest dynasty in our history.”

Finn gave a shaky laugh. “I think we’re skipping a few steps.”

“If you’re talking about getting rid of Daltor, he’s a usurper. You’re the rightful king.”

“But first we have to prove it.”

“Then we will. This is the Parsmitt’s worst nightmare, and they’ll attack as soon as we depose the Greengile king.”

“Depose him or kill him?”

Jaz gave him a grim smile. “What’s the difference? It’s all the same in the end.”

Finn turned away, feeling uncomfortable. He wasn’t quite ready to be so cavalier about taking someone’s life. “Tell me why the Parsmitt would hate the idea of an alliance between you and me again.”

“Obviously, because with you as the Greengile King, we would then have control over all of the Greengile. Without them, the Parsmitt wouldn’t be able to breed and would eventually die out.”

“Why wouldn’t they be able to breed?”

“Because I wouldn’t allow it.”

“You wouldn’t? I believe you just said I’d be the Greengile king.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I think I do. And what about the attempts on my life? We’ve covered the fact that someone has been trying to get rid of me since I got here. Maybe someone knows exactly who I am and wants to stop any such alliance between you and me.”

“So, we simply get rid of them first.”

“You make it sound so easy—I hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right. Now let’s go back to the king and tell him our news, so he can get the plans started for the wedding and your coronation. And we can discuss our plans for Daltor.”

“Wait, Jaz. I’d like to talk about this some more.”

But before he could protest further, Jaz took his hand and walked him back to the room they’d left. Once inside, Jaz guided Finn to the council table. Everyone in the room abruptly stopped talking, looking at them expectantly. Jaz grinned at his father and held up Finn’s hand to show off the ring.

Immediately, council members were jumping to their feet, coming toward them to congratulate them, and King Reykur smiled and nodded. “Congratulations, Jazdon. A historic day for us and the Greengiles, to be sure.” He clapped his hands together and turned to Merlon. “Go ahead with the plans for the coronation ceremony. Send out the invitations to all the clans at once.”

“To the Parsmitt too?” Finn asked. “I thought you hated them and were at war with them?

“We have a treaty with the Parsmitt. They break it from time to time. We punish them and then we go back to business as usual. It’s traditional for all the clans to come together when there’s a coronation.”

“So no hard feelings, huh?”

The king shrugged and laughed.

Finn shook his head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand any of this. I don’t think the Parsmitt have suddenly had a change of heart. They’re probably still after me. Yet you’re inviting all the clans here to witness my coronation and then we’ll sit around and drink champagne while Daltor and I fight it out to the death to see who the king of the Greengiles will be?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jaz said, shaking his head. “Greengiles don’t fight. The royals can fight, of course. The king could, if he chose to, but it would be rare and almost unheard of. He’ll choose a champion for himself, and that person will fight for him. I expect Daltor will choose the Parsmitt king, while I’ll naturally be your champion. When I win, that will solve our problem.”

“While I do what? Sit around and look pretty?”

Jaz laughed and leaned over to kiss him. “You’d be good at that.”

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear. Daltor can choose whoever he wants as his champion or whatever, but I fight my own battles. And I’ll decide what to do about Daltor. That’s non-negotiable.”

A stunned silence fell over the hall.  Jazdon turned to Finn in surprised disbelief.

“I won’t allow you to risk yourself in that way!” he shouted, his face turning dark red.

“You won’t what? Allow me? You’ve got to be joking. I’m not your property, Jazdon, so get that shit out of your head right now.”

“Don’t you trust me to do the job? Is that it?”

“It’s not a matter of trust—but while we’re on the subject, I guess you’re saying you don’t trust me to do what you want me to do. Like I’m some damn puppet.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not me who’s being ridiculous. It’s you, if you honestly think I’d let you fight my battles for me. And it happens that I haven’t decided what to do about Daltor yet. When I do, I’ll let you know.”

“What are you talking about? Of course, you have to kill him. He won’t just step down. Get those stupid human ideas out of your head. You live here now.”

“And dragons are supposed to be so much smarter than humans, right? Not that I’ve seen! I have to give Daltor the chance to present his case. We have nothing but stories and circumstantial evidence. What if he’s innocent?”

“And what if he’s not? You’ve met the man—you’ve seen the kind of person he is!”

“Yeah, I’ve met him. I didn’t like him. So what? Even a criminal deserves to present a defense. What kind of place is this? Are people not presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law?”

“This isn’t America, Finn. Get that notion out of your head. You’re Greengile and Isatolia now through marriage to me. Get your head out of your ass.”

Finn swung at him then, though Jazdon caught his fist and twisted it around to his back. They glared at each other, face to face until Jazdon made a furious sound of disgust. Clenching his fists, Jazdon stormed out of the room.

The king sat silently frowning at Finn after he left and some of Jaz’s most loyal lieutenants, including Vargla, rushed out after Jazdon, shooting dark, disapproving looks at Finn. Soon after that, King Reykur drew his cloak around himself and left the room. He didn’t quite storm out, like Jaz had done, but Finn thought it was a close thing.

Left alone, except for Merlon, Finn glanced over at his friend and the only other “former” human in the place and sighed. “Well, I fucked that up, I guess. Shortest engagement on record.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re off the hook that easily. He’ll be back. He just needed to blow off some steam.”

“Oh yeah? Well, maybe I don’t want him back. I think the only reason he wants to marry me is to get control of the Greengile. And then he plans on some kind of slow genocide for the Parsmitt. And he wants to use me to do it.”

“I don’t think I’d put it quite like that, Finn. He’d never have asked you to marry him if he didn’t love you for yourself.”

“Maybe. I guess so. But his love seems to come with strings attached.”

Merlon moved over to sit next to him. “I don’t think that’s true at all. And I’m willing to bet you don’t either. Not really. You both need a chance to calm down. When Jaz comes back…”

“If he comes back. And if he does, then maybe I won’t be here waiting, like some kind of lovelorn maiden. Fuck that. I’m going flying to clear my head.”

“Well, that’s a terrible idea.”

“Why?”

“Because as you well know, we’ve been trying to figure out why the Parsmitt clan is attacking you. I know you’re too smart to fly out on your own and serve yourself up to them on a silver platter.”

“Am I, though? I don’t feel smart at all, Merlon. I think I’ve got myself in a huge mess, and maybe I just need to find a way out.”