Chapter Twelve

Loralie had thought about what it might be like to see Det again over the years, but it had been more of a daydream, not something she really thought might happen. She'd dreamed of different scenarios but had never imagined the situation she was in now. She had never considered that his dragon would speak to her, much less have patience with what she had done in the past.

Oh, she knew she wasn't exactly forgiven for the crimes she had been forced to commit against dragonkind, but the fact that Grennulf had spoken to her at all meant that he was withholding judgement. Or something. She couldn't be quite sure what Gren was thinking. He'd never spoken to her before, and she didn't really know him. He'd kept to the background when she and Det had spent those glorious days together, and she'd been so blinded to everything but Det, she hadn't really noticed.

She ate her lonely dinner and thought about Det. She snuggled up between the pacas and couldn't help but think about how she'd slept last night, held in Det's arms, both of them kept warm under Gren's wing. She had never slept better in all her life, and it had, sadly, been a one-time thing.

Even if they did come back tomorrow, there would be no repeat of what they'd experienced the night before. Det and she were a thing of the past. Dead and buried past. That was the only way it could be now that she was set on this course of action. She would take down Gebel, and if she survived that, she'd trip one of the failsafes in the Citadel to seal Skir and herself in ice for all eternity. Just like her mother had.

She thought it was a shame that she was repeating history. It was a sad legacy to leave to her children, and Penny was going to have the same difficulties Loralie had faced losing her mother so young. Penny was even younger than Loralie had been and not trained really at all, except what she could sneak in here and there, but Penny was living with the fair folk, and Loralie knew they had a number of mages who were probably teaching her all the things Loralie had never had a chance to learn from her own mother.

Penny would be better off. She had her father and her brother. She had the fair folk of the enclave. While the role of Guardian was hers and hers alone, all those people supporting her would help. As would the dragons. What Grennulf had told Loralie earlier that day was reassuring in ways he probably hadn't intended. If the dragons could be counted on to help safeguard the Citadel, they would help Penny. They would be there for Loralie's daughter where Loralie, herself, had failed.

With any luck that would break the sad cycle begun with Loralie's mother. Thinking about her mother as she fell into sleep was better than thinking about Detlif and what could never be. In a few short days—a week at most—she might very well might be dead. If not, she would be joining her mother in the ice of the Citadel. Either way, she would never see her children again.

Unsurprisingly, Loralie had bad dreams all night long.

Well, maybe not bad dreams. Confusing, for certain. She kept seeing a large red presence—perhaps a dragon—creeping down the corridors of some kind of castle or keep with her. She led, and the dragon—if that's what it was—followed behind her.

They didn't talk, but at first, she thought the presence was stalking her, and she was afraid. Then, somehow, she began to see that it was following her to help her. Or, perhaps, to bear witness to what she was doing. Something like that. Loralie couldn't be sure.

She woke multiple times throughout the night, and each time she fell asleep again, there she was in a stone corridor, with a looming red presence nearby. She didn't understand it at all.

*

Detlif and Grennulf made their reports to their people. Gren talked to the Dragon Council while Det reported to the Council of Elders, of which he was a part. He'd put the Council into a bit of an uproar when he'd reported that he'd spent time with Loralie, but they calmed down after hearing the rest of what he had to say. Reluctantly, they'd agreed with his plan to give her more supplies and help with her quest to stop the rogue mage named Gebel.

They knew who he was. The mages in the enclave went out into the world from time to time and kept up with their fellow practitioners. Gebel had been servant to Salomar and had orchestrated some very evil acts of sorcery, first on Salomar's orders, then on his own behalf after Salomar was defeated by the Draconians. The mages agreed that ending the threat Gebel posed was an important mission, and when they heard that he might be seeking to use the Gate hidden within the enclave's dominion, they were even more ready to help Loralie do what she intended.

They weren't exactly rolling out the red carpet for her, but every person on the Council was partnered with a snow dragon who sat on the Dragon Council, and the dragons were giving Loralie grace to prove herself and her intentions. That was a big step, Det knew, since some of Loralie's worst acts of magic had been perpetrated against dragons. If they were willing to give her another chance, their heartmates had little choice but to follow suit.

Still, Det's grandmother pulled him aside after the meeting adjourned for a private word. Lady Adain was the leader of the Council and the matriarch of his familial house. She was the wisest person he knew, and he respected her opinion on all things… Except maybe this one matter.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing with Loralie?" she asked when they were alone. "I don't want to see you hurt again."

"To be honest, I don't know what I feel, except that there is unfinished business between us… And that I would rather not see her die before her time if I can help her find a safer way to accomplish her goals. For one thing, my children should be able to know their mother. Petr has no memory of her at all."

"Penny tells him about her when you're not around," Lady Adain supplied, sighing.

"She does?" Det was surprised by the news. Penny had mentioned a few things about Loralie when she first arrived but had stopped not long after.

"Your daughter knows her mother is a sore spot with you. All you had to do was growl the first few times Loralie was mentioned for Penny to realize she was better off not talking about her in front of you."

Det frowned. "I didn't realize." He felt bad for making his precious daughter afraid to speak about her mother. He would have to rectify that. Somehow. "Damn it. I never meant to let my own feelings deny either of them anything, much less discussion of their own mother. I know Petr misses her. He even asked Lilly if she was his mother when she first arrived."

"I know," Lady Adain said softly, looking wistful and sad.

"That broke my heart. It was then that I realized I'd allowed my own pain at the way things ended between Loralie and me to bleed over onto Petr." Det shook his head and leaned against the nearby table. "I've been a fool."

Silence filled the empty Council chamber for a long moment, then Lady Adain moved, the diamond adornments of her station twinkling in her hair. She reached out to put her hand on her grandson's, squeezing once.

"Your feelings for Loralie have never been easy. I just worry that seeing her again will cause a repeat of the pain you suffered before." She lowered her hand and moved back. "You are the child of my child. I worry for you, just as you worry for your children."

"I understand, Grandmother. Truly, I do. I just…" Det wanted to swear, but he didn't use bad language in front of his grandmother. He wasn't a total barbarian. "I'm not sure what's going on with Loralie and me, but I believe whatever it is won't last. She is determined that she will not live through the tasks she has placed before herself. I want to help change that outcome, but I'm not sure it will be possible."

"Do you want her to live only for the children? Or do you want her to live for you, Detlif?" His grandmother's voice was low, but he heard every word.

"I've been asking myself the same question," he admitted with a gusty sigh. "To be brutally honest, I don't know the answer. But whatever happens, I need to try to help her. If I don't try to change the outcome she's determined to seek, I will regret it for the rest of my life. Whether for the children's sakes or my own is yet to be determined."

But deep down in his heart, he knew the answer. He wanted a second chance with Loralie. A second chance he didn't really think he'd ever be granted, but one he wanted all the same. Burying that thought deep in his own mind, he set about reprovisioning and adding in comfort items that he thought Loralie could use or might enjoy.

The next morning, he and Gren set out before dawn. It wasn't far to the mountain cave set above the manor house, and they arrived just as the sun rose.

"Lora?" Det called out softly at the mouth of the cave so as not to startle her. "It's Det. We're back with supplies."

"Det?"

Her voice floated to him out of the darkness of the cave, and then, she appeared. She looked sleepy, as if she'd just awakened, and he wanted to gather her into his arms and crush her to his chest.

She looked happy for just a moment before she seemed to think better of her reaction. What had been forward motion that might've landed her in his arms turned into a dead stop in the entryway. A guarded expression came over her lovely face as she looked at him, as if she was hiding her thoughts and reactions.

He didn't like it, but he understood. Things were still very unsettled between them. She probably had misgivings about him. and the Mother of All knew he had plenty of them about her.

Gren shifted behind him, reminding him over the dragon's presence. Det turned back to Gren and unloaded the extra-large packs he'd brought with him from the enclave.

"I brought furs and extra blankets," he said, presenting one of the bundles, though he didn't give it to her. It was too heavy for her to carry. He'd take it inside and let her unpack everything closer to where it would be used.

"This cave was much warmer than the one I chose," she said, her tone somewhat cautious. "Thank you both for finding it and convincing me to move. I was much more comfortable last night."

"I'm glad."

There was an awkward silence for a moment until Gren shifted again. The dragon was really pushing his heartmate along this morning, and Det was grateful for it.

"I brought more food too. And I've enlisted more aid from the Scouts and Guard. They're going to report to me through Gren, and we'll relay everything they learn to you," Det added.

"That's…" She seemed at a loss for words. "That's amazing. Thank you," she replied formally. Det wasn't sure, but she seemed uncomfortable. He didn't like that he'd made her feel that way, but he didn't know how to fix it at that moment, so he forged ahead.

"Let me just get Gren unloaded," he said. "I'll bring the packs inside, and then, Gren can do surveillance while you eat breakfast."

"Uh…will you join me for breakfast?" she asked somewhat graciously.

"I ate before leaving this morning so I wouldn't deplete your supplies, but I will gladly join you for lunch later, if you're willing."

Her expression was closed, but she nodded. "That would be nice. Thank you for bringing more supplies," she added, almost as an afterthought while he got all the packs off Gren's back and stacked them at the cave's mouth.

"Why don't you go ahead and eat?" he suggested. "I'll just bring these items in, and you can tell me where to stow them."

She nodded and retreated into the cave. Det watched her go with torn emotions. It was still hard to see her. He'd had such strong negative opinions about her for so many years, he found it hard to put those aside in the face of reality. Or what he was coming to see was the reality, that she had been forced, against her will, to do the things she had done.

If he wasn't much mistaken, she was carrying a great deal of guilt around with her. Rightly so, he thought, but it still seemed unfair in some ways. It wasn't as if she had devised those terrible things she had done for her own gain. With their child in danger, Det understood now that she'd really had no choice. He'd thought about this long and hard last night and realized he likely would have done the same thing had he been in her shoes.

That was a bitter pill to swallow, but he acknowledged the truth of it. If he had been in her situation, he would have left, as she had. No way would he want to burden her with those kinds of problems. Especially during such an early phase of their relationship. They had barely begun to get to know one another. They'd had so little time together. Their union had been fast, furious, and intense. There hadn't been much connection other than the physical, at first.

He knew now, of course, that she was the love of his life, but he still didn't really know her very well. That kind of knowledge and trust grew over time. Time they'd never had.

It was no wonder then that she had run off to handle things herself when the situation got desperate. She hadn't known him well enough to know that he would stand by her and fight at her side. Or, even more insultingly, she may have thought that he would not be able to stand up to her enemies. If so, she really didn't know him very well.

But he vowed to remedy that, given half a chance. He'd realized last night that he couldn't let her face this danger alone…again. This time, he would have her back. No matter what she said, he would do his best to be there and help her defeat the enemies that sought to control her. For the sakes of their children, and for Loralie's sake as well.

If she could somehow walk away from this alive and well, his children would have a chance to know their mother as they grew, and perhaps there was a small chance that he and Loralie could come to some kind of understanding. Whether that resulted in a friendship or something more, he couldn't say. He didn't know if he could go that far yet, though his body certainly wanted to go all the way into a deeply sexual relationship with the only woman who had ever stirred this intense a reaction in him.

But it was his mind that was the sticking point. He'd hated her for so long. He couldn't put that all aside in a day or two. It would take longer to get used to the idea that she wasn't really the bad guy here. She'd only ever done what she'd had to do to keep their children as safe as possible. She acknowledged that she'd had to do bad things and owned up to it.

Whether he could forgive her for all the water under the bridge, he had yet to discover within himself. He hoped he had enough compassion to see her side of it, but he wasn't entirely certain he could trust her again. Once burned, twice shy, as the saying went, but he definitely wanted to give her a chance. He just wasn't certain how long it would take for him to trust her again. If he ever could.

Putting those troubling thoughts aside, he began bringing in the supplies. They had a long day ahead, and he was going to make her understand that he would be a part of whatever came next. She wasn't going to get rid of him easily this time.