Chapter 7

Kit

"Tavias." His name dissolves on my lips. I'm used to seeing him composed and commanding and angry. I know Tavias who is a storm, powerful in his fury, with tiny lightning bolts that play over his scales. I'm used to taking my life into my own hands when I stand up to him in a challenge. But seeing him like this, with his head bowed and shoulders trembling slightly—it is a blow of a different sort.

I don't know what to do. I don't even know what I want. Tavias is right about two things though—I'm cold and wet. I probably should take my clothes off. But they are the only armor I have left. I wrap my arms around myself and move closer to the small flame. It's providing light more than warmth though, and we can't make it larger with the little space and wood that we have.

"What I said when I was angry, all that about Quinton and Sethis leaving being your fault, it was wrong," I say toward his curled shoulders. "It wasn't your fault at all. Surely you know that."

"Of course it was my fault," Tavias looks up briefly but long enough for me to realize that he means every word. "Just as what I did to you was my fault. I've enough dignity left to at least acknowledge my failures."

His failures? As if I wasn't the one who couldn't make one iota of progress all morning. I open my mouth to say as much, but Tavias beats me to it.

"I watched Quinton train you back on the Phoenix," he says, his gaze going distant, as if he is seeing all the way to the sea. "He was brutal with you. And yet… despite everything he pushed you to do, he never hurt you the way I did."

"I'd not call training with Quinton a pleasant experience," I say dryly.

"No, neither would I. That male knows how to dole out misery." Tavias snorts, but his voice turns somber quickly. "The difference is that he never—never—made you feel the need to apologize for being you."

Yes, well we didn't discover just how useless I am until now.

Tavias's head snaps up and I realize that he heard my thoughts at the same time that his hands shoot forward, cupping my cheeks. The scales along his temples flare, the purple tips shifting to red.

My eyes widen. "Did I just mindspeak that?"

"I don't give a rat's ass how you said it," Tavias snaps, his spine straight now, his shoulders opening to take up all the space in the den. There is a vibration inside him still, but it's different now, edged with fury and command. His hands are unyielding against my face, not letting me turn away from the sudden intensity of his amethyst glare. "Don't ever say that about yourself again. Ever. Do you understand?"

I try to pull away, but Tavias's hold has no give. My stomach clenches, my muscles shifting despite the cold. Fine. If he wants to have this discussion now, then he can have what he bloody wants. I meet Tavias's gaze with emotionless steel of my own. "No, not when I speak the truth. We don't have the luxury of deluding ourselves, Tavias."

The bond between us vibrates, the feel of his cold fingertips on my cheeks reminding my body that it isn't just any male here with me, it's my mate. I pull away before the sensation sweeps my mind from me, and this time Tavias lets me go. "Let's not pretend reality is anything but what it is. I'm no closer to touching magic on purpose than I was when I first woke," I say. Though I've moved back only slightly, even that little distance from Tavias's warmth makes my teeth chatter. "That fact alone makes me more than useless just now—it makes me a liability."

Tavias says nothing, his body preternaturally still as my words hang in the air between us. The small flame casts his strong jaw in light and shadow that somehow underscores the strength of the warrior beneath. The silence between us grows by the heartbeat, until it's pushing on me from all sides and I shift uncomfortably. Only then does Tavias speak.

"Listen to me very carefully, Kitterny." He enunciates each word with the kind of commanding gravity that bodes no margin for contradiction. "I speak as the general of Massa'eve's armies, a royal prince, and a dragon. Not as your mate."

A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold runs down my spine, but I find my courage and brace myself for whatever is coming next. I meant what I said about having no time for pleasantries now, and we both need the truth out in the open. Even when it hurts.

"You wanted the truth?" Tavias continues. "Here it is. You have already done more for the dragons as a whole, and for our pack in particular, than any other living creature in the immortal realms. If you never manifest another ember of magic ever again, if you never shift, if you lose even the accidental contact you have with your power, even then, you will be enough. You are already enough. More than enough."

"That—"

That is the truth, Tavias says into my mind. And I will prove it to you.

"Prove it how?" I ask.

"You will see." He puts a finger to my lips before I can retort. "First though, we will get you warm. That is non-negotiable now."

Or actually possible. The dragon prince isn't much warmer than I am, no matter what he is pretending. I sigh, my breath fogging in front of me. "By all means, please pull a nice dry cloak out of nowhere and put it on us."

Tavias lifts a brow. "Not on, wildcat. Off." Pushing my hair out of the way, Tavias unfastens my cloak and pulls it away from me. It's heavy and wet, but losing it still lets a fresh current of chill air rake over my skin. I reach for it with stiff fingers, but Tavias shakes his head. "A little patience please. And a little trust."

While I try to heat my hands with my breath, Tavias cleverly hangs my cloak off the den ceiling. The thick fabric creates a curtain blocking the den entrance, but the water dripping from it now falls onto the stones surrounding our fire.

"Careful," I warn, the fear of our small flame dying making me jumpy.

Tavias makes an amused sound with the back of his throat. "You realize I could always relight it, right?" He points out. "That, however, will not be necessary."

Before I can say anything more, Tavias puts his hand on the damn stone ring. Magic flares around the prince, illuminating the entire den before seeping determinedly into the stones he touches. At once, the rocks take on a ruddy hue, their natural mottled colors enhanced by the heat. Tavias's face is tight with concentration, and I don't interrupt as seconds tick by with nothing of note taking place.

Then a thin hiss comes from one of the red-heated stones. Another. A third. I finally trace the source of the sound to little drops of moisture going up in tiny wisps of steam.

Hiss. Hiss. Hiss.

The sounds come closer together now, the wisps of steam coalescing together. Within minutes, each drop of water falling from my cloak finds a sizzling welcome on the glowing stones.

Drop. Drop. Drop. Hiss. Hiss. Hiss.

The scent of wet minerals fills the air, hot moist heat permeating the den. My frozen fingers tingle and I lean closer to the stone ring to draw in a breath of warmth.

His face still tight in concentration, Tavias leans forward and wrings a whole deluge of water from my cloak. It sizzles viciously on the stones, miniature geysers of steam turning the air thick. Hot.

I gasp. "That's incredible."

"Next time I tell you to trust me," Tavias says as he reaches over to unbutton the back of my dress, "you should consider doing so."

I'm more than willing to let the dragon prince relieve me of the rest of my wet clothes, my body opening to bask in the wet heat of the den. The air is heavy now, the scent of wet wool from our garments mixing with the mineral tang of the stone. My scales pull away from my body, seeking out more heat to melt away the ice crystals that had gotten under them like grains of sand. I'm so enthralled with the sensations that I gasp aloud when Tavias disturbs the scales in passing, a reflexive shudder raking through my whole body.

"Sorry," Tavias says, removing his own wet clothes and setting them strategically around the den. "That was an accident."

I nod and shift around, finding a more comfortable spot atop the layer of pine we used for ground cover.

Reaching over, Tavias snags me around the waist and deposits me on his lap. "This, on the other hand, is entirely purposeful," he says into my ear, his naked body curling around mine with erotic promise.