Chapter Seven WITCHING MOON

Chapter Seven

WITCHING MOON

Week Two, Day Two

Year 3000

Perched on a cliff high above his keep, Ash stared toward the west.

The mountain range in which he made his home plunged steeply down toward the crashing ocean. The water that seethed there had no real name, as if its presence were inconsequential. When people spoke of the vast span between their shores and those of the Empire, only one name ever came to their lips.

The Western Wall.

Most commonly, the name referred to the string of rocky, hostile islands that filled the ocean between their respective shores. Some were larger than the Midnight Forest. Some were small enough to fit in one of the Lover's Lakes. They all rose, jagged and angry, from the dangerous waters that crashed against their shores, like the ancient stone teeth of some mythical beast.

The Kraken had told him once that the Western Wall was a range of mountains every bit as formidable as those in which Ash made his home—but only the highest peaks rose above the water. Plenty more lurked beneath the waves, eager to tear open the hulls of unwary sailors and smash their boats into kindling.

Ash could remember when the entire expanse had been a rolling meadow dotted with wildflowers.

No one fully understood the sundering of the continents. Not even him, and he'd been there, on that blasted plain where fire had turned the sand to glass and violence had turned the glass to bloody shards. The world had tried to tear itself apart beneath his feet, ripping what had been one land into two.

The violence of it would have destroyed them all. So Ash had thrust his bloodied hands into the earth and begged the world to heal itself. To thrive. To give him another chance to be the protector it had deserved.

Instead, the world had decided to protect him . The crash of continents had altered the faces of both countries, as if parts of what would become the Empire had disappeared beneath the Sheltered Lands, shoving up angry mountains that spit lava. Water had flooded in from the North and South Seas alike, burying what had been beneath its inky depths.

In the aftermath, there had been silence. And the Western Wall.

Of course, these days, those who referred to the Western Wall might be speaking of a person instead of these mountains. The stark, difficult-to-navigate chain of islands should have been a welcome home for pirates and raiders from the Empire, bent on causing mischief. But only one ship hoisted its colors proudly in these waters.

The Kraken.

The Dreamer and the boat shared the same name. And truly, they might as well have been inseparable. Only a direct order from Dianthe could pull Einar from his ship, and he never stayed on land for long. Einar was the true Western Wall, a warrior whose fierce and deadly crew patrolled the shores for invaders or mischief with a dedication that no doubt gave a healthy swath of the Empire nightmares.

And he was down there now, prowling the coast, seeking vulnerabilities even as he chased the last known word of the Phoenix.

Ash's instincts demanded he should be doing the same. Flying patrols over the Sheltered Lands, trying to spot the movements of soldiers or what the queen's people intended next—

—falling directly into their trap, Elevia's voice reminded him wryly, present even when she was not.

Ash sighed.

Elevia was likely right. She usually was. There was a reason she had served as the general of their armies. The Huntress could look at a situation from multiple sides and glean plans within plans with a patience that eluded Ash.

He preferred confrontation of the more direct sort. Face your enemy. Make them stop.

Reaching down, he ran his fingers over the ice-covered rocks beneath his perch. He let his power push into the earth and felt the immediate push back, like a puppy surging up in anticipation of attention. He smiled and closed his eyes, letting his power twine with that eager presence.

You know the people who belong to us. The people who love you. Warn us if they are in danger.

How much did the earth actually understand? He'd never been sure, but the curious touch twirled around him as pebbles clattered down the cliffside. Then the sensation faded.

Laughing at himself, Ash summoned his wings and leapt. Fire consumed his body as he fell, and the dragon burst out of it, spiraling easily down to Dragon's Keep. After doing an obligatory sweep to check his domain—and a showy backflip to entertain some of the children who played in the market square—he alighted on the top of his tower and shifted back.

A narrow set of stairs led down to his balcony, which opened into his room. He might not feel the chill of the highest mountain peaks the way someone else might, but the blissful heat of his bathing pool still beckoned. He shed his clothing haphazardly as he navigated the steps, then dove beneath the water with a satisfied rumble.

He came up directly beneath the waterfall. Water heated by the energy deep in his volcano sluiced over his head and ran down his body, washing away the stress of the day. He gathered a handful of the cleansing liquid one of the crafters made for him, inhaled the bracing scent of the Midnight Forest, and smiled as he went through his usual evening routine.

Some things always managed to settle his nerves.

Of course, stepping from beneath the waterfall to find Princess Sachielle in the heart of his domain did the exact opposite.

Sachi stood near the leather-covered bench at the foot of his bed, her head tilted back as she studied the tapestries on his walls. Her feet were bare, and she wore layers of red and orange, sheer robes belted with intricate gold braid. The vibrant colors brought out the gold in her skin, but that wasn't what stirred something primal in him.

She looked like she was already wrapped in his flames. An offering to the Lord of Fire.

"Sachielle." His voice came out a low rumble.

"I didn't knock," she said casually, but with a devilish gleam in her eye. "Since you once told me that, as I am your consort, your quarters are open to me at my convenience."

Yes, he undoubtedly had said as much. He'd made the offer to a string of consorts out of duty until the words became rote. It had been a thousand years since one had last taken the words at face value.

Of course, judging by the wickedness in the smile she couldn't quite hide, Sachi knew exactly what she was doing. "I take it Zanya spoke with you?"

"Zanya often speaks with me." Sachi licked her lips. "What is it you truly wish to know, my lord?"

Every instinct screamed at him to lunge for her. To capture her before she could escape his domain, even though escape seemed to be the very last thing on her mind as her bold gaze drifted over his naked body. Ash tightened the leash on his self-control. "Did she warn you, Princess? Every night, I have come to your bed as a well-behaved guest. But the Dragon rules as master in mine."

"I would expect no less." Sachi smiled. "But if you think Zanya's whispered words to me were of warning , my lord, then you are mistaken."

"Is that so?"

She took a single step closer, the sheer fabric of her robes parting to reveal one bare leg as she moved. "What she delivered to me was a promise."

No amount of self-control could choke back the heat of arousal. Of yearning . After so many centuries of consorts shrinking away from him in terror, it was intoxicating to be wanted for exactly what he was. For all of what he was. "And where is Zanya tonight?"

"With Ulric and Elevia. Training."

Ulric had mentioned the plan to take her on overnight excursions to see if her powers were stronger in darkness. This must be the first of those ... and Zanya had sent Sachi to him, primed and eager, with a promise to Sachi that amounted to a command to Ash.

Take care of her.

It was an easy enough command to follow, but caution held him rooted in place. "We can return to your rooms, and I will ravish you as relentlessly as you could ever wish. But if we stay here, it will not be a game. Be sure, Sachi."

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she drifted closer, until she was close enough to take his hand. She placed it over her racing heart, held it there, and whispered his name.

"It's never been a game for me," she confessed softly. "Even when it was supposed to be. So yes , my lord. Ash. I'm sure."

He spread his fingers wide, the water from his bath turning the light silk translucent. The pad of his thumb skimmed the tightened bud of her nipple, driving a gasp from her parted lips. Her heart thundered beneath his palm. Her eyes begged for this—for the moment they should have had the night of their binding, if the fear of her curse and her mission hadn't twisted her into knots he could feel through their bond.

A bond they no longer shared. It had snapped at the moment of her death, leaving a void inside him that had once been full of the vivid presence of Sachi. Her return to life had not brought that magical awareness back ... but Ash knew exactly what to do.

Ignoring his nudity and the trail of water he left in his wake, Ash swept Sachi up in his arms. She barely had enough time for a startled laugh before he'd ascended the steps to the dais where his bed sat. He set her on her feet and turned to the recessed stone shelves along the wall.

The bottle he wanted was no bigger than a plum, its contents the same dark purple with pink swirls that caught the light. He held it up so Sachi could see the label—Empath's Kiss. "Aleksi and Inga designed it," he told her. "Five drops on your tongue, and you'll be linked to anyone else who takes it. It will be like we're bound again."

"It will reassure you?" she asked, her gaze locked on the small vial.

"Yes. I will feel what you feel, and I will be able to keep you safe."

Sachi reached for the vial. "Am I to assume the converse is also true? That I will feel what you feel?"

"Yes." He took her hand. "It might be overwhelming at first, so be sure you want this connection."

In response, Sachi simply opened her mouth. Waiting. The sight shot fire through his veins, and he quickly tilted his head back and let the sweet elixir fall onto his tongue, which tingled in the wake of that burning heat. The tingling swelled into anticipation as he placed five wine-colored drops of the liquid on Sachielle's tongue.

He'd barely closed the glass bottle when the anticipation sharpened into aching desire and a relief so intense it weakened his knees.

No, those weren't his knees in danger of giving out. He let the bottle clatter to the stone shelf and caught Sachi as she swayed. "Princess?"

She gripped his arms, nails digging into skin, and moaned. Ash sank his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back, trying hard to keep his voice even. "Look at me, Princess."

Slowly, her lashes lifted. And her eyes, normally clear and blue, reflected the reds and glowing golds of a raging fire.

His fire, as if he'd already claimed her, inside and out. The wild possessiveness he usually kept so carefully in check snapped free of its chains, and he hauled her up his body until her face was even with his. "Last chance," he growled, letting the hunger rage through him. Letting her feel it across their newly forged bond. "Now you know how deeply I crave you. Do you still wish to stay?"

Her chest vibrated against his as she echoed his growl and arched closer. "I will not leave," she rasped, "because you're mine ."

The vow utterly shattered him. With a growl, Ash seized her mouth. His tongue swept over her lips, demanding entrance and surging forward the moment she parted them. He savored the taste of her, the feel, her eager, willing submission ...

And he gave himself over to the Dragon.