Chapter Ten

"Y ou did this on purpose!"

Faded and tattered wallpaper rustled forlornly in the wake of an agitated dragon.

"Not in the sense you mean. Baltic—"

"You went behind my back to call that bastard traitor!"

A little breeze came in through the window I'd thrown open, but even the fresh air wasn't strong enough to battle the horrible combined scent of mildew, abandoned house, and things I'd really rather not identify.

"Ysolde, my beloved one, would you like me to strike him down?" a disembodied voice asked. "He looks as if he is about to do you bodily harm, and I cannot allow that."

I stopped trying to grab Baltic as he paced back and forth in front of me, down the length of the largest bedroom that he had claimed for ours, his hands gesturing in short, jabbing movements, his eyes all but spitting fury, and instead focused my best frown on Constantine. "Of course I don't want you to strike him down, and Baltic has never lifted a hand to me. Ever! Such an idea is utterly ridiculous."

"It also has great appeal at this moment," Baltic growled as he stomped past me, smoke trailing him.

"Oh!" I stepped immediately into his path, transferring my frown to him. "You wouldn't!"

He looked downright deadly at that moment, every inch the famed dread wyvern, his black eyes lit with fury when they narrowed on me, his muscles bunched, his dragon fire about ready to burst from him. "Wouldn't I?"

I wrapped my arms around his waist, ignoring the fact that his arms were crossed over his chest. "Not unless you mean on a certain posterior portion of my person, and even then, that would be totally uncalled for. Unless, of course, you let me reciprocate."

He looked even more outraged than he had when Constantine sauntered down the front steps of our new home. "I am a wyvern! Wyverns are not spanked. You, however, are not a wyvern."

"Really? You're into that, too?" Constantine said, going from transparent to corporeal form in the blink of an eye. "Did Ysolde tell you about my spectral whip? I'm told it's not nearly as effective on non-spirit beings, but still packs a titillating sting if used properly."

"We are not into that, no," I said quickly when Baltic's fire rose even higher. "I was just making a little joke to lighten the mood, which Baltic well knows. He just likes to pretend he's more indignant than he is."

"You called him," Baltic accused me.

"Are we back to that again?" I tightened my arms around him, crossed arms and all. "Yes, I did call Constantine. No, I didn't inform you that I was telling him we were going to Latvia instead of back to England. And no, I do not desire him. I love you. I always have, I always will, and someday, you're going to realize that and be on your knees in gratitude that I love you so much, I'm willing to put up with your insecurity where Constantine is concerned."

Baltic growled, although he loosened his arms enough to let me hug him properly. "Why did you feel it necessary to inform him of your location?"

"She wants me to do a little job for her," Constantine said, fading back to nothingness. "Two jobs, actually. Neither of which you can do."

"Oh, for the love of the saints, Constantine! I said no baiting Baltic! And I mean it. If you can't behave, you can take a time-out in one of the outbuildings and think about what it means to have some manners. Baltic, my love, my only love, stop smoking."

He looked at me as if I were deranged.

I smiled and touched one nostril. "Your dragon fire is riding so high that little wisps of smoke keep sneaking out. It's true that I asked Constantine to do a job for me, but I didn't expect he would come here immediately." I paused for a moment, thinking about that. I looked over to where I'd last seen the shade. "How did you get here before us? I called you from the portal office when we first arrived."

"I was already in Riga. I knew that Baltic would try to rebuild Dauva, and I decided when you disappeared from England that he had brought you here. It's amazing what a little snooping in real estate offices will uncover."

"What jobs?" Baltic asked, unbending even further to wrap his arms around me, his hands on my behind. "What is it you believe he can do that I cannot?"

Constantine snickered.

"I'm serious about the time-out," I told him before turning back to Baltic, picking my words carefully. "I want my dragon shard from Kostya."

"The Avignon Phylactery?" He looked puzzled for a moment, then shrugged. "Thala has much to answer for in giving it to him solely in order to distract me. It is right you should want it back, mate, but you do not need to employ traitorous murderers in order to get it."

"You murdered more dragons than me," came the reply from across the room. "Thousands more! It's a wonder the weyr didn't charge you for them centuries ago, like they have now."

"Baltic has been cleared of those ridiculous charges that he killed the blue dragons," I started to say, but I was interrupted before I could hone my outrage to a needle-sharp point.

"I will have Pavel get the phylactery for you."

"Pavel who you said yourself was not a very good thief?" I kissed Baltic's chin, ignoring the gagging noises from Constantine's side of the room. "There are few beings more suited to the liberating of stolen items than a shade, my darling. And look at it this way—it will give Constantine something to do, and it will vex Kostya in the bargain."

Baltic's expression went from outraged to thoughtful. "That does have a certain attraction. Very well, I give my approval to him reclaiming our shard. What is the second job?"

I took a deep breath. This was going to require a more delicate touch. "Dr. Kostich refused to help us with Thala."

"Then we will use the other archimage of whom you spoke."

I shook my head, grateful Constantine was keeping quiet for a change. "I don't know her well enough to really gauge whether or not I can convince her to assist us. We're not in the weyr, Baltic, and thus not officially recognized by the Otherworld. She has no reason to help us."

"The same applies to the deranged archimage; yet you thought he would do so."

"That's because I've known him for such a long time, and worked for him, and helped Violet with Maura, although admittedly that didn't turn out very well."

"I liked the part where her men shot Baltic."

"Hush, Constantine." I gave Baltic a meaningful look. "There is another option, and that's to use someone against whom a necromancer's powers are ineffectual."

By the time I finished the sentence, Baltic understood where I was heading. He rolled his eyes in a dramatic gesture. "You can't think to use Constantine to subdue Thala! He's a shade!"

"A very good shade! You wish you could be such a shade!"

"Time-out is incoming if you don't be quiet," I told the part of the room where Constantine was lurking. "And I mean it!"

An injured sniff was the answer.

"He would not be a shade if you hadn't had him raised as such," Baltic accused me.

"Which I wouldn't have done if your father had just bothered to tell me outright what he wanted me to do, as I told him the other day in the sex shop, but he just looked at me the way he does and ignored that whole issue. He's so frustrating at times."

Baltic froze. "You summoned the First Dragon to a sex shop?"

I damned myself for that verbal slip. I hadn't intended on telling him about the little chat I had had with his father. "I didn't summon him at all. He just kind of appeared. It must have slipped my mind to mention his little chat with me, what with Brom's being kidnapped."

"Hmm." Baltic didn't look convinced, but he let that point go to pounce on what I least wanted his attention focused on. "For what purpose did he seek you out?"

"I was there, too. Ysolde admired my spectral whip. I believe she desires one."

"Constantine—" I said warningly.

"You have lost that little zest that I so admired in you in the past," he said in an aggrieved tone, but fell silent again.

"I don't want a whip," I told Baltic, just in case he believed Constantine. "Not the spectral kind, anyway. I saw a very interesting soft leather device in the fetish area…. Never mind."

The expression in Baltic's onyx eyes was only too readable. I cleared my throat and continued on a different tack. "The First Dragon wanted what he always wants with me—to tell me I've failed yet again, and to get on with redeeming your honor, or else. It was all too annoying, and I told him that, so you can stop looking martyred about the whole thing."

"If I look martyred, it is because I will hear about your conduct at a later time," he said with a sigh. "I've told you before not to heed what the First Dragon says. You have yet to take this advice, but I assure you it will make both our lives easier."

I took his hands in mine and rubbed his knuckles on my cheek. "He says he loved your mother, you know."

Baltic's fingers tightened in mine. "We are not here to discuss the past, mate. My objection to Constantine stands."

I allowed him to change the subject, since I knew he would feel uncomfortable talking about his parents in front of an audience. "Shades are powerful against necromancers, my love. Constantine is willing to help us with Thala, as well as the shard. Would you prefer that I prostrate myself before Dr. Kostich, or be forced to make some sort of an agreement that will make me vulnerable to him, and place us in obligation to him?"

His teeth ground for a few seconds while he thought that over. "I prefer to handle this myself."

"I know you do, but Thala is just too powerful when she has all her minions around her, so you need to just let go of some of your animosity toward Constantine, and accept his help."

"I do not like your having dealings with the dead one."

"I'm dead because I sacrificed myself for Ysolde!" Constantine chimed in.

"You're dead because giving your life for hers was the only way you could pay for killing Alexei!" Baltic snarled in return.

A silence so thick you could cut it with lemon pudding filled the room.

"You…Did I hear that right? You killed Alexei?" I stared at the now slightly visible Constantine with stunned disbelief. "Your own wyvern?"

"I did not," Constantine said, but he couldn't look me in the eye. "Your mate, as always, attempts to divert the truth by casting guilt on others. Ask him what happened to Alexei, if you like, but do not expect to hear what really took place. I have better things to do with my time than to stay here and be abused by him. I bid you farewell, my lovely one, for the moment. I will return as soon as I can."

He faded away to nothing, and the sense of his being near disappeared, as well.

I turned slowly to face Baltic.

"No," he said, marching past me. "Not now. I am too busy. Another time."

"The questions are stacking up; you know that, don't you?" I called after his retreating form. "I can stifle only so many of them before my head explodes! And if that happens, you're going to have to clean up the mess. Baltic? Baltic! Drat that dragon! One of these days, he's going to drive me really insane, and then he'll be sorry."

"The sleeping arrangements leave a whole world to be desired," Maura said approximately seven hours later when one-handedly she helped me shove a small bed close to a window seat.

"I'm not thrilled about them, either, Your Royal Pain-in-the-assness," Savian replied, irritation overriding the dulled glint of pain obvious in his eyes. "And I'd better not catch you ogling my manly form during the night. I'm a very light sleeper, and I'll know if you try to have your womanly way with me."

Maura turned to face him. "Have my womanly way with you? Seriously? Because right now, the only thing I want to do to your manly form is bang it on the head with a very heavy blunt object. And then maybe find a hacksaw."

"I told you the handcuffs can't be sawed apart," he retorted.

I fluffed up the pillow on the window seat and made sure the blankets, which Pavel had brought from one of three trips into Riga, were adequate to keep the sleeper from getting a chill.

"I wasn't intending on sawing off the handcuffs ," she answered with an arch look.

His eyes widened, but the fact that he didn't retort told much about his physical state. Although a Slavic healer had made the rounds of all the occupants of our house, spending the most time with Holland and Savian, she wasn't a dragon, and her healing abilities were not as profound as I would have liked. Holland was recovering quite nicely, but Savian was mortal, and thus couldn't regenerate like the rest of us.

Despite her veiled threat, Maura helped me get Savian into bed, although he did balk a bit when I tried to undress him.

"I'd accuse you of wanting to change my nuts to toads again, but I suppose after today, I can trust you with them," he said, slapping away my hand when I tried to unzip his pants. "However, I can't say the same for her ladyship."

Maura blinked for a second. "You tried to change his testicles to toads?" she finally asked me.

"No, I just threatened to change them to—never mind; it doesn't matter. That was months ago, and I've long since changed my mind about Savian."

"Thank you," he said wryly.

"You can't sleep in those pants," I told him, gesturing at his legs. "They're caked in dried blood. Pavel bought some jeans and underwear while he was in town getting the bedding, so at the very least, let me get a clean pair of shorts on you."

"I have dressed myself since I was very young, and I do not need any assistance now," he replied with great dignity.

"You don't have anything I haven't seen before, and you know full well that I'm madly in love with Baltic and have no lustful thoughts whatsoever regarding you, in case you were worried, which I suspect you are, because I know what men who look like you think, and that's that every woman on the planet wants you. Well, we don't."

"I'm well aware you are harboring no desires for me, but that confidence doesn't extend to her." He pointed to Maura. "I'm not getting naked in front of her. It was traumatic enough having her hanging out the door of the loo while I used it, but I'm not letting her get another eyeful."

"Oh, for the love of the Virgin and all the little saints—Maura, turn around, please."

"And close your eyes!" Savian demanded when, with a muttered oath, she spun around, her arm stuck out awkwardly behind her. It didn't take me long to get Savian out of his filthy pants, and into fresh clothing. The wounds across his torso and legs were somewhat better, but I knew they must hurt like the dickens.

"No shirt until your key comes, unfortunately," I told him as I tucked the blankets around him. "Unless we tie one on you."

Murmuring something that didn't make much sense, he immediately fell asleep. I looked up to where Maura stood, leaning slightly to one side in order to accommodate him.

"Let me know if he gets worse during the night," I told her. "I'll leave your door cracked open a little bit so someone will hear you if you yell."

She looked down on him, her expression unreadable.

"Aggravating man," she said at last, and with my help, got out of her shirt (leaving her tank top since we didn't want to cut that off), and slipping into a pair of lounging pajamas.

"He can be, but he's also very brave, and quite nice once you get to know him." I paused, my matchmaking instincts suddenly coming to the fore. "May—that's the silver wyvern's mate—she and Gabriel think the world of him. He helped them quite a bit, you know. Some of it was locating Baltic, but really, that served to help me, too, so I don't hold that against him. Just let me know if he starts getting feverish, all right?"

"I will." She got into the bed, turning on a small lamp I'd placed next to her for reading. "Oh, and Ysolde, I feel obligated to say once more how sorry I am about what happened in Ziema a few months ago….I really had no idea that Thala had plans to try to destroy you. I just thought she wanted to hold you for ransom."

"That, I think, is a subject we'll leave for another day." I bade her good night and headed for the room Brom had claimed for his own. He was happily ensconced in bed, making notes in a blank journal Pavel had bought for him in town. I double-checked that his window was locked, glanced in on Holland, and bumped into Pavel on his way downstairs.

"You're taking the first watch?" I asked him.

"Yes. Nico wished to take one, as well, but Baltic told him to recover from his wounds, first."

"That's a long shift for each of you. I could help by taking one of the watches."

He laughed. "Do you really think your mate would allow that?"

"No, I suppose not." I smiled wryly. "He'd just sit up with me to make sure nothing happened."

"Exactly." Pavel made a little gesture of annoyance. "The watch itself is probably not necessary, since the oracle or Thala could not find us this quickly, but Baltic does not wish to take chances that Brom may be taken again."

I shivered at that thought and promised to send Baltic down in a few hours to relieve him. "I hope you won't be bored sitting here all by yourself."

He sat with his back to the wall at the end of the hallway, his feet propped up on the banister as he toasted me with a glass of dragon's blood. "I will entertain myself with thoughts of those toys you said you bought me."

I laughed and wished him a good night before returning to my own room.

Right into a scene of madness.

At first I thought it was a bonfire that lit up the area, sparks of amber and gold wafting upward like fireflies into the velvety indigo of the night sky. But as I stepped forward into the pool of light cast by the fire, I realized what it really was.

A funeral pyre.

"Oh, my love," I said, tears pricking behind my eyes as I found Baltic in the crowd of silent dragons paying homage to the dead. "This is for your mother, isn't it?"

He didn't answer me, of course—the Baltic who stood with such a stoic expression was the past Baltic, but I knew by the way his jaw was tensed that he was beset by grief. I moved next to him, watching the firelight play over the hard planes of his face, gilding the soft linen of his tunic scarlet and gold. I wanted to touch him, to hold him against the pain that I knew he was experiencing, but I was as insubstantial to him as the sparks that flew upward into the heavens.

"It is done," a deep, somber voice said from behind me.

Baltic didn't respond, his gaze locked on the fire.

The dragons around us filed past the pyre, each stopping next to a page who held a small wooden casket. As each person passed the fire, he or she reached first into the box, then cast something into the fire before joining a solemn procession that snaked up the hill to the keep.

"What is it you're throwing on the fire?" I asked no one, moving closer to the page so I could see. Inside the box appeared to be sand…until the page shifted, and the firelight caught the contents, making it glitter with a warmth I felt down to the tips of my toes.

"Gold dust," I said, wanting to run my fingers through it. "You put gold dust on the fire? Why?"

One by one the dragons paid their respects to Baltic's mother, until only three men were left.

Baltic continued to stare at the fire, his eyes filled with pain, but his expression an unemotional mask. Constantine stood next to him.

"It is as Alexei says, Baltic—it is done. You did everything you could for her. Now you must let her go."

"I did not save her," Baltic said in a monotone. "I let them kill her."

"You couldn't have known that Chuan Ren would strike her down in order to hurt you." He gestured toward the third man. "Alexei didn't know they would go that far. I didn't dream they would do such a heinous thing. No one could know."

"Baltic knew," a man's voice said as a fourth person emerged from the shadows.

"I might have known you'd show up," I said, narrowing my eyes at the human form of the First Dragon. He turned to look at me, giving me a massive case of the heebie-jeebies until I realized he was staring beyond me, at the fire.

Alexei made a low bow to the First Dragon. "You honor my Maerwyn's memory with your presence, dragonsire."

Constantine looked more than a little awestruck, bowing and stammering some inanity or other before glancing nervously at Baltic, but the latter continued to stare at the fire, too bound in his grief to acknowledge even the appearance of his father.

The First Dragon stood before the fire, staring deep into its depths. I wondered if I had mistaken what he had said in the sex shop. What did he feel at seeing the body of the woman he had taken as a mate? Was he sad at her loss? Did he miss her? They had a child together—surely he must feel something at her passing.

And yet his face was as unreadable as Baltic's.

"Your Maerwyn should be alive," the First Dragon finally said, switching his gaze to Baltic. Even in human form, as he was now, the First Dragon had an "other" sort of aura to him, some intangible quality about him that warned he wasn't what he appeared. His expression, though, was usually neutral, sometimes benign. But now? I shivered, rubbing the goose bumps on my arms. His face was as austere and frigid as the cold winter air. "And she would be, had it not been for you."

Baltic at last turned his head, bowing it to acknowledge his father, but silent as a tomb.

"Will you honor my request?" the First Dragon asked of him.

"No."

The word was curt, but filled with conviction.

"You are aware of the price of such defiance?"

Baltic nodded.

Constantine moved closer to him, saying under his breath, "God's thumbs, Baltic, do not be so foolish. Take Chuan Ren as mate, and be done with this."

"Whoa now," I said, blinking in surprise a few times. "Chuan Ren is who everyone wanted you to hook up with? Nasty, backstabbing Chuan Ren?"

"I will take no dragon as a mate," Baltic answered, surprising me yet again. He gestured at Alexei. "You heard the soothsayer yourself."

"Soothsayer?" The First Dragon shifted to look at Alexei. "Explain."

Alexei's shoulders slumped. He looked weary beyond words, his grief, at least, etched into every line on his face. "Before she was killed, Maerwyn brought a soothsayer to the keep. She said it was to stop a terrible tragedy." His eyes closed for a moment as a spasm of pain flashed over his face. "It is ironic, is it not, that her prediction has caused a tragedy beyond words?"

The First Dragon said nothing, clearly waiting to be told what prediction had been made. Alexei passed a hand over his face, turning away, his shoulders jerking as he gave in to his emotions. Tears spilled down my cheeks in sympathy for a man who so obviously loved his daughter.

"The soothsayer told Baltic he would die if he took a dragon for his mate." Constantine licked his lips, his gaze skittering between Baltic and the First Dragon as he spoke. "She told him that he would find love only in the arms of a human, and that all others would bring death and destruction to him and the black dragons."

I clutched the chain that hung around my neck, holding the love token for comfort, my heart sick at Constantine's words. Baltic never should have come back for me—I was a dragon when he found me, even if I had thought I was human. It was my fault the silver dragons destroyed his sept. It was my fault all those dragons died in the Endless War. If only Baltic had found this woman he had been meant to be with, none of the tragedies of the past centuries would have happened.

I wanted to simultaneously vomit and scream my denial of such a thing. We were meant for each other. There could be no other woman who loved him as much as I did.

"And this is your final choice?" The First Dragon simply looked at Baltic, who met his gaze without wavering.

"Yes."

"So be it. Alexei?"

Alexei turned around. "I do not wish to strip my grandson of everything he has, dragonsire. There must be something else—"

"There is nothing."

Alexei's face worked for a moment, but at a sharp gesture from the First Dragon, he faced Baltic, and said in a voice filled with more sadness than I thought possible, "Baltic, son of Maerwyn, I hereby cast you from the sept of the black dragons, naming you ouroboros before our eyes." He slid a glance toward the First Dragon before adding, "May the gods have mercy upon your soul."

Baltic jerked backward, as if he had been struck, but he said nothing to Alexei. He bowed, instead, a short, choppy bow that must have cost him much, turning on his heel and striding away. He paused as he passed the First Dragon, however. "This changes nothing," he said.

The First Dragon's gaze slid away from him and returned to the fire. "It changes everything."

The fire swirled around me, making me suddenly dizzy, which caused me to stumble forward, my hands outstretched as blindly I attempted to catch my balance.

I stubbed my toe on something hard, swearing under my breath as my vision cleared to show me a bed occupied by a sleeping body.

"Chuan Ren?" I said, grabbing the pillow and hitting the body smartly across its torso. "You didn't tell me it was Chuan Ren!"

Baltic rolled over, glaring at me sleepily from under tousled hair. "You wish to engage in lovemaking now? You have never wished to do so in the past when it is your woman's time. Is this some new fantasy?"

"Chuan … Ren …" I said with great deliberation, climbing onto the bed next to him, an abstracted part of my mind glad that I'd sent Pavel into town for fresh supplies, including bed linens. The room still smelled moldy and musty, and I shuddered to remember what state the bedding was in when we stripped it from all the rooms.

"She's dead," he said, just as if that mattered.

"She wasn't six or seven hundred years ago." I knelt next to him, hugging the pillow to my chest. "She wasn't when everyone wanted you to take her as your mate."

He rolled back onto his other side, grunting as he did so. "You've had another of those irritating visions."

"Yes, I did." I prodded his back with the edge of the pillow. "Why didn't you tell me it was Chuan Ren that everyone was pressuring you to claim as a mate?"

He sighed and let me pull him over onto his back. "It doesn't matter. I had no intention of taking her as anything, let alone a mate."

I slumped down next to him, leaning against the headboard and stared down at my feet, remembering my sadness. "All those dragons, Baltic."

"All what dragons? Why are you dressed and outside of the blankets? Is your woman's time bothering you? Do you wish for me to fetch pain tablets?"

I twined my fingers through his, drawing strength and comfort from his touch. "All those dragons who died because you met me instead of the woman you were supposed to spend your life with."

"A woman? What woman?" He sighed again. "You will remove your clothing and climb into bed so that I may comfort you. I would prefer to make love to you, but I know how you are at this time, so I will simply hold you as you said you enjoy."

I slid from the bed, slowly unbuttoning my shirt, not with the intention of teasing him, but with a sense of regret so strong, it made me want to weep. "The woman you were supposed to mate with. The human woman that some soothsayer told you would bring you untold happiness, or something like that. And instead, you met me, and we fell in love, and I brought death and destruction to the sept and the weyr. Oh, Baltic, what have we done?"

I wanted to curl up into a little ball, so heavy was the guilt that weighed me down.

Baltic marched around the bed, his hands on my shoulders as he gently shook me. "You insist on having these visions, and now you see what comes of it. I demand that they stop, Ysolde. They distress you, and I do not like to see you unhappy."

"I can't help it," I said, sobbing now. "If only you hadn't met me. If only you hadn't come to my father's castle—"

" You are the woman I was supposed to meet. Chérie , do not weep for such a foolish reason." He tipped my head back, brushing off my tears with his thumb. "And do not look at me with such accusation in your eyes. I have never lied to you, and I do not do so now."

"But…" I swallowed back the ache in my throat. "But in the vision, Constantine said the soothsayer foretold that your mate was a human."

"You are human. You retain a dragon consciousness, but until that has fully claimed you, you appear human."

I thought about that for a moment, letting him kiss along my jaw, my fingers digging into the warm, satin-covered muscles of his arms. Despite having attained dragon form in Spain, the dragon being within me was still, I knew now, slumbering. It had woken once, and I had hope I could bring it to full awareness again, but for now…well, he was right. I was human.

But I hadn't always been so.

"I wasn't human when we met."

"You thought you were. You had been raised as one. To everyone but the mortals who gave you sanctuary, you were human." He pulled back enough to look down at me, his eyes glowing with mingled passion, love, and annoyance. "You heard Constantine talk about the soothsayer? That happened the night of my mother's sepulture."

"Sepulture? You mean her funeral?"

"Dragons do not have funerals. We burn our dead in a ceremony called sepulture." His eyes narrowed. "Is that the vision you had?"

"Yes." I slanted him a look. "We have a lot to talk about. I've got oodles of questions."

He sighed a third time, quickly divesting me of my clothing before picking me up in his arms and carrying me to bed. "You always have questions."

I giggled at the martyred tone in his voice. "At least you can't say your old Ysolde never asked you questions, because I know full well I did. Why did the First Dragon force your grandfather to kick you out of the sept just because you didn't want to hook up with Chuan Ren? Why did he say your mother's death could have been avoided, and that you were responsible for it? And why—"

"Enough!"

"I want answers!"

"And I do not wish to give you anything but extreme pleasure." He paused, his mouth a hairbreadth from my breast as he glanced down my torso. "Is your woman's time over?"

"Oh, for the love of the saints. You are the most irritating, annoying, arrogant man I've ever met."

"Yes, I am," he said, not batting so much as one single eyelash. "Is it over, or must I wait to make love to you?"

"Baltic, I'm tired of your never answering my questions. And I have a lot of them."

"Your woman's time is not here?" he prodded.

"By the rood, Baltic! Do we have to discuss this right now?"

"Is it here, yes or no?"

"No!"

He looked down at my breasts with a speculative glint to his eyes.

"Wait! I'll make a deal with you." I held him back as he was about to dive for my chest, my fingers taking the opportunity to gently massage the tendons in his shoulders and neck.

"What sort of a deal?"

I smiled to myself. There was nothing dragons loved more than negotiating. "For every question you answer, I will bring you untold, immense sexual gratification."

He looked thoughtful, but shook his head. "You do that regardless of whether I answer your unimportant questions. I will make love to you now."

"How about this—" I said, squirming to the side as he started to rub his cheek against one breast. "For every question you answer, I'll let you bring me untold, immense sexual gratification."

"You receive that pleasure regardless, as well."

"Yes, but this time," I said, sweeping my hand up his chest and purring at him, my leg sliding along his. "This time I'll let you be in control all the time. You're always telling me you don't like me being dominant—although heaven knows you don't seem to mind it once you stop complaining and let me get on with things—but this time, it's all you. One question earns you one minute of mindless lovemaking with you in the driver's seat. Do we have a deal?"

He smiled, one of those "I am the man, and you are the merest puddle of goo in my seductive hands" sorts of smiles. Unfortunately, I knew I would be a puddle of goo in his hands, and I quickly sorted through all the questions I had, deciding which ones to ask while I could still speak with any sort of coherence.

"I agree to your bargain. But tell me, chérie , just how many questions do you believe you will be able to ask me?"

"Oh, I imagine about ten or tweeee!" The last word ended on a gasp of surprise and pleasure as Baltic suddenly dipped a finger into very sensitive flesh, using his thumb to torment me into instant insensibility.

His fingers stilled. I glared at him. "That was not at all fair. You have to answer a question first, then you can…er…do that again. As many times as you like. And maybe just a smidgen to the right."

"What is your question?" he asked, bathing me in a light wave of fire.

"No fire!" I said quickly, slapping out the flames on the blankets around me. "We haven't dragon-proofed the bedding yet. At least, you can, but confine it just to me, and not anything else."

"Your question?"

"Why did the First Dragon say you were responsible for your mother's death?"

His head dipped to take one of my nipples in his mouth.

I gasped again. "Gently, my darling. Oh yes, just like…Wait, Baltic, you're supposed to answer first."

He released one extremely happy nipple to cock an eyebrow at me. "The First Dragon claimed that my refusal to take Chuan Ren as a mate made her lose face, for which she retaliated. He also claimed that she believed the only way to hurt me was to destroy the one person who loved me. He was wrong. Chuan Ren was searching for a reason to war, and knew I would not suffer the murder of my mother without appropriate action. It had nothing to do with saving face."

Even now, I felt the pain deep inside him at the loss of his mother, and I knew that despite his claims, he did feel guilty. I slid my hands into his hair and pulled him down to kiss him. "Your father is an ass."

He chuckled as he turned his attention to my other breast. "So my old Ysolde said on many occasions. I have never had the desire to argue otherwise. What is your second question?"

"Is that why the First Dragon wants me to restore honor to you? Your mother's death is the death of the innocent he was talking about?"

"I have no knowledge of what passes through the mind of the First Dragon," he said with obvious evasion that I instantly forgot when he laved my belly with his tongue, his fingers dancing in and around me in a manner that left me squirming on the bed, desperate for the feel of him. "You will have to ask him if that is what he meant."

"Typical…oh yes, right there, my darling…typical dragon answer."

He slid down my body, hooking my legs over his arms, a wicked smile on his lips as he looked over my pubic bone. "You have time for one more question, mate. I would advise you to make it a quick one."

I clutched the sheets with both hands, trying desperately to remember what I was going to ask. "About your talisman…Why would Thala want to take it from your lair? I assume it's something that only you can use if your father gave it to you to mark you as one of his children, so why would she—"

Never a man with much patience, Baltic had run to the end of his. He dipped his head and filled me with fire, making me arch off the bed at the sensation of all that heat in very sensitive areas, my hands scrabbling for a hold on the sheet when he added his tongue into the proceedings.

By the time he finished tormenting me and slid upward, rocking against me with urgent movements that sent me flying, I knew my time was up. I reveled in the sensation of him moving against and inside me, holding him tight when he found his own moment of exquisite pleasure and cherishing not just the feel of him, but also the knowledge that until the end of my time, his heart was mine.

"You owe me an answer," I told him sometime later, when I could restart my brain and utter things other than moans of purest ecstasy. "I'd make you answer it now, but that performance has earned you some rest, so you have a pass until tomorrow morning. Really, Baltic, I swear you're getting better at this. I didn't think it was possible, but you are."

He grumbled as he pulled me against him, one leg draped protectively over mine, his breathing soft against my head as he fell asleep.

There were so many things to worry about, so many concerns that nagged me. I examined them all as I lay in his arms. Prioritizing them, I decided which ones demanded my attention, and which could wait.

"At least we're all together again," I said softly, snuggling into Baltic's chest. "Brom is safe. Holland and Savian are recovering, and Constantine is going to help make everything right again. I guess there's nothing more I can hope for."

"Go to sleep," Baltic murmured against my temple, his arm tightening around me as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You are tired. You need rest."

I glanced up at him, wondering…then shook my head, and did as he said.