Chapter 25

CHAPTER25

Underground. Again.

Abraxas didn’t mind so much the Ashen Deep’s home, mostly because the depths of where they lived were so deep and tall that he couldn’t even see the ceiling. It made him feel more like he was in a dragon’s cave. The kind where he could change without fear of hitting his head or causing a cave in.

But he was exhausted by all the time spent underground. He was meant to be on a clifftop, keeping watch over all those who were important. Instead, he was hiding in a hovel with all the others, who were afraid of what might happen to them if they were on the surface.

Sighing, he strode through the dark halls without a light. A few of the Ashen Deep who passed by him seemed surprised that he didn’t need a lantern. But then he flashed them a toothy grin, and a gold-eyed stare, and they knew who he was.

Dragons had no need for lights in the darkness. He could see better than they could, even though they had been born in the dark.

Lore was somewhere with the Matriarch and had been for some time now. The two of them had a lot to catch up on, and unfortunately, the Matriarch wanted no one else involved in those conversations.

The memory still sent a shiver down his spine. He didn’t like Lore being locked up with that wicked woman who cared very little for his mate. He didn’t enjoy knowing Lore was alone, making decisions for the rest of them with no form of input.

Not that he didn’t trust her. But she was... different. And that difference could lead to darker places.

“Excuse me,” he muttered as he strode through a crowd of deepmongers who had gathered near a door. He pushed through them toward the room, quite certain at what he would find.

And yes, he was correct. Zephyr and another one of the Matriarch’s sons, lost in a game of chess that would take hours to finish.

The prince of their land had shown his abilities in chess a few days ago, and everyone had tried to beat him since. Apparently, spending most of his days locked away in a crypt had made him quite good at the game. And the Ashen Deep hated how good he was at it.

Murmurings grew again, their voices rising in the otherwise dead air. Only a few more moves and the Ashen Deep prince would have the mortal one. And then Zephyr made a move that completely thwarted that plan.

Groans of disapproval and money passed between hands all around him. They were betting on the boys now?

Abraxas crossed his arms over his chest with a grin and nudged the deepmonger beside him. “I’m betting on the human.”

“What are you willing to bet?”

Flashing a red scale in his palm, he tilted his head to the side and asked the same question. “Now, what are you willing to bet?”

The unfamiliar deepmonger grinned, his teeth flashing brilliant white in the darkness before he held up a bag. “Take a guess.”

Abraxas had no idea at all, but he was willing to place a bet for the novelty of it. He enjoyed believing in Zephyr. Namely because he always won. So far, he had two new knives, a very hearty meal that he’d shared with the others, and a pretty necklace he planned to give Lore, eventually. When there was more time for the two of them to linger with each other.

With a quick nod, the two of them continued to watch the game for an hour before Zephyr gave a delighted whoop and money changed hands again. Abraxas took the bag from the deepmonger with a bright smile as he left the small area.

Let the deepmongers be angry with what had happened. They deserved a few nights of frustration wondering how the mortal had managed to beat their centuries of experience.

Grinning, he wandered through the halls back to where he’d been setting up camp. Every day he waited for her to come out of the Matriarch’s personal quarters. Every day, she looked troubled and shook her head when he asked her what was going on. She never told him. Never let him in. But at least she knew she wasn’t alone.

Sliding down the wall, he opened the bag in his hands and grinned down at the contents. Now, he definitely knew what to do with this. And considering that Lore needed a break as much as he did? It was far pastime that he give her a little gift.

Abraxas leaned his head back against the wall and waited until the door opened. Lore stepped out, quiet and calm. She gently closed it behind herself, as though she didn’t want to disturb his rest.

“Are you well?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse as he pulled himself out of the waiting stasis he’d been in.

“Well enough.” But she turned toward him with shadowed eyes. “It is simply a lot to take in. There is more at play here than I ever thought and I am... overwhelmed.”

“Anything you can tell me?”

She touched her lips and pointed to the door. And he had to wonder just how much the Matriarch was listening to. If they were not safe even in the hallway to talk as they should be able to.

He was her mate. She was supposed to tell him everything without fear or judgment. That was how it worked.

Or at least, how he’d always assumed it would work.

Abraxas stood, his back cracking and his knees aching as he stretched out his long body before her. He followed her gaze, watching as she lingered in staring at his form. And he knew she wanted him. Of course she did. It had been too long for them, and their lives had turned toward duty and honor and a kingdom to save rather than simply loving each other as they were made to do.

“Come with me,” he said, stretching a hand out toward her. “Let’s have the night to ourselves.”

“It’s not safe to go above.” Lore scratched the back of her neck rather than take his hand. “The Matriarch has told me that Margaret has her ravens, even in the forest.”

“Then we will not let them see us.” He wiggled his fingers. “Where’s your sense of adventure, elf? The woman I knew would never have turned up a moment to shake off her chains and get outside.”

“That woman is currently weighed down by the responsibility of a kingdom and a people who need her help.”

“Then perhaps I might convince you to come and see the moon.” He had her with that. He saw the desire in her eyes and the wispy expression of hope that crossed her face. “You are not meant to linger in the darkness, Silverfell. The Ashen Deep have their caves, but you have always had your moon.”

Lore sighed and rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling neither of them could see. “Ah, Abraxas. You have always known how to get me to do what you want.”

Indeed, he did.

But the feeling of her fingers slipping between his, the warm squeeze she gave him in thanks even though she was overwhelmed by her own sense of duty? That was worth any risk that he might have to suffer.

He pulled her through the dark halls, past a group of Ashen Deep who were already plotting their next person to take on Zephyr. Past the room where he stayed with Lore, while Beauty and Zephyr stayed in the other. Beyond the whispering grimdags who remembered her and knew exactly what to say to tempt her.

He brought her to the same exit they had left out of all that time ago. The same exit where they had fled the Ashen Deep for the first time, after traveling away from the castle and toward an unknown that would thrust them onto this path.

“Do you remember where we are?” he asked.

“How could I forget?” Lore shook her head ruefully. “All of you charged in here to save me, certain that I had met some horrible doom at the hands of more elves who hated me.”

“You almost did end up dead. You’re lucky Draven took a liking to you or the Matriarch would never have given you a chance to live.”

“Perhaps.” Lore shrugged. “Or maybe she would have seen the power in me, even then. She didn’t want to change the prophecy, apparently. She just didn’t want the prophecy to ever come to life. At least not while she was still breathing.”

“Has she changed her mind yet?” He started them off at a steady clip, already certain where he was bringing her in this forest of green, growing moss and glittering dewdrops.

“Not really. She doesn’t agree with my methods or my plans. But she agrees Margaret has gone too far, so I believe that is progress.” Lore stepped over a fallen log and then turned her face into a beam of moonlight.

And she looked so beautiful standing there, with all the stressors easing from her features as she let the moon bathe her fears away. Her hair had grown so long now that she could braid it, but she let it fall loose around her face more often than naught. Those features had aged since he’d first seen her in the forest. Not much, as elves rarely aged at all, but he could see the way she’d changed. Only he would ever notice the featherlight wrinkles around her eyes or the way her jaw had sharpened.

But, ah, she was beautiful. She was his and his alone, and he was the luckiest man in the kingdom for it.

“I brought you a gift,” he said, tugging her away from her beam of moonlight to a small mossy patch that he’d remembered. The canopy above it had once been breached, perhaps by a falling dragon who had been desperately searching for his mate. And so the moon illuminated the entire glade.

She gasped at the sight of it, her hands clutching at her chest. “Abraxas. You knew this was here?”

“I had guessed.” And hoped, really.

He settled her on top of the moss and watched as she soaked up all that power and her skin turned glittery with it. She looked like she was dusted in diamonds, and his heart stuttered in his chest.

“A gift?” she asked, opening those stunning eyes and staring right through him. “Where would you have gotten a gift? It’s not a grimdag, is it? The Matriarch would kill me if I stole another one of those from her.”

“No, it’s not a grimdag.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s not anything to do with war, you bloodthirsty elf.”

He dropped down beside her on the moss and handed her the bag he’d won from the deepmonger. His winnings were well worth the risk, although he had no idea where the young man had even gotten the contents.

Frowning at him, Lore peered into the bag and then flinched back. A startled laugh burst forth before she looked in again and then back at him.

“Elfweed?” she asked, her voice thin and perhaps a little too high pitched. “You got me elfweed?”

“I remember you saying how much you liked it,” he replied. His tone was almost defensive, and that was foolish. Because he knew she would enjoy it, and she wasn’t too old to do it again! They just hadn’t had the opportunity, and if she was angry at him, then that was stupid.

His thoughts stuttered to a halt as she tilted her head back and laughed. Her joy was so abundant that she even kicked her legs a bit before she stared at him again, her jaw slightly open and her eyes so wide he could see the whites around them. “Do you know how hard it is to find good elfweed? You didn’t just find this, did you?”

“Not quite.” His shoulders squared a bit with pride. “I won it after a game of Zephyr’s. I think the deepmonger was quite certain that his own prince would win the chess game.”

She leaned forward, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him so hard he tasted blood. “You brilliant, wonderful, ridiculous man. I cannot believe you found me elfweed.”

He watched her gleefully pull out a bundle of weed and a small stack of papers. With quick, efficient hands, she’d rolled them both enough to smoke and then handed him one.

“Would you like to do the honors?” she asked, clearly expecting him to provide the flame.

He’d happily do so. Abraxas leaned forward and sparked his fingers together, just enough to light the end of hers and then lit his own. Together, they inhaled deeply of smoke that tasted sweet and savory at the same time.

Blowing out a few smoke rings, he grinned when she made a sound of surprise.

“You know how to smoke!” she said, pointing at the rings that floated up in the moonlight.

“I’m a dragon, Lore. What makes you think I haven’t spent years of my life learning smoke tricks?” He raised a brow. “I can make smoke in my lungs without having to inhale it. I spent years learning tricks from my mother and cousins and dragons I cannot even remember.”

Not to mention he had the memories of other crimson dragons who had entertained their young in the same way. With a rueful grin, he puffed a few more rings, so they moved through each other.

Shaking her head, Lore added a ring of her own. And for a while, they entertained each other with the tricks they could both do. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time.

But then he realized they were completely surrounded by a cloud of smoke and that was just hilarious. He didn’t know why or how it had gotten so funny. He saw it billowing around them like a massive skirt and he couldn’t stop chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” Lore asked, her eyes narrowing on him.

“It’s like a dress,” he said, barely getting the words out as he gestured at all the smoke surrounding them.

Though she hardly reacted to his words, her lips twitched. A good sign that she saw the same image he did and soon she would also be on the floor laughing.

“Abraxas.” The word sounded a little slow. Why was she speaking to him like he wouldn’t be able to hear her? “Have you ever smoked elfweed before?”

He tried to control the sounds coming out of his mouth that sounded an awful lot like giggles. “Nope. I have not.”

Then she giggled with him, and the sound set him off all over again and he couldn’t stop it. No matter how hard he tried to stop laughing, it was just... laughter. Bubbling out of him and coughing more smoke into the air. Was he still smoking? He didn’t think he was, but then he found the elfweed back against his lips.

“You’re high,” she said with another laugh.

“I am not. You’re not even close to high and I’m twice your weight.”

She shook her head at him. “You’re very high, dragon.”

And maybe he was. But he was high with the best person he’d ever met. So he handed her the rest of his elfweed, laid back in the moss, and grinned up at her with every ounce of love in his heart.

There was no place he’d rather be than right here. With her.