Chapter 10

Chapter10

Briar

Ipace the room, my gown swishing around my bare feet. Dragons don’t wear shoes, I’ve discovered, and even if they did, they wouldn’t fit my feet. I have no reason to be nervous and certainly no reason to feel guilty. Except no matter how many times I tell myself that, I can’t make it stick.

Earlier today, I was a bit of an ass. I could tell Sol was uncomfortable, and I pushed him despite that. Then, when he spilled those sinful words that he obviously meant to sound as a threat, I immediately went back to my room and touched myself to the fantasy of them.

By all rights, I should be terrified out of my mind, but it’s not knives slicing at the inside of my stomach. It’s…butterflies?

I spin to the mirror, mostly to give myself something to do. I chose a deep-green dress tonight. It sets off my pale skin and red hair and, without any makeup to cover them up, my freckles are on full display. I press my fingers lightly to the bridge of my nose. They were a feature I loved and then grew to hate, worn down by Ethan’s constant criticism. He thought they looked childish.

With a huff, I drop my hands. “I don’t give a fuck what he thinks. He doesn’t matter and he’s not here. I am, and I love them.” Even as I say the words, part of me wants to hunch my shoulders and look around to make sure no one heard. I force them away from my ears and lift my chin. “I love them.”

I will reclaim everything he tried to take from me. No matter how long it takes.

A soft knock on the door has my heart leaping into my throat. I hurry to open it and look up into Sol’s dark eyes. He looks splendid, wearing some soft-looking pants that I think might actually be called breeches and a vest embroidered with bright thread. The vest catches my interest, and I lean forward without thinking. “What are these?” They’re plants, but not ones I recognize. Then again, why would I? Even if they were plants in my world, I’m hardly someone who knows them on sight.

“Ah.” He holds still as I run my fingers along the raised stitches. “It was a gift from my mother. They’re some of the herbs and flowers sacred to our goddess.”

“I see. Oh, I recognize this one! Hyacinth.” I realize I’m still stroking him and drop my hand. My skin heats. “Sorry, I keep overstepping with you. I promise I’m not normally this rude.”

He catches my hand in his and brings it up to press against his vest again. “If I didn’t like it, I’d tell you. Never apologize for touching me, Briar. Never.”

A thrill goes through me, even as I tell myself I’m being foolish. I’ve known Sol less than a week. Surely I’m not taking him at face value. The contract is the only reason I lightly drag my fingers tips over the embroidery before dropping my hands. “It’s very beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He turns and, after a moment, reaches for my hand. “You look beautiful, too.”

It’s strange to walk down the hall with my hand clasped in Sol’s much larger one. Maybe it should make me worried about being infantilized, but really I just feel safe. I think my instincts must have finally tapped out for good.

He guides me in a new direction when we reach the ground floor, heading away from the entrance and the library and back toward an arching doorway that leads into the garden. Or park. Or whatever it is.

The sun has long since set, and I’m delighted to see that the lights I could view from the bedroom window are actually flowers that glow faintly in the darkness in a variety of colors. “Oh wow.”

“They’re safe to touch.”

I shoot him a grateful look and slip my hand from his so I can bend down and drag my finger over the petals of a pink one. It feels like any other flower I’ve touched, velvety and cool from the night air. I rub my fingers together, half expecting the glow to be present against my skin, but it’s not. “I’m sure your world has its dangers, but so far, I’ve only found delights.”

“It does have its dangers, yes.” He reclaims my hand, and we resume walking down the rock path. “But I intend to keep you surrounded by delights.”

I shoot a look at him, wondering if I imagined the insinuation in that last sentence. The lights play along his scales, making him look even more otherworldly than normal but in a really lovely way. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“So am I.” He squeezes my hand. “I was trying to scare you, and I shouldn’t have.”

I’m suddenly thankful for the low light to hopefully hide my blush and the heat that rolls through me at the memory of what I did after I fled his presence. “I, ah, wasn’t scared.”

His tongue flicks out in a quick movement that I instantly recognize. I’ve seen the same thing with snakes in documentaries. Sol’s hand flexes around mine. “I know.”

Can he… Can he taste my desire? Or, wait, that doesn’t make any sense. If he’s like the reptiles of my world, then he’s scenting it. That might actually be worse. My blush makes me light-headed. “Um, what?”

“I went to apologize immediately afterward.” He doesn’t look at me. “No matter what else is true, you’re safe here, Briar, and I didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t. Especially not from me.”

“Ah.”

“I heard you. Scented you.” Sol finally glances down at me. “I’ll answer your questions tonight if you’d like.”

I don’t know whether to try to melt into the ground or make excuses or maybe just expire on the spot. The path ends before I decide. There’s a cozy courtyard tiled with the same stone that the path is and even more glowing flowers around its perimeter. The trees seem to arch over the space a little, framing the full moon overhead. In the center, sits a square table with two chairs—a backless one for him and tall one with arms for me. Several candelabras give a bit more light to see by.

My chair is tall enough that I have to hop to get into it, and I think I hear a hissing laugh, but when I look, Sol’s expression is carefully blank. “Do you have a lot of human visitors here?”

“You’re the first in a very long time.” He scoots in my chair and moves around the table to take his seat. “Azazel and his people keep their contracted humans close, so if one wants to, ah, sample their charms, one must travel to him. It pleases him to have us coming begging for the pleasure.”

I don’t know how I feel about that, so I set it aside. “Is it a fetish thing? The reason you want humans?” I press my hands to the table to keep from slapping them over my mouth. He said I could ask my questions. I will not be sorry for doing it.

I just might die of embarrassment in the process.

“No.” He clears his throat. “I accepted Azazel’s invitation the first time because I was curious, but that’s not the reason I attended the auction, and it’s not the reason I married you.”

I recognize some of the food on the table from meals I’ve eaten previously and spoon a few of the dishes onto my plate. The goblet is filled with a spiced wine I find really pleasant. I take a quick sip. “Why did you marry me, Sol? I deserve to know the full truth, don’t you think? Why not marry another dragon? I’m sure it would be less of a tightrope than we’ve been walking the last couple days.” Bold. So bold. My heart races in a rhythm I can feel in my temples. It’s a question, but it feels like a challenge, and experience says challenging men is dangerous.

Either I am safe with Sol, or I am not. My actions have nothing to do with it. His do.

He sits back and picks up his goblet, which is when I realize that, like the chair, mine has been sized to me. Because his fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. He studies me. “I originally intended to do exactly that. I was courting with the intent to marry, but my parents stepped in.” He doesn’t make me ask for clarification. “They had bigger plans for me than my individual happiness, and while I resented that for a time, in the end they were right. A leader’s responsibility is to their people, not themselves.”

I don’t know how to parse out the history from those few sentences. “But why is a human so necessary?”

“I’m knowledgeable about my people’s history, but I’m hardly an expert on biology, so forgive me if my explanation leaves something to be desired.” He sips his drink, somehow making it look perfectly natural despite his non-human jaws. “There’s something about the biology or the inherent something of humans that makes you excellent conductors for magic, even if full humans don’t possess it themselves.”

A shiver works through my body, and I have to set down my drink. “So you’re going to, what, experiment on me?” I’m proud of myself. The sentence comes out calm and unruffled.

“What? Of course not.” His crest flares in obvious agitation. “I’m making a mess of this. No, let me back up and start at the beginning.”

“Please do.” I think I’m shaking, but I can’t quite be sure. Of all the explanations I expected, this seems the most outlandish. Humans are conductors? What does that even mean?

Sol shakes his head, and his crest eases a little. “Our realm is steeped in magic, and the territories are linked to their individual leaders. The strength of the leader—and their magic—directly influences the strength of the territory’s magic and the well-being of its people.”

“Okay,” I say slowly. It boggles my mind, but that’s easy enough to follow. “Where do humans come into this?” I will reserve judgment until he finishes his explanation. I will.

“At some point in the distant past, it was discovered that breeding with humans boosted that magic. It was at a time when travel between the realms was more widespread. So we intermingled with humans, and that’s partly why we all look the way we do now. But then the realms closed to each other, except for the bargainer demons, and each following generation became a little weaker, a little less magical.”

I stare. This is both better and so much worse than what I was imagining. Easy enough to connect the dots now. “You don’t need me, then. You need a child.”

To his credit, he doesn’t look away as he nods. “Our child will be the next ruler of this territory and, if they’re half human, they will invigorate my people in way I am incapable of doing. Harvests haven’t started to fail, but it’s only a matter of time before we’re unable to use magic to keep the soil fertile. No one’s starving yet… But in a generation or two? They will.”

I try to sympathize. I do. He’s obviously carrying a burden beyond anything I can imagine. So many lives held in the balance. To be thinking of the future instead of attempting to curate his own power is a testament to the kind of person he is. I can appreciate that, even if I’m already shaking my head. “You want me to have a baby with you and then walk right out of their life in seven years. Do you realize what a big ask that is, Sol? I’ve already lost everything. You’ll take this from me, too?”

He doesn’t flinch or look away. “I’m sure we can find a way around that.”

Around what? The seven-year deadline? Around the inability to cross realms without Azazel or one of his people involved? Even if I wanted to take the child back with me, if they look anything like Sol, we wouldn’t last a month before someone attacked them or some government took them for experiments. Technology has made my world too small to effectively hide in. “The cost is too high,” I whisper. I fumble for the goblet and take too large a drink. “It’s not fair. You can’t ask that of me.”

“We have seven years, Briar. You don’t have to answer tonight.”

He would say that. What is he risking? “The answer won’t change. It’s no. No babies. Absolutely not.”