Chapter 21

Chapter21

Sol

The past month has been downright blissful. It’s so easy being around Briar that the mating frenzy would have passed entirely by this point if not for one single friction point that continues to rile me.

She’s holding herself back.

It’s nothing more than I expected, but she gives her body and her time so freely, I resent her withholding her heart. I know she’s worried about the future, about the past. Truthfully, I’m worried, too, albeit not for the same reasons. This woman has worked her way under my skin in a few short weeks.

She’s intelligent and has a charming tendency to blurt out whatever she’s thinking and then look mortified immediately afterward. She’s also so incredibly brave. Even after everything she’s gone through, she’s still striving toward the light. It leaves me in awe. She meets me halfway in the bedroom and then some, seeming to enjoy the possessive mating frenzy as much as I’ve begun to. She riles me up and then welcomes me with open arms.

I’ve never met another person like her. I don’t know that I ever will again.

It’s not even the possibility of no children that bothers me. No matter what I told her during that first week, I’m in no rush to breed. Dragons might not live as long as we used to in generations past, our lifespans much closer to humans and topping out at one hundred and fifty except in rare cases. It’s not an eternity, but we have time and plenty of it.

Except we don’t.

Seven years seemed rather excessive when Azazel first offered the possibility of a human bride. I fully intended to enjoy her and then, eventually, enjoy raising the inevitable children once she’d returned where she’d come from. I dive deep beneath the water, but the icy depths of the lake do nothing to calm the racing of my mind.

Now? I’m not certain I won’t rip out Azazel’s throat if he tries to take Briar from me.

As I swim upward, I catch sight of Briar moving into the water. I pick up speed. I should have warned her that I have more than enough lung capacity to stay below for quite some time. I should have realized she might worry if I went down and didn’t come back up, but sometimes with our differences, it feels like fumbling around in the dark. I don’t know what I might stumble over until I’m on my knees.

I surface some distance away in an effort not to startle her, and the small smile she gives me is just an intoxicating as the sight of her nude body framed by water as she wades deeper. She’s gained weight since arriving here, and it pleases me greatly to see that her bones no longer jut out against her skin. She’s softer, and I hope that means she’s happier as well.

The water hits her ribs, and she shivers. “It’s colder than I thought.”

“It’s barely summer. It won’t get much warmer than this, though.” I swim slowly toward her. “You changed your mind.”

“I think too much.” She reaches out, and I don’t hesitate to take her hand and drag her through the water and into my arms. It’s deep enough here to reach my shoulders, which means it would be well over her head. Briar wraps her legs around me as best she can. “Do you worry about the future with us?”

I’m not often tempted to lie, but I don’t know what she’s been mulling over. There’s a right answer to this question and I want to give it to her. But maybe the right answer is simply being honest. “Yes.”

She traces my jaw with her fingertips. “I didn’t expect it to feel this complicated, especially in such a short time.”

Again, honesty wins out. “Neither did I.”

I want to keep you.

It’s not a fair ask. My feelings might be getting softer and yet more intense at the same time, but after everything she’s gone through, I refuse to be another person in her life who tries to tie her down and shear away parts of her so she can be mine in perpetuity. She only bargained seven years. She hasn’t said anything to suggest she wants longer, and with our current positions, I can’t be the one to broach that subject.

And after a month? She’ll laugh in my face.

Except she’s Briar, so she won’t. She’ll just get quiet and withdrawn, and I’ll lose her years before she walks out of my life. It’s not a problem that will likely have an answer at all, let alone today.

Instead, I can give her some good memories.

“Swim with me.”

She immediately tightens her grip on me. “When I said I wasn’t a strong swimmer, I meant the last time I swam was like twenty years ago.” She peers through the crystal-clear water to where the ground drops out a few feet beyond us. “I think I might be afraid of deep water.”

“I won’t let you go under.” I carefully pluck her off me and bracket her waist with my hands. “And there’s nothing to be afraid of in this lake. My family has been coming here for generations, so even when there’s gaps in our visiting the space, the predators know better than to try to move in.”

“Predators,” she squeaks.

“Do you remember what I said before?”

Briar looks up at me with those big dark eyes. “That you’re the biggest predator around.”

“Yes.” It’s the truth, though the reasoning isn’t quite as simple as I’ve suggested. The reason there aren’t overly dangerous predators in the area surrounding the keep is because we kill any that come too close. Over the years, most of the packs learned to leave a large swathe of territory to us, and in turn, we leave them be. Dragons are predators in their own right, but a pack of kelpie could take down an adult, not to mention a child.

I have a feeling telling Briar that explicitly will frighten her. She might be an adult, but she’s human. She has no scales or claws or teeth to defend herself. The thought leaves me cold even as a surge of protectiveness goes through me. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

She looks at me for a long moment and then finally nods. “Okay. What do I do?”

It’s a strange experience teaching a human what dragons seem to know instinctively. Her body isn’t shaped like mine. She can’t swim the same way I do. I end up bracing a hand across her torso just below her breasts and holding her afloat as she tests out movements to see what works best. Briar is clever, and once she sets her mind to something, I’ve noticed that very little deters her from the pursuit of that outcome.

Swimming is no different.

Within an hour, she’s bobbing about, paddling and laughing in a carefree way that feels like she reached out and hooked me in the chest. She swims into my arms and climbs my body to press a kiss to my snout. “Thank you for today, Sol. I think I needed this.”

Stay with me.

Again, I don’t say it.

But, as I follow Briar back to the shore, I finally recognize the feeling that’s been taking root in my chest, tendril by tendril. Love. The realization makes me both buoyant and feels like someone strapped a weight to my chest and tossed me off a cliff. It was different with Anika. I loved them, could picture the rest of my life with them, but when my parents ended the courtship, my heartbreak only lasted a few months. Because I didn’t lose Anika. Not really. We’re still friends. They’re still in my life.

When I lose Briar, she’ll be gone without a trace. I’ll never see her again.

Briar wades out of the water, stopping long enough to ring out her bright hair. She shoots me a look over her shoulder, and her brows draw together. “What’s wrong?” she asks in my language.

She’s been doing that a lot more lately. Trying out draconian in small sentences as she gets more comfortable with our lessons. Her mouth really isn’t made for it, but she’s more than coherent, and every time I hear it on her tongue, I get a little distracted.

Figuring out how to circumvent the translation spell wasn’t as simple as I would have liked. We had to ask Ramanu—Azazel—for help. They practically gloated to have more of their blood tattooed into Briar’s skin, but the end result was worth it. Briar can turn off the translation spell for our lessons. Or whenever she wants, really.

I clear my throat. “Nothing.”

“Sol…” She hesitates. “You just lied to me.”

It’s entirely too tempting to dive back beneath the water and just swim until I run out of breath. I’m…afraid. I give myself a shake and hold her gaze. “You’re right, I did.” I exhale harshly. “But I would rather not talk about it.”

Briar searches my expression for a long moment and then finally nods. “Okay.” She moves toward where her dress is and tugs it over her head. I start to worry that I’ve upset her, but she turns to me with a soft smile. “If you change your mind, I’m here.”

“I appreciate the offer.” Does she realize how novel it is that she doesn’t press? It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her everything, to confess what I’m feeling, but I hold it back at the last moment. It’s not fair to put that on her. It doesn’t matter what I’m feeling now, and it certainly doesn’t matter how that feeling will inevitably grow as time goes on.

“Sol.”

Something’s different in Briar’s voice. I refocus on her to find her cheeks turning a charming pink. “Yes?”

“On the day that we met.” She won’t quite look me in the eye, her fingers twisting in her hair almost frenetically. “Do you remember what you said to me?”

I said a lot of things to her that day, but I’m not certain what she’s thinking of specifically. I hold perfectly still, watching her closely. “Remind me.”

“You said.” She sucks in a breath that makes her breasts bounce. Briar finally lifts her chin and holds my gaze. “You said if I ran, you’d chase me.”

Heat surges through me, but I force my legs still. “I remember now.”

Briar takes a small step back, and I can’t stop the instinct that has me tensing to pursue. She smiles a little. “Chase me, Sol.” Then she takes off into the trees.