32

ONE MONTH LATER

I stand in the hallway outside the ballroom, waiting for Kyreagan. Instead of a skimpy white dress and a silver cage around my hips, I'm wearing a voluminous golden gown and delicate lace gloves. Parma, who recently opened a dress shop in a nearby town, returned just for tonight, as a special favor to me, to do my makeup and style my hair into a towering mass of golden curls, studded with sparkling pins. She seems happy, and I'm glad of it.

I'm wearing my favorite necklace, reclaimed from the palace treasury where Rahzien had stowed it. By Meridian's directive, most of the jewels and fine things in the palace will be given to the people now, but I'm being allowed to keep some of my possessions. Tomorrow my bed and a few chests of personal items will be transported by dragonflight to one of two new chambers Kyreagan has carved at the back of his cave. One of the rooms contains a small nest just the right size for the hatchlings, and the other room is for me and Kyreagan, so we can have some privacy when he's in human form. Odrash has promised to come over to Ouroskelle soon and install doors on both chambers.

Kyreagan's original nest remains in the main area of the cave, since he does most of his sleeping in dragon form. Most nights, he drapes himself on the nest and I curl against his warm belly. The hatchlings nestle in with us, calmed by the great, slow breathing of their powerful father. They usually beg me to sing them to sleep, and I always oblige. Sometimes I share songs I've learned over the years, and sometimes I craft new songs during the day, just to please my darlings.

Tonight, our children are with Rothkuri and Everelle and their little ones, while Kyreagan and I celebrate the confirmation of all members of Elekstan's new democratic government. Meridian was asked to be one of the regional representatives, but he declined the role. He's more interested in adventuring with Hinarax. They set off for their journey southward tomorrow. Now that Elekstan is at peace, I'm sure the two of them will find a new cause to champion together.

For my part, I'm looking forward to sharing a bed with Kyreagan after the gala—at least for a few hours. He's been in dragon form all day, saving up his time so he can attend the event with me and visit my room afterward.

And there he is, rounding the corner and striding toward me, looking perfectly at ease in a pair of tall, shiny black boots. He's wearing a suit of deep purple tonight, with a loose, silky black tie at his throat, and a black vest. His long hair is tied back, and he wears the silver crown I gave him.

There's a sinuous grace to his walk now, a feral elegance that makes me tingle with delight. I can't stop thinking about how much I'd like to seize him by that tie, shove him into an alcove, and —

"By the Bone-Builder, you look like you plan to devour me alive," he says with a half-smile. He scoops up my hand, bows, and kisses my fingertips.

"Stop it," I whisper. "Stop making me want to fuck you."

He grins, a flash of teeth that's so very dragon my breath catches. "What about you, in this?" He gestures to the extremely low neckline of my golden gown.

"Oh, this?" I exhale, then inhale dramatically so my breasts swell above the edge of the bodice.

His gaze intensifies. "Fuck… do that again."

I breathe deeply, and he steps forward, bending to nestle his face in my cleavage. My nipples go instantly hard, and a glowing heat swells in my pussy.

We're not alone. There are a few guards stationed along this hall, a cluster of guests near the end, and hired servers coming and going. Plus the doors to the ballroom stand open, offering a glimpse of the colorful crowd beyond. Anyone who glances this way will see a tall, handsome dragon shifter with his face buried in the former princess's chest.

"Kyreagan!" I hiss, smacking his shoulder with my fan. "For god's sake, behave yourself."

His forked tongue slips out, a wet caress over the mound of one breast. Then he straightens with a deep hum of satisfaction. "I'm ready now."

I give the ballroom doors a sidelong glance. "Maybe we could be a little late… We could go somewhere first, enjoy ourselves…"

"No. I have a surprise for you, and it can't wait." He offers me his arm awkwardly. He may have mastered walking and kissing ladies' hands, but not all the formalities come easily to him. It doesn't bother me one bit. In fact, I find it endearing.

I take his arm, and we enter the ballroom together. Excited voices greet us, full of joy and admiration. We're not the only saviors of the land, but Kyreagan's role and mine have been loudly proclaimed throughout Elekstan.

Not everyone was so forgiving, of course. Many in Elekstan still rightfully resent the dragons for the slaughter they wrought during the war. That's why Kyreagan and Hinarax are the only representatives of their race in attendance tonight. But Kyreagan and I have learned that talking will not change the minds of those who hate us for past wrongs. All we can do, from this point on, is to show them how we have changed, and let them make their own decisions.

The crowd here tonight is favorable to us. They recognize the sacrifices we made, the pain we endured for love, and the work we've done since the day we defeated Rahzien. They're friends and allies, so I smile widely and greet them warmly, individually. There are no more palace servants—only employees of the new Capital House, who will be retained to help run the palace in its altered capacity as a government building and a house of refuge for those displaced by the war.

Kyreagan tows me along through the crowd, barely letting me speak two sentences to everyone who craves my attention. I'm starting to get peeved about it when he draws us both to a halt, right in front of the tiered platform where the orchestra plays.

The musicians are all present, in their usual spots, smiling at me. I recognize most of them—one or two are missing. I hope it's because they fled the city, not because they've perished in the war and robbed this kingdom of their incredible talent.

Silence falls over the crowd as Kyreagan and I stand before the orchestra, as the guests gather around us, facing the players. The conductor waits with both hands folded over her baton.

Then Kyreagan nods. She turns to the musicians, lifting her baton, and they begin to play.

It takes me a moment to recognize the rich strains of melody, the slow thump of the beat, the swelling and soaring of the strings, and the liquid notes of the flute dancing through it all.

This is my music. One of my grandest compositions, the kind that should only be played with a full orchestra. One of the pieces I never had the courage to give to the palace orchestra for performance.

It's one of the symphonies the Vohrainians cleared out of my study. I thought it was gone forever.

Each musician plays with a passion that makes me want to cry, and the effect is astounding, exquisite—a stunning blend of melody, sounds that existed only in my mind brought into brilliant existence. I clutch Kyreagan's arm as the music rolls and thunders, crescendos into a dazzling euphoria of sound, and then softens again, trickling away into delicate notes.

It's over, and the room is perfectly silent. Enchanted, or horrified?

Then applause shatters the stillness, and I look up at Kyreagan with tear-filled eyes. I can't speak.

He pulls his arm from mine, only to take my face in both his hands and kiss me in front of them all. The guests cheer louder, roaring their approval, but the noise moves to the background of my mind, and everything I see and feel is Kyreagan. His long, warm fingers on my cheeks. The soft skin of his lips pressing against mine. The flick of his wet tongue into my mouth. The heat of his breath.

He eases out of the kiss and looks into my eyes, smiling.

"How did you find the music?" I gasp. "I thought it was all gone!"

"Two of the servants found it in the palace cellar. Most of it had been burned, and some of the notebooks had been stored near a leaking pipe and suffered water damage, but they were able to salvage a dozen pieces. We didn't tell you because I wanted this to be a surprise." His smile fades as he notices the tears slipping down my cheeks. "I hope it was a pleasant one. "

"Very pleasant," I choke out, leaning against his chest while his arms fold around me. "I never thought I would have the chance to hear my music played aloud, like that. I was always too nervous to make it happen. If I'd known it would sound that beautiful, I'd have done it sooner."

"It's brilliant, Serylla." His thumb strokes my cheek.

I give him a tight hug and then pull back. "There's just a few tweaks I'd like to make to the sheet music—"

"Not now!" Meridian appears beside us, with Hinarax in tow. "Right now, it's time to dance, eat, and drink, because we fucking deserve it."

Much as I'd like to get my hands on the music and make the changes, I push the urge aside, because Meridian is right—we deserve this. I dance with him, and Hinarax, and Kyreagan, and my former bodyguard Norril, until my feet are sore and my heart is full. And then I snatch a bottle of wine from a tray, grab Kyreagan's hand, and lead him out of the ballroom, through the palace, to the suite that once was mine.

The moment the bedroom door closes, I kick off my shoes and start pulling pins out of my hair.

"I'm having you properly," I tell him. "Completely naked, in a bed, among clean sheets. Take off your goddamn clothes this instant."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he rumbles, in a voice so dragonesque that a tantalizing thrill dances through my stomach, right down to my clit.

In moments I'm in my bare skin, warm and soft and aching for him, and he comes to me in that sleek, tall body I love so much. The long, thick cock he once thought was "too small" swings heavily between his strong thighs, and I catch it in my hand, running my finger along the hot, silken length until he groans. I have a dragon helpless in my palm, prey to my lightest touch, and I love it .

Gently I pat the tip of his cock with one finger, and then I place that fingertip, wet with his arousal, on my clit. He watches me smooth his precum over that spot and tease myself with his wetness.

"I need you," is all he says, but it's a deep, hoarse, desperate plea straight from his soul. I can't help thinking of the mating heat, when he beat himself against the cave walls to keep himself from fucking me in dragon form. There's something wildly arousing about a need so raw and primal.

Taking his hand, I draw him toward the bed. I turn down the covers, exposing the smooth sheets.

"Come on." I climb onto the bed and beckon to him. "You'll like this, I promise."

He climbs into bed clumsily. He seems uncertain how to sit, and he keeps frowning at the pillows.

"I know you're used to spending your sleeping hours in dragon form," I say. "But this is how humans do it. Lie down." I push against his broad shoulders until he lies back on the bed. "God, Ky… relax. You're so tight everywhere." I smooth my palm over the hardened mounds of his abdominal muscles.

"That's because I'm about to come," he says raggedly. "You realize I haven't seen you fully naked since we went to the hot springs two weeks after our return to Ouroskelle. And the last time we fucked was four days ago, in the woods, while the little ones were off in the meadow, chasing that rabbit—"

"I remember." I blush, recalling how urgently we rutted against the tree, how fast I came for him. Just like our tryst in the portrait gallery.

Kyreagan's dark eyes are tormented, his black brows bent, his jaw hard as if he's in pain. I bite my lip to hide a smile as I slide my palm down his abdomen.

"Just the sight of me naked does this to you?" I ask softly.

"Serylla," he growls in warning .

I cup my breast with one hand, squeezing lightly, and he gives a shattered groan.

"Look at your big cock, dripping for me," I croon, tracing one finger up the side. His length bounces heavily, a compulsive jerk of need, and more precum emerges from the tiny slit of his cock head.

I lean forward and scoop up the glistening liquid with my tongue.

With a roar of reckless need, Kyreagan lunges up. Seizes me by the shoulders, flings me back onto the bed. He gropes my breasts until they're pink and peaked, while I gasp with hectic delight, and then he takes most of my right breast into his mouth. With a faint squeal I arch off the bed, blissfully stricken by the suction of his lips.

He releases my breast, and I whimper as the cool air hits its wet, swollen, sensitive surface. Kyreagan bathes my other nipple delicately with his tongue, teasing it mercilessly while his hand softly squeezes the fullness of the underside. I can't stop the shrill gasps I'm making, can't stop my hips from bucking upward, seeking him, craving friction and fullness.

He slides down my body, hands caressing my sides, his kisses searing the flat of my belly. Lower, until his lips whisper over my mound and down to my clit—almost kissing where I need him but not quite…

"Ky," I shriek breathlessly. "Ky, please!"

He growls low in his chest, scoops his arms under my thighs, gathers me close and plunges his face into my pussy.

"Ky," I gasp out. "Ky, Ky, yes… god, yes…"

Nuzzling deeper, he plays along my spasming slit with his cloven tongue. I'm going out of my mind— "Horns," I beg him. "I need your horns, Ky."

They appear in an instant, and I grip them both, anchoring myself while he savors me. I'm climbing to the brink—nearly about to crash into dizzying bliss, my eyes rolling back —

"I love you," he growls, right against my clit, and I break with a sharp scream, with a twisting, dazzling, mind-searing intensity I've never felt before, ever.

Kyreagan suckles me, soothes me, brings me down from the peak with the firm pressure of his mouth and slow swipes of his tongue.

I relinquish my grip on his horns and let my arms fall limply aside.

But he's not done with me.

"Turn over, Serylla," he commands. "Ass up."

"Would you…" I purse my lips, wondering what he'll think of my request— "Would you call me ‘captive' again? And tell me wicked things, and be rough with me—"

I've barely finished speaking when he flips me over and crushes his whole long body against my backside, pressing me into the mattress. I tremble at the heat and force of him.

His lips graze my ear, hot breath warming my cheek as he speaks, low and menacing. "Little captive. No one can save you from me."

"No one," I breathe, delighted. Maybe something is wrong with me for liking this game, but I can only play it with him because I feel so completely safe, so wholly loved.

"I'm going to breed you, little one." Kyreagan whispers harshly against my cheek. "You feel my cock, right there? I'm going to enter you, and I'm going to fuck you, and I won't pull out when I come. I'm going to come inside you. Empty everything I have into that hot little womb. Do you understand? Do you feel me sliding in?"

"Yes," I gasp, a shudder of ecstasy trembling through my body as his cock pushes into my hole.

His weight shifts. "Lift that fucking ass, captive."

"Yes, dragon." I raise my rear, and he settles in behind me, shifting forward until he bottoms out in my pussy .

He fucks me loudly, sloppily, violently, and neither of us care about the wet, lecherous sounds we make. He comes after only a few thrusts, but he keeps pumping, half-hard, squeezing every bit of cum into my body, forcing me closer to a climax. I come a second time, my body helpless to his unrelenting rhythm. The second orgasm is a wave of twinkling light, washing upward from my clit through my whole body.

I go weak on the bed, gasping softly while he settles his weight on top of me. My eyes drift closed, every muscle assuaged and relaxed by the heaviness of him, the security of his presence.

My darling. My dragon.

"I love you," I breathe into the quiet, into the slow huff of his breath as he recovers from the exertion.

He kisses the curve of my ear, then the back of my shoulder. Eases off me, but leaves one arm slung over my back, his fingers brushing along the skin of my upper arm.

"I'm happier than I've ever been," I whisper.

His voice is low, soft. "I'm happier than I thought possible, after…"

"Yes," I murmur, rolling over to face him. "After what you lost. What we both suffered."

"It still hurts," he says quietly. "But less now."

I collect his hand and kiss each finger with all the tenderness in my soul. Then I sit up, draw the sheets and blankets over us, and curl against him, holding him close, listening to the beat of his wild, beautiful heart.

"This is so fucking comfortable," he whispers at last.

I giggle. "What did I tell you? Beds are amazing."

We have sex once more before he has to leave. It's a warm summer night, so he spends it out in the garden. From my window, I can see the black, spiked bulk of his dragon form sprawled across the lawn. The gardeners won't be happy about the way he's smushing the grass, but it's only for one night .

The next day I say a proper goodbye to as many people as I can manage to see. It's goodbye for now, not forever, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to return to the Capital for a visit. There's much to do on Ouroskelle. Thankfully, the poison in the Middenwold flocks has dissipated, so there's plenty of food for the dragons. And the new minister of agriculture has put forth a proposal for some of the farmers to clear extra pastureland and supply additional food for the dragons when they need it—at a fair price determined by a third party. I'm not sure how much treasure the dragons have in their "clan hoard," but it's apparently a significant sum.

On the way back to Ouroskelle, I cast a glance to my right, past Kyreagan's huge black wing, to where two other dragons are flying with my chests of clothes. Beyond them are two more dragons, holding ropes attached to a large net with my bed inside it. The mattress, pillows, and bedding have been wrapped tightly with cords so they won't be dislodged during the flight. It's comical to watch the dragons carrying it all, and I feel a little guilty that I'll have a fancy bed while the other women on the island have makeshift bed frames and thin mattresses stuffed with grass. But Kyreagan insisted, and as one of the Princes of Ouroskelle, his word is law.

Despite the twinge of guilt, secretly I'm thrilled that I'll have a comfortable place to sleep whenever I want it. The bed is so huge that the hatchlings can sleep in it too, once they reach the six-month mark and shift for the first time. Kyreagan has already started work on digging deeper into the rocky ledge of his cave, creating an inset area, a deep balcony of sorts, with a protective wall to keep our babies from tumbling off the cliff when they're in human form.

Kyreagan has been working so hard, clawing and blasting into the rock to create the extra rooms and the balcony. The little ones know better than to get in the way while he's working, but whenever he takes a break, they're under his wings and feet immediately, vying for his attention. I love the way he noses tenderly at them with his great dragon's snout, the way he tumbles them over gently with his paw while they giggle and snort tiny bursts of smoke. Violet has already started emitting sparks when she's excited.

I'm still so new to being a mother. Sometimes I have trouble grasping the fact that the two adorable, energetic balls of wings and claws and teeth belong to me—that they came from me. They're talking a little, though it's mostly limited phrases in Dragonish, with some Eventongue words mixed in, thanks to Everelle's supervision during their incubation. But they were left alone in the silence more often than is normal for hatchlings, since the clan was ill from the poison for days. Their speech is somewhat delayed.

"They've been through so much, your people," I say to Kyreagan as we fly.

"So have yours," he replies.

"After so much pain and grief, do you really think they can heal?"

A rumble of reassurance rolls through his body into mine. "If you and I can find healing, surely they can. New life will make it easier. Do you know if Saevel and Nirada's eggs have hatched yet?"

"I spoke with her before we left yesterday… they're still waiting. They're a little nervous about the one that's glowing."

"With good reason. I've never heard of such a thing."

"At least Saevel knows that his sister survived the Supreme Sorcerer's curse," I say. "When Nyreza is fully healed, she can return to Ouroskelle."

"She would be welcomed back as a miracle among dragons," Kyreagan answers. "But I'm not sure she's in any hurry to return. I'm afraid we did not always treat her fairly. I myself overlooked her on many occasions. And we avoided bringing her on hunts because her coloring was so—unusual. It scared off the prey."

"You'll have a chance to make it up to her," I assure him. "Ah, there it is! Ouroskelle. We're almost home."