Page 45 of Heart of Shadows

“No,” Dimitri was hasty to placate him. “Like you, I am sick of being oppressed for that which is not my fault. I will show you, if you wish, so you will know I speak truthfully.” It was a daring move that Dimitri was not entirely sure would succeed, but he had nothing to lose, and the greatest weapon in his potential arsenal to gain.

“Show me.”

Dimitri lowered the shield to his mind, opening a tiny chink in the impregnable wall he had never yielded to anyone.

The summer sun tickled his skin through the chink in the shutters. Dimitri pressed his face against the cold metal bars, as if he could somehow sink through them, through the shutters, to outside, to where life, light, and joy reigned—for others, but never for him. A cloud scudded across the sky, cutting off the slim ray of light in an instant. Dimitri sank onto the bench, his back against the cold stone. Out there, it was warm, but here, in the bowels of the castle, the cold of the earth was almost as pervasive as the cold of the stone.

He shivered and drew his knees up to his chest, but he did not draw away from the rock. It soothed the lines of fire across his back where his father had whipped him mercilessly. An anger as hot as the pain seared through him at the thought of his brothers’ smug faces. The bastards had taunted him, as ever, with their legitimacy, and when he had bitten back with a taste of magic far stronger than theirs, it was he who had borne the punishment. As if his life were not punishment enough—confined to the shadows, as though his father’s shame was his fault.

He skipped from memory to memory, lingering as little as he could, for even now, they brought him nothing but pain and anger. His years of childhood confinement and punishment at the hands of a cruel father, step-mother, and step-brothers. His repeated snubs from the king. His dogged efforts to raise his standing, always hampered by the glass ceiling of the taint in his blood. His unanswered questions of who his mother was.

Finally, he let the last memory slip away. How he had gotten his revenge, at last, upon his brothers. They bothered him no longer. He had always felt he had not made them suffer enough. Saradon’s anger fuelled his own, but he locked it away, pushing it back into that dark part of himself that he kept under the tightest confinement at all times.

“A Heart of Dragons. Find me one so I may yet live.”

A thrill chased through Dimitri.

Saradon continued in a low growl. “Find more, and I shall break the wheel.”

Dimitri bowed low. “I will make it so, Lord.”

The magic aided him, pushing him away, as Dimitri slid into the veils of the world again. His heart hammered as he alighted in his own quarters. So normal, safe, and welcoming after the hot, raw power of the chamber. The Dragonheart was the key—and he had to take it now.

35

HARPER

That night, when they stopped in a narrow valley by a stream, sheltering under a rocky overhang, the weather closed in. Harper was glad for the added shelter as the temperature sank and the clouds piled high.

The humidity was unbearable as the first storms of autumn fought the summer into decline, and Harper made the most of the waterfall that plummeted off the overhang. Fully clothed, she walked into it, groaning with relief as the cool water engulfed her. It stripped away the dirt of the road and swept away the uncomfortable mugginess for just a few minutes. As she returned to camp dripping, she sank gratefully onto a rock, wriggling her toes as her aching feet pounded.

“Good idea.” Brand stripped to his breeches and dived under the waterfall. Harper gawked at him. Every inch of him bulged with muscle and strength. But, scars riddled his skin, some old, and some decidedly less so. She had never seen someone so battle-worn before. He was a fearsome warrior for certain.

“A wash is indeed a good idea!” Aedon said brightly, making to follow Brand. Ragnar grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.

“Not so fast, laddie. I need some wood before this storm arrives. Go on. Off you go.”

Aedon groaned. “Make Erika do it!” Nevertheless, he lowered his vest and turned away. “Harper, want to help? I can show you the camp enchantments at the same time.”

“Yes!” She scrambled to her feet, now regretting her decision to soak her clothes, because shivers wracked her body.

“Hang on. Your lips are blue.” He stood face to face with her, and held his hands out to her, running them down her sides but never touching her. As they moved, she felt his magic sweep through her, warm and tingling, and when he stepped back, she was dry. He threw her a wink and strode away. She swallowed, wrenching her gaze away from the fine sight of him retreating, and hurried to follow. They gathered pieces of wood, twigs, and suitable kindling in short order, then returned to the outskirts of camp. Aedon paused. “Dump your wood here. We’ll set the wards and return for it.”

Harper emptied her armful on top of his.

“Take my hand. You’ll feel it then.”

Harper laced her fingers through his, hating how much the simple feel of him brought her pleasure. How could it be that she was undone so easily? Was she that starved of attention? She shoved the thoughts aside and matched her stride to his, focusing on one step and then the next, as the surge of his magic stroked through her. Harper revelled in it flooding her body, radiating out from him in pulsing waves. Her senses changed, as though the outside world muffled, then sharpened, repeatedly peaking and diminishing until they had walked around the entire camp, hopped over the stream, and were back where they had started.

“What did you do?” she asked breathlessly, heady on the energy tingling throughout her as it faded.

“I made us safe. That will keep us unheard and unseen, secret until we leave tomorrow.” He faced her—but had still not dropped her hand.

She felt the heat of his body. “Will I be able to do that?” she asked, as much to distract herself as to sate her curiosity.

“Yes. When your magic is strong enough, that will be an easy one for you.” He smiled, and she noticed he did not look tired at all, despite the amount of energy that had cascaded through her. He lingered close to her, his gaze dipping to her mouth for a fleeting second before he retreated, slipping his fingers from hers after a light rub of his thumb upon her hand that was so small, she was not sure whether she had imagined it.

“Come. Tell me of your life,” he said in a light voice. “What is it like to dwell in Caledan, the land of no magic?”

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