Page 51 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

“I’m the dragon—the man—thesoulwho loves you,” he says. “And because I love you, I will tell you the truth. I will always do what I believe is best for you.”

“I don’t want you choosing what’s best for me. I never asked you to love me. You need to stop it.”

“Stop loving you?” His mouth curves in a sweet, sad smile.

“Yes. I don’t want your love. I don’t want anything to do with you.” I’m beyond tears now, firmly entrenched in an angerso deep and familiar it feels uncomfortably like home. It’s a toxic refuge I can’t disavow, because to let go of the anger would be to let go of the purpose that has driven me for years.

My life’s purpose is to save my family, and I refuse to believe that I can’t.

“I hate you.” My words seethe in the cool night air, the heat of their venom hissing between us.

Varex inhales sharply, and I relish the knowledge that I hurt him.

But he takes a measured step toward me, then another. “You can hate me, reject me, refuse my love… yet I will love you anyway, even if you never let me touch you again. Even if you don’t speak to me or look at me for the rest of your life, even if I’m deprived of the sight of you and the sound of your voice, I will love you andonlyyou, until my body perishes. When my bones lie on the hills of Ouroskelle, they will sing your name to the sun by day and whisper it to the moon at night. If you should die first, I would soon follow, because no void could ever be greater than the space left by your absence in this universe.”

I’m shaking, not only from cold but from the storm of clashing emotions inside me—the demands of blood and family warring against the confession of this beautiful man, this creature of void and shadow, of fangs and lightning.

I hate what he said about abandoning my family, and I’m still deeply conflicted about what I feel for him. But I feel like I might quake apart if I’m left on my own; I’ll freeze in the hollow dark of the night and then crack into irreparable fragments, my heart’s blood soaking into the grass. I need him, need the solidity and heat of him, the certainty and sweetness of him.

“I still hate you,” I tell him faintly. “And I’m still angry. But could we… could we pause this, pause all the thinking and the arguing, and just…”

“Fuck yes,” he breathes, and we come together, our bodies and limbs slotting perfectly into place, his bare skin against the green velvet of my dress.

What we do together on the rock and in the thick grass isn’t fucking—it isn’t urgent or exploratory. There are no unique positions, no naughty words. We kiss slowly, and he slips inside me secretly, beneath the dress. Our joining is a delicate, dripping heat, a wet, quivering glide, a slow, rich pulse of pleasure.

His body’s higher temperature keeps us both warm, even afterward, when we’re lying on the grass by the rock, closely entwined. He likes keeping his cock inside me, even when it’s not erect, and I let him, because it seems to give him comfort. He set aside his fear of insects temporarily for my sake, but he’s jumpy throughout the night, frequently twitching at the real or imagined threat of tiny crawling things.

When he grows particularly unnerved, I kiss him until he hardens inside me and forgets his fear. When I start thinking too much, sinking into the darkness of my mind, he senses it and distracts me by caressing my hip, fondling my breasts, or teasing my clit gently with his fingertips.

I have never felt like this… suspended in a state of blissful arousal for so long. I come for him three times in the night, but it feels like more, because he keeps me floating in that dreamlike place of sleepiness and pleasure.

Once, while he is sleeping uneasily, I rouse enough to mull over our conversation again.

I don’t want to believe that it’s entirely Varex’s choice to keep me here. If it wasn’t for his brother, he’d take me home—I’m sure of it. The cause of this chaos is Kyreagan and his mad plan to kidnap women as mates. If Kyreagan were removed, Varex would be more likely to do the right thing. His loyalty to his brother is holding him back.

I can’t be the one to dispose of Kyreagan. Varex would never forgive me, and besides, I don’t think I could get close enough to Kyreagan when he’s in human form. But Princess Serylla could do it. She has access, and I’ve witnessed the animosity between her and the first-born dragon prince.

With Kyreagan out of the way, the clan would fall to pieces, and it would be easier to persuade the remaining dragons to release us. None of us belong here on Ouroskelle—I’m not even sure the dragons do anymore. The best place for all of us is on the mainland.

Elekstan is likely to be in upheaval for a while following its conquest by Vohrain, so the women who don’t wish to return there could be dropped off farther down the coast, perhaps in one of the Southern Kingdoms. As for me, I’ll brave any obstacle to get back to my family. No matter what Varex says, I can’t give up on them. At the very least I need to see them again, to be sure they’re alright.

They’re my blood. They’ve been in my life far longer than Varex has. I dread bringing more sorrow on his sensitive heart with the loss of his brother, but my loyalty to my family must come first. Kyreagan will have to die.

With my decision made, I fall asleep again.

Toward dawn, Varex awakens and moves a little distance away so he won’t crush me in his dragon form. When he shifts, I’m too sleepy to comment on it. He picks me up in his claws, carries me back to his cave, and lays me down on the bed he made for me. I’m conscious enough to notice that he added an actual blanket and a pillow yesterday—probably pilfered from the supplies Ashvelon brought.

After two nights of very little sleep and a hard day’s work in between, I’m too exhausted to even thank him for those extra comforts. The last thing I’m aware of, before I drift into deepsleep, is his soft breath stirring my hair and the touch of his tongue against my forehead.

15

I leave Jessiva sound asleep in my cave and take flight into the cool air of the spring morning.

Since she and I began mating regularly, the endless void inside me has not ached so fiercely nor roared so loudly. She fills the emptiness, stills the storm. I love her beyond what words can express, and yet I’m holding back the one thing she craves—her freedom.

I should let her go… but I need her too badly. And she needs me, too. With time, she will come to realize it.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot a black shape streaking toward me, hurtling at a speed dragons rarely reach except in times of great need. I swerve my head to look.

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