“Possibly. I don’t know that it can heal dark wyvern venom if we can’t. Dark wyvern information is sparse at best. We’d have to check the oldest records and even then—”
“Why am I not surprised?” No information on the thing that poisoned me, which was in a prophecy foretold to my husband. That’s not suspicious at all. “It’s probably time I had a visit with His Royal Dragonness. Tomorrow,” I add when he opens his mouth to say anything about it. “Today is for doing this.”
I continue to gaze out toward the clouds.
“Um, what are we doing, Warlord?”
“I need a day off and since no one’s going to give me one, I’m taking one.”
2
River
The Warlord is fascinating. Also, peculiar, but I suspect that’s what makes him fascinating. His mini-bout of amnesia worked in my favor. For two weeks, his consciousness slowly returned to his Elven one, which meant he was able to spend more time away from me as the bond settled. This is also what resulted in his awakening but with him so conflicted over having bitten me, it unsettled the bond again and we’ve spent a lot more time together.
The disturbance gets worse the more he fights it. He thinks that I’m the one who’s trapped, a mindless puppet doing the bond’s bidding, but I wanted this with all my heart and soul before he ever bit me. Sure, I’m beholden to the whims of the bond now, but I’m happy to be as long as I’m with Tristan in whatever capacity he needs.
He’s the one who’s trapped with no way out. A bond of this nature can only be broken in death, but that’s not a good option either. There’s a reason bondmates follow each other into death. Living without your bondmate is a fate worse than death.
There are some exceptions. A bond can be weak. When the Warlord first exited his quarters the day he awoke as himself, and I saw the lack of recognition, I thought that was the case. I could barely speak to him because I was crushed, shocked, and more than a little worried. The intensity of my feelings and draw to him hadn’t changed, but at least it could be an easy solution for him.
I would have to die, but he’d be able to go on with another mate.
But then like a jolt of lightning, the bond roared back to him. He doesn’t remember our time consciously, but subconsciously he does. I know it’s stronger than ever because I can feel it from him.
He would not survive my death, nor would I survive his.
I’m just going to have to do the best that I can to make this easy on him. I’m willing to wait until he comes around. I’ve already waited thirteen hundred years for him, what’s a few more decades?
Tristan has been seeking an audience with Father but has been declined each time. Yesterday, he threw another tantrum, but this time away from the other dragons.
He’s been further disturbed by the hierarchy of things at The Tower. He asked me who was responsible for retrieving food forusas if I rated as an equal to him in the royal hierarchy.
“Warlord, I am your servant. I’m supposed to get your food,” I had said. As the bond settled and he took his place as my alpha and he was fine with me serving him, but that was when he was more animal than alpha.
“Well, that’s not happening. You’re not my servant either,” he’d said, and I frowned. “Do you want to be?”
“I’ve waited my life to serve you, Warlord.”
He couldn’t bring himself to believe me.It must be the bond,he decided.
“I can’t rate as more than a prince in the royal hierarchy,” he said. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I’m no longer a prince, Warlord. I’m your omega and any other title you choose to give me.”
He’d immediately given me the title of his omega when he was “out”, and I wasn’t going to relinquish that unless he said so. Maybe he didn’t know that it was on the table for him to take away, but I also wasn’t going to offer up that information without good reason.
“Is this because of the bond again?”
I was beginning to hate the bond part of the bond. “Yes, Warlord.”
His face twisted into anger, and I thought he would begin throwing things around the room again. Instead, he snapped his fingers with an idea. “I’ll fix this. You are prince again by my decree. Prince River, they’ll call you.”
I laughed because I loved him. Ilovehim. “I appreciate that Warlord, but it’s not within your power to name me a prince. Only the dragon lord can.”
He shrugged. “No problem, I’ll speak with him about it. If he ever agrees to see his dragon Warlord again. Aren’t I supposed to be his omega? Not that I want to be, but I’m willing to use it against him if I can.”
I knew Father wouldn’t return my title because he can’t give me a title, only the Warlord can, and I chose not to say so. But the Warlord can only give me titles within his power to give. There was no chance I would be called Prince River again and I’d already accepted that as part of the bonding.