Page 22 of The Dragon Warlord
Pure relief floods every inch of his demeanor. “Thank the Gods,” he whispers. “Thank the Goddess Drakon the most.”
I climb off him and pull him up with me. “This is going to get ridiculous if you’re passing out from pain, thinking I’m going to abandon you and I’m going feral because I think someone’s going to take you from me.”
“I don’t mind when you’re feral, Warlord,” he says.
“I do and so this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to accept this bond in the best way that I can. What’s done is done. Okay?”
He smiles wide enough that I can see his barbarous dragon teeth. “Okay, Warlord.”
“And how’s this for protocol? You’re to report to me every morning and remain as my attendant all day until I’m ready to retire at night?” It’s what he wants so I might as well make it official.
“Sounds good, Warlord.”
“Am I catching on?”
He nods.
“This is, of course, after we figure out the pain thing. I won’t have you in pain all night, River.”
“Understood, Warlord. I think all of this is going to help. The bond will settle.”
I sure fucking hope so because we’re about to break.
“Good. Now I think we should get something to eat before my stomach eats itself.”
* * *
Dinner arrives with a healthy amount of dread. The dragon lord is of a mind to demonstrate that he holds all the keys to power—especially over me—and because of my belligerent nature, I goaded him into doing more than what he’d planned on.
Awesome. Why do I do things?
I have a sword, which he gave me, but I can’t even contemplate using it at the moment because of River who I … fuck. I’ve been staring at him all Gods damn day. He’s spellbinding, sometimes for no reason other than that he exists. My fingers extend and flex with the desire to dig into his scalp. I’d bury my nose into his hair and inhale gulps of his scent. It would be a sweet balm to the exhausting ache of staying away from him.
But I don’t do any of those things. I can refrain for just a little longer.
“You will be all right, Warlord,” he says as we walk the spiraling distance down, down, down. The Tower winds up and down to the various destinations within it.
Know what’s down, down, down in lordly towers? Dungeons. “Are we headed to a dungeon, River?”
He hesitates. “No.”
“Then why did you hesitate?”
“Because this isn’t always a fun place.”
I groan and wish I hadn’t asked, but Iamthe one who asked. “Your sentence implies that it is sometimes fun.”
“Some people like discipline, Warlord,” he says with the full knowledge that I know that. I just think those people are insane, including my omega.
“What do you think would happen if I didn’t show up?”
“I don’t advise it. There isn’t anywhere to go. He would find you and punish you rather than just a little discipline.”
He says that too casually. “How often were you disciplined before I came along?”
“Not often as compared to some. The need for discipline varies from dragon to dragon. An alpha usually takes over the task for his omega, but an alpha can also send their omega elsewhere for discipline. We have a place within The Tower. Father used to approve of and schedule discipline for me.”
I freeze, spin, and grab hold of his arm, taking a moment to suck in the comfort it brings me. It’s short-lived. The idea of anyone laying a finger on him is too much for whatever the hell is going on with our bond and my blood boils. “I was clear before, yes? If you need discipline, you’ll come to me.”
