Page 6 of The Dragon Warlord
“Yes, sir.”
Father won’t take his gaze from me, and I’ve had more than a millennium to figure out the meanings behind his various expressions. There’s another piece of information he’s pondering on whether to tell me.
“Tell him, Tristan,” Simone says.
Father wrinkles his nose at the use of his given name, but he’s beholden to his husbands. “The Warlord is married to an Elf.” That’s like being punched in the stomach. “He’s getting married a second time to another Elf.”
Wait, what? Is he polyamorous like Father? That takes the edge off the gutting. Would he make room for one more?
“He’s likely to wed perhaps a third and even a fourth timeifhe survives his current quest.”
Good. I mean, not about the dangerous conquest but that there’s room for multiple lovers in his lifestyle.
“I don’t understand,” I say, hoping he’ll expand. I want to know as much as I can about the Warlord’s personal life without it looking like that’s what I’m doing. I won’t pry, but if the information is offered up, I won’t turn it away. “Does this have something to do with why he’s an Elf?”
Tristan is Markaytian born and last I checked the records; they are not Elves.
“It does and it’s a long story, but while he’s here it won’t be important. I have other duties to occupy his time.”
Father glides over to the Warlord’s unconscious body and combs long fingers through his hair. It’s clear he misses their post-bonding time together. What did they do? It’s none of my business, but I’ll be forever curious.
I know Father is his alpha, but the Warlord and I are freshly bonded, and it irks me. I don’t like him being touched when I’m all the way over here. But he’s not been bonded to Tristan for long either and their bond is settling too. I take a breath and lock my irritation away.
This is going to be an interesting thing to traverse.
“This will likely be the last time I see him this peaceful. Most of his attention has been diverted to you and when he’s himself again, he’ll hate me for a long time.” Father’s fingers trail over Tristan’s collar, then he stands abruptly. “Have fun.”
He raises his brows before swinging around and heading toward the door. Simone rolls his eyes, but he loves Father’s antics even when they lean toward morally gray.
As soon as they’re gone, I climb off Tristan’s bed and pad over to him, crouching until I’m face level. He’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. A masculine jaw. Plump lips shaped like a bow and flush with crimson. His olive-toned flesh is pulled tight over a physique that was built for war.
And those ears. They’re taller than I expected Elves to have. I want to touch one so bad. He’s out cold, right? As gently as possible, I ghost my fingers over the one closest to me. It’s soft with a creamy-smooth texture. He stirs and I yank my hand away, holding my breath.
He sighs but doesn’t wake up.
Maybe I should try waking him? I don’t want to leave him on the floor.
“W-Warlord?” I shake him by the shoulder. “Warlord!”
He doesn’t budge. Humph. This time I shake him hard with a hand on each shoulder. I let a little of my energy leak into him—dragon magic—as I call to him.Warlord.
“Huh? Whaaa…?” His eyes snap open and I’m met with an intense sapphire gaze. As if he’s been splashed with cold water, he’s suddenly alert and he recognizes me. My heart pitter-patters. “What are you doing off the bed? Stay on the bed.”
He doesn’t wait for me to move, scooping me up. Once I’m in his arms, I’m where I want to be, and I try not to think about how he won’t remember this. I let my heart race as wildly as it wants to.
Expecting to be dumped on the bed with how abruptly I was snatched out of the air, it’s a shock when I’m placed atop the mattress as if I were an egg.
“Don’t leave again,” he scolds. “Or I’ll have to discipline you.”
My skin prickles with a wave of gooseflesh. I’d … well I wouldn’t mind; I’ll just say that. It would be an honor if he’d take the time to discipline me. “Yes, Warlord. My apologies.”
He brushes the hair off my face. His hand is as hot as a pyre.Dragon’s blood is still hot then.“Does that make you happy, Omega?”
“It makes me happy and proud.”
“Good. I shall always aim to make you happy and proud.” His smile is as opalescent as the walls of The Tower.
He wants to makemehappy and proud? Shouldn’t I be the one to do that for him? The way he’s staring at me with sun in his expression, his body giving the impression of weightlessness … I could bask in this forever.
