Page 111 of The Dragon Warlord
“And I have never forgotten that, but this is putting you out of sorts too. You’re not making this demand from a good place.”
His anger stews just above the surface. Our boots are quiet in the soft grass as we walk, and he digests what I’ve said. “I suppose you are right. I never should have taken an omega. I don’t like it.”
He doesn’t mean that. He doesn’t like his feelings. He had grand dreams of a Warlord under his thumb, and he has that for the most part, but Tristan is Tristan. Ultimately, he’s his own master. If he allows you to hold any dominion over him, it’s a gift not to be taken lightly.
“Then you share more in common with Tristan than you realize. He’s not much for having an omega. He loves me though,” I add when he frowns. “He accepts our bond now.” Kind of, but I don’t add that part out loud.
“I’ll feel a lot better when you have a cuff around your wrist. All right, since I’m not going to get anywhere with you, you’re dismissed. Please consider what I’ve said.”
* * *
Tristan will scold me if he catches me on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor outside his chambers, but the person whose job it was didn’t do the job to my standards. Perhaps I have better eyesight, but I see scuff marks everywhere. Who could have missed so many?
I could have asked the staff to do it over. I could use some spells to assist me. I won’t do any of that. I’m driven to do this for Tristan. I work on every curve of the dragon emblem until the entire thing shines. Besides, magic would be a waste on something like this that I can do easily.
This way, Father gets his wish. I have to remove my jacket for the task. My arms are bare and on display. At the same time, it’s not too dangerous because I’m unlikely to be spotted in this section. My and Tristan’s quarters are secluded. The children he sometimes entertains may pay a visit, but that’s it.
When chores are finished, I head to the fields. I have duties as Tristan’s second. As per my promise to Father, I left my jacket in Tristan’s room, leaving my arms exposed. I get a few looks, but they’re innocent ones. A few dragons avert their eyes not willing to stare too long at the Warlord’s omega. Okay, maybe I kind of like this. There’s a sense of ownership attached to the act and I’m a sucker for it. They know I’m his and recognize it in small ways that I get to enjoy even without him here. My mind drifts to the way Tristan kisses me—dark and possessive. I bring out his dragon.
I’m the only one who does that. I’m his. His bite on my neck throbs pleasantly.
“Has the Warlord been by, General?” I ask.
“No, Omega Kanes.”
I frown. It’s not like him not to show up before lunch. He’s been fine when he’s with me, but what’s he like when he’s not? Even Father is worried about him. I don’t allow my worry to show, but I know it has to be because of me. Has he changed his mind?
I’m able to carry out Tristan’s business with the general for him and I check on the new recruits. At long last, a messenger arrives to tell us Tristan won’t be here and that he’s with Father. I stay and perform my duties as second, shelving the pit in my stomach.
It’s going to be over between us, isn’t it?
Father wasn’t soothed after our meeting and had his own secret designs. Since he couldn’t convince me to seduce him, he might go the other way. It would be tricky, but if Father suspects Tristan of not performing his Warlord duties, he will try to interfere with us somehow.
No.No.I can’t allow that. My omega bond to Tristan roils forth and I need to go to him. “Can you manage for the last hour, general?”
“Of course, Omega Kanes.”
Following our bond, I sense he’s in Father’s throne room. When I arrive, I’m admitted, and Tristan is sitting in a chair off to the side not looking like a Warlord at all. He’s … well he’s pouting.
Thank Drakon, his blue eyes light up when he sees me. “Riv.”
I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to not bowing for Father first. It’s different if Tristan and I were to have entered the room together. I stride over to him and bend to one knee before my alpha. He touches my head. “What’s all this? Have you been traipsing around jacketless?”
Through our bond, I sense jealousy and restrained rage … and lust. It’s all as delicious as I thought it would be, but he’s upset too, and I don’t like that. “I’m sorry, Warlord.”
“Go ahead. Greet him,” he snaps.
I bow before the dragon lord and he’s not as quick to release me. He is pleased with the outcome of his request. “River. I have kept your alpha for observation. This works too. You’ve confirmed the reason he’s distracted.”
He already knew, but now he can smell the pheromones leaking off of us and that will assuage him enough that maybe he won’t ask me to do foolish things.
“You may rise.”
“Thank you, my lord.” I’m anxious to get to Tristan and gallop over as soon as I’m released. There’s no one here other than Artemis, Father’s fourth husband. He hasn’t said a word. He finds the Warlord amusing. It appears that Tristan’s been merely sitting with no purpose. He hates that.
He stands. “Take the chair. I think I’d rather pace if I’m to be here all afternoon, being lectured.”
“You aren’t fine, Tristan,” Father says. There’s genuine concern behind his stern tone. Can Tristan hear it? Father’s lips twist in the way they do when he wants to say something, but he knows how little good it will do.
