Page 93 of The Dragon Warlord
“I might be pouting a little bit too.” They’ll only miss us for two months, but we’ll miss them for at least a decade. “I know it’s not very Warlord-y of me.”
While I’m making a list of complaints, there’s one more I’d like to add. For the first time in our over ten-year history, things between me and River are awkward. That thing I noticed in River’s smile on our first night home—I mean at The Tower—I’m noticing a lot more of it. It’s like he’s decided “Ah, fuck it”, ever since we had our little heart-to-heart. He’s respectful of the boundaries that I put in place, but his truth reigns supreme in every action, word, and twist of his lips.
I try to conjure up his confession, but all I can think about—still—is the part where I said he should take a lover.
“Warlord—Tristan—you’re growling.” He’s making a concerted effort to call me Tristan when we’re alone. “Are you thinking about the time you suggested that I—”
“Don’tsay it.”
The vengeful bond responded. It shifts and changes as a living entity, commanding us despite our wishes. There was a time he could actually graze the bite on his neck. My bite. Now, he’d better not go near it.
But the setbacks had begun before that, slowly reverting us to our early days together, and I didn’t notice what I was doing until River pointed it out. Same with the touching of him. I thought I’d been doing good with that when we were in Mortouge. It felt like I was letting everyone touch him and that we were “normal”. What had actually happened was, I’d simply grown comfortable with everyone being nearer to him. I guess I should be grateful for small milestones.
But being near him isn’t the same as touching and he’s pointed out that I’m only comfortable with the children laying a finger on him in any capacity.
How did we get back here?
River had the good sense to tell me off for suggesting that him seeing someone else was a good idea and he said:
“I am for you. You can choose to take me or not, but I will remain for you no matter what you decide. If all I ever do is serve you that is okay. I’m not asking for anything other than for you to let me.”
He tried to tell me that sex isn’t important to him and maybe he’d like that to be true, but I smell the arousal coming off him. It’s coming off him now and it’s driving me to distraction. It’s calling for me to spread him out on my war table and fuck him until he can’t walk straight.
“I don’t understand,” I’d said to River. “You don’t want sex? At all?”
“No. I only want it with one person. Just one. He’s the only person I’ve ever wanted to have sex with. If he should ever change his mind, he can have me wherever, whenever, and however he likes.”
He told me he likes to pleasure himself.
He told me he aches for me.
He told me he wanted nothing more than to be owned as is the way of dragons and that I could take him whenever I wished.
“You may not fully grasp dragon culture, Warlord,” he reminded me, “but other dragons do. I’m off limits. No one here would be foolish enough to touch your omega.”
That is something I like about being here very much. The dragon pieces of me are understood and even worshiped at The Tower.
If I do fuck him, I can’t fuck him on this table for the first time like a savage. River’s never had sex. He deserves all the pomp and pageantry of a first time.
Gods, dammit. I’ve got to stop this line of thinking.
It doesn’t help that all my husbands are Team River. Elves and their polyamorous nature. Even Alrik, the one I counted on to forbid me since he’s the least polyamorous of my men, gave me his blessing. That’s a direct quote. The conversation went something like this.
“We should talk about you and River.”
“What about me and River?”
“I know you ignore it due to many complicated reasons, but you and River aren’t related. Corrik and I are because we’re from the same parents so while I’m thousands of years old, we’re still a direct relation. There are more than forty generations between you and River—you no longer share lineage.”
“I suppose I have to admit to knowing that, but it’s what I tell myself to prevent myself from … Nope. I’m not even thinking about it.”
“Because of the bite?”
No one will ever know how strong my pull to River is because of that damn bite.
“Yes, because of the bite. There’s no way to tell if our feelings are real or manufactured by magic.”
“Does it matter? They exist.”
