Page 9 of A Witch for Solstice
“You can’t do that,” Daniel sputters. “What about all of the noble families who are visiting? They’re chomping at the bit to talk to you before the event.”
“They’ll have to wait,” she responds. “Aren’t you always telling me to take a break?”
“Yes, but I don’t mean right now.” He throws his arms out. “Not with these feral nobles vying for your attention. You can’t leave me alone with them!”
“I’m sure you can handle this,” Matty calls back as the guard opens the door. “Have I told you you’re my favorite cousin lately?”
Daniel folds his arms over his chest. “Well, you’re not mine. You’ve been demoted to third place. Below Raven and Anthony.”
“Raven? Have you forgotten about that one summer when she destroyed your miniature model of the Wing City?”
Daniel grunts. “Fine. You're my second-favorite cousin, then, but you’re definitely worse than Anthony.”
Matty chuffs a laugh and sets me down once we’ve crossed the threshold, my feet touching the dry, carpeted floor. I should be shivering from the draft that blows in behind us with only themothsilk covering me, but I’m still warm from the afterglow of our session.
“Sorry,” she huffs in mock exasperation as she waves me toward a narrow staircase carved into a stone wall. “You know how family can be.”
I’m hit with a pang of longing for something I’ve never really experienced. A piece of me has always been missing, even before my magic was taken. It’s a type of loneliness that I’ve learned to live with, like a stubborn sliver beneath my skin.
“Not really. I spent my nursery years in an orphanage before the directors turned me over to the Academy. I figure they didn't know what to do with me once I showed an affinity for fire,” I say, my words falling flat despite my efforts to sound nonchalant about it.
“You’ve been alone for a long time, haven’t you?” she murmurs, her voice barely audible as she uses a claw to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.
“It’s not a big deal.” I shrug. “How can anyone truly be lonely when there are always cats to pet, good books, and hot tea?”
“Right. How could they be?” she muses, as if she can see right through me. “But I don’t expect you’ll get the chance to have another quiet Solstice. My family will fill these halls tomorrow evening, and it’s going to be noisy. Brace yourself. They’re what I like to callendearingly annoying,and they’re going to adore you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, I think they’ll find you quite fascinating, but a fair warning—they haven’t been around a lot of witches. You’re welcome to tell them off if they start poking and prodding. Don’t feel obligated to indulge their curiosity.”
I scoff although I’m secretly amused by the thought of dragons raking their claws through my hair and pinching mycheeks. “I don’t think a bunch of royal dragons are going to be that interested in me.”
“I’m not from one of the ancient royal families,” she corrects me. “I grew up miles from here, near the Throsk Ridge, and never really left there until I was called away during my time with the Dragon Peace Committee. Afterwards, I stumbled into politics and somehow ended up being chosen as the new Queen. Believe me when I say this was never the path I envisioned for myself after a wild childhood in the mountains.”
My thighs ache as we spiral up the staircase, but Matty’s snippets about her upbringing help to make the climb seem less arduous. It makes sense that she never thought finding her fated mate was some far-fetched fantasy. She was raised by a supportive family, and no one ever laughed at her for having big dreams.
I listen as she speaks of her home and how she used to celebrate the holidays, getting into mischief on long winter nights with her cousins by her side. She sounds wistful recalling those memories, her tone resonating with a feeling I’m quite familiar with.
The Dragon Queen’s court might be crowded, but I’m pretty sure she’s lonely.
I examine Matty’s side profile with bittersweet admiration and make a wish that whoever she names as her mate tomorrow evening will be a good companion. I haven’t known this woman for very long, but I can tell she has a good heart and deserves to be happy.
“I’m trying to make my chamber a cozy space, but it’s still a work in progress,” she says, leading me to a door that opens into her bedroom. Light filters in through the sheer curtains hanging over the tall windows, sparkling off the gold-flecked marble furniture that lends some brightness to the dark walls. Loftywhite blankets and pillows are piled high on her gilded four-poster bed.
I dive right into the fluffy nest and stretch out on my back, dangling my legs over the edge. There’s a mural of a cloudy blue sky painted on the ceiling. “It looks pretty cozy to me.”
“It looks cozier with you in it.” She kneels at the foot of the bed, resting her chin on my knee. My pulse pounds in a steady beat as her warm breath ghosts over my damp inner thighs. I part them brazenly, and she runs her mouth back and forth, her teeth grazing my smooth skin. “Ready for more already?”
“Yes.” I lift my hips, and she moves in, working her tongue into my cleft. I’m extra sensitive after my last orgasm, and it doesn’t take long for her to work me into a frenzy.
This climax is slow-building, forming in a place deep inside of me. I squish the blankets in my hands as it finally barrels through me. Matty keeps on licking and kissing me until I’m sprawled out on the bed, a thoughtless peace replacing all of my earlier worries. I notice the torch glowing in a wall sconce, and for once, I don’t feel the urge to burn something. Satiated for the first time in years, I drift off into a dreamy state, half-asleep.
I jolt awake at the sound of knocking on the door, blinking my eyes open to find Matty smiling at me. She pulls the blankets around my body and kisses my forehead before taking a delivery from a maid. I peek over the covers as she sets a pile of clothes down on the bed.
“This might not be perfect,” she says, holding up a red velvet dress. “But Daniel was a tailor before he joined my court, and he has a good eye for sizing, so it should work.”
I crawl to the bottom of the bed and run my hand over the fine fabric, nearly tearing up at the feel of its buttery softness. “Is this really for me?”
