Page 43 of Bride of the Black Dragon
Xaren catches me without hesitation.
Before I can blink, I’m in his arms. He lifts me as though I weigh nothing at all—just scoops me up and presses me to his chest like I’m precious to him.
I feel safe there, pressed against him. For the first time since this nightmare started, I feel safe.
"It’s all right now, sweetheart—I’ve got you," he murmurs.
He carries me out of the Royal Gardens, past the silent Nobles and the blood-red roses.
The Queen’s prized blooms wave gently in the breeze. Their curling black-red petals shine in the sunlight like velvet dipped in ink. The switch Dorian used still lies broken on the path, its thumb-sized thorns glinting with ruby droplets of blood—my blood.
The sight turns my stomach, but I’m not afraid now because Xaren has me.
And he isn’t letting go.
22
ELAINA
Xaren carries me through the echoing halls of the Citadel, his arms hard and sure around me. I can feel his fury in the tightness of his muscles, the way his heartbeat hammers against my cheek. The air around him feels alive—too hot, too charged—his Drake must be close to the surface.
The thought should frighten me—he carries a huge, unpredictable beast bigger than a house hidden inside him—one that can breathe fire. But I know his anger isn’t directed at me. So the menacing presence has the odd effect of making me feel safe. No one in their right mind would come after me now—not when I’m in the arms of such a fierce protector.
We get curious stares from the Nobles we pass. The servants and guards are smart enough to keep from gawking. I’m sure we’re providing all kinds of grist for the rumor mill that the upper-class lives for here in the Citadel, but at the moment, I don’t even care. I just want to get somewhere private where I can tend my wounds.
Xaren must think the same, because he takes me straight to his rooms. He says nothing as we descend the stone stairs into the lower keep. Only when we reach his chamber—his sanctuary carved from black marble and shadow—does he stop. The door closes behind us with a low thud that seems to shut out the world.
Without a word, he takes me straight to the bathing room. Steam curls from the deep marble tub as he opens the golden taps and begins to draw a bath. The water glitters in the witch light, filling the chamber with warmth and the scent of mineral salts, which he adds from a jar which sits on the edge of the tub. They smell of something darkly sweet—myrrh, maybe. I hope they won’t make the water sting too much—my legs already feel like raw meat.
Xaren sits me on the edge of the tub.
“Are you all right, little dove?” he asks softly, crouching in front of me. His voice is rough but careful. “What exactly happened?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, my throat tight. “I was going riding and Dorian just… appeared. I think he must have been waiting for me.”
The words catch in my throat as I remember how startled I was—how frightened. I press my lips together, but the tears still come.
“Hey.” Xaren’s tone softens. “It’s all right now, sweetheart. I’m here—I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” He shakes his head, his hand gentle against my knee. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I should have killed him.”
His eyes flash a murderous gold.
“You can’t kill your own brother,” I object. “You’d be banished from the Kingdom or worse.”
He sighs.
“Like as not, you’re right. I just wish I’d gotten to you sooner.”
“How could you know what he would do?” I manage between sniffles. “And for that matter, how did you even happen to be there at all? Did you hear my screaming?”
He shakes his head.
“I was in here—I couldn’t have heard you no matter how hard you screamed.”
“Then how?—?”
“My Drake gave me a warning,” he says, frowning. “He felt you were in trouble.”
I blink through my tears.
