A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)(24)

It was a broom closet.

A small dark broom closet that smelled like feet and floor cleaner.

It was perfect.

“So,” I said. “Hi.”

“Hi, Sam,” he said, sounding amused.

“Okay, enough foreplay. Explain.”

“Enough foreplay? We haven’t even done any—”

“Ryan Foxheart, I swear to the gods if you don’t explain right now, I’ll do… something… terrible, okay I don’t even know what the hell is wrong with me. Oh my gods, explain.”

I felt more than saw his hands come to mine, squeezing my fingers. I could barely make out his features in the dark, and he licked his lips nervously. “It’s just….”

I waited.

“It’s just….”

I was done waiting. “It’s just hard for you to form even the simplest of words at a crucial moment?”

He scowled at me. “Give me a minute.”

“We only have four now. Morgan will banish me to Castle Freeze Your Ass Off. With Randall. Without you. What would I do without you?”

He started to smile. “Ah, that’s so—”

“I mean, there are a billion things I could do without you, but still.”

“—like you,” he said. He shook his head. “Look, Sam. It’s just… you know how important being a knight is to me.”

I nodded, because I did. For the longest time, it’d been the most important thing to him, something he’d been working toward for years.

“And the oath I made,” he said. “It was… everything. For a long time.” As it should have been. Because an oath to a knight is the promise of their life for another’s.

“I know,” I said. “And I know why you did it. I know who you did it for.” His mother, even though she had passed before she could ever see what he would become. “But I don’t—”

“It was the most important thing, Sam,” Ryan said, reaching up to cup my face. “Until you.”

And what the hell does one say in the face of that?

Nothing, apparently.

Because I was gaping at him again.

Also with a boner in my heart.

“I chose you, Sam,” he said quietly. “And I would do it again and again, over anything else. My duty and fealty is to the King of Verania. But my heart belongs to you.”

“Bastard,” I whispered.

He smiled softly, thumbs brushing my cheeks. “So I know why your mother did what she did. She made her choice, like I’ve made mine. Because I can’t imagine a world without you in it. And I hope I never have to. I would follow you anywhere.”

“I am going to kiss you so hard in a few seconds,” I warned him. “There’s going to be tongue and spit and everything.”

“Tongue and spit and everything,” he repeated.

“And you’re going to enjoy it.”

He shrugged. “Probably.”

And so I surged forward and kissed him, knocking him against the wall behind him. It was awkward and messy what with the tongue and spit and the fact that he was laughing, laughing, laughing at me, his smile pressed against mine, his grip firm on my face.

Eventually, I just rested my forehead on his, breathing him in, feeling the heat and weight of him against me, familiar and sweet.

“I’m worried,” he finally said.

“About?” I asked as I kissed his nose and cheek. The corner of his mouth.

“What if…?”

“What if what?”

He sighed, breath hot on my face. “What if she tries to take you away? To her clan?”

I snorted. “Not gonna happen.”

“We don’t know why she’s here.”

“No, we don’t. But I’m not leaving Castle Lockes. I’m not leaving my parents. Or the King. Or Gary and Tiggy. And I’m not leaving you. Ryan, there are things more important in this world than where I come from. And that’s where I’m going. With them and with you. You’re my cornerstone. If she says I have to go with her, if she tries to make me, she’s going to have a fight on her hands, because I won’t let anything tear us apart. I promise.”

“Yeah?” he said, arching against me, sounding rather breathless.

“Yeah,” I said.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said. “There’s going to be tongue and spit and everything.”

I grinned at him. “Fuck yeah. I’m totally down with that. This was hella romantic. Even if it smells like feet in here.”

He rolled his eyes but kissed the hell out of me anyway. So that was okay.




TWELVE MINUTES later, we stumbled through the Great Doors into the throne room, where everyone was waiting for us. I brushed my hands over my hair, trying to smooth it back down, knowing I couldn’t do a damn thing about how swollen my lips were or the stubble burn on my chin. If I looked anywhere near as debauched as Ryan did, then I was going to get so much shit.

“I said five minutes,” Morgan reminded me as we approached the throne where the King was seated. The throne itself was a massive thing, forged from black stone, inlaid with veins of silver and gold and quartz. It was ostentatious, like the heavy crown the King wore upon his head, and he preferred not to have anything to do with them at all. But for appearance’s sake, it was required every so often.