Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(12)


“I speak the truth,” said Quinn, superiority in his voice. “Though how you choose to receive it is on your head, not mine.”

Addie heard the rumble in Zayne’s chest grow and decided it was time to step in before things got out of hand. If a fight broke out, she’d have far more to explain to her father than her initial act of disobedience.

“Does he know?” She rose, holding her gown’s bodice in place as she was unable to secure its rear laces on her own, and stepped forward. Though Quinn Blackstone would forever give her the heebie-jeebies, so long as Zayne was here, the warrior couldn’t harm her. Wouldn’t try, if he knew what was best for him. The men cast confused gazes upon her as she motioned for Zayne to retie her gown’s back. “My father—does he know we’ve gone?”

“No.” The glow faded from Quinn’s narrowed eyes. “Prince Tristan sent me to find you before the king grew wise to your ruse.”

“Good. Then if you two are done with all this ridiculous male posturing, we should head back. The king would be furious with us all if he knew where we were.”

Zayne finished with her ribbons and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “Wise words, my lady.”

Quinn, however, turned without comment and stalked toward the fading sunlight.

Good riddance.

Addie turned to face her betrothed, whose own eyes still glowed amber in silent fury, and reached to cup his cheek. After a long moment, his gaze shifted from their unwelcome intruder down to hers.

“You shouldn’t let him get under your skin like that,” she said.

“’Tis impossible not to when he speaks ill of my lady. I should slay him for what he said. Draw a breath of flames and watch him die a slow, painful death.”

“But you won’t, because then you’d be just as big a bully as he is. And I’m not marrying a bully.”

“Marrying.” Zayne closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “Only from your lips could the word sound so sweet.”

Addie shook her head. Matrimony had never been something she planned to do. Why would it when she’d grown up with such terrible role models? A disinterested mother who left one day and never came back, and a drunk of a father she’d grown to despise? No, she’d decided long ago that marriage—and all long-term relationships, for that matter—was something to avoid.

But then she’d found Zayne, and the longer they were together, the harder it was for her to stick to her guns. Too bad marrying also meant being thrust into the royal limelight, front and center before a kingdom full of people.

People who belonged in a world where Addie still felt she didn’t.

Berinon, of course, would disagree. Would insist she was from this world originally, and here was where she belonged. So why did she still feel like such an outsider in her own family’s home? And why, instead of welcoming her home with open arms, had her own sister taken off without so much as saying good-bye?

Addie sighed. It didn’t matter. She’d made her choice, allowed her emotions to trump common sense and chose to remain here. And she was happy with her decision. Mostly. If only this realm’s ceremony was more like those back in Indiana, where the bride and groom weren’t expected to slash their palms and clasp their bleeding hands together as a symbol of their unity.

A shiver ran down her spine.

Two weeks. She had two weeks to somehow summon the courage to endure this world’s most sacred ritual. Today, however, she pushed that worry aside and chose to focus on a more pressing issue—getting home before her father found out and did something awful, like ground her for life.

“Come on.” She pecked a quick kiss to Zayne’s cheek. “We should really be getting back.”





Chapter 6





Rosalind wove through dry, dusty brush and bramble, doing the best she could to stay quiet and keep up with her two…what were they? Captors? Accomplices? She had yet to decide what they were or might grow to be, preoccupied as she was. Because, while her thoughts should be on the here and now, they were instead consumed by the mental rehearsal of what she planned to offer their leader.

“Have ye rode the winds before, princess?”

She flinched from the question, both from surprise and worry. The prospect of being sky-bound with these men made her wholly anxious. On the ground, she could fight. In the air, she would be helpless to do anything but trust them.

And trust wasn’t an emotion Rosalind came by easily.

“Aye, though ’tis not my preferred method of travel. Can we not ride a steed to wherever your leader awaits?”

“No’ if you want to make it past Forath’s guards.” Jaxon, the larger one who’d had enough manners to introduce himself when she joined up with them after consuming her dinner, smiled broadly. “But do no’ worry, I shall not drop ye.”

“How very comforting,” she murmured.

It had been quite some time since last Rosalind had flown. Longer still since she’d been carried in a dragon’s clutches rather than perched upon one’s back. But as she was a stranger to the witches’ sentries, she’d likely not be given another option.

She stumbled over a fallen limb and cursed under her breath. Oh, but she was rattled with unease. Quinn would be furious to know she’d even considered their proposal. But Rosalind knew there was still time to turn around, to draw her knife and fight if need be. Even with her limited training, she could easily defeat the smaller warrior. But not Jaxon. No, the man was far too broad, his hawklike gaze detecting too much. He would see the attack coming before she reached him, but from there she could not envision his response. Would he slay her first or allow her to run?

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