The Dragons of Nova (Loom Saga #2)(71)

Florence may not have a neat solution, but she knew she had settled on one thing: She didn’t see eye to eye with Ari. That much had become apparent. Ari wanted the past without question, the days of deregulation and progress burdened only by the gates of the mind. Florence knew now that she didn’t want that, not after speaking with Powell. But her teacher remained her friend and ally in both heart and principle.

The door to Derek and Nora’s room slammed as Florence stormed in without apology. The two were still slumbering, wrapped in bed. Startled awake, Florence sat herself at the foot of their bed, comfortable in both their presence and various states of undress. Her eyes only saw the Dragons, still bleeding.

“I have decided something,” she announced before either could speak. “At all costs, we must see the Dragon King dead.”





32. Cvareh


The bocos were kept in stables below, where slaves tacked them and brought them up on command. But he didn’t want anyone but himself touching the seat in which Arianna would sit. He was doting upon a passion most tender and new. But love felt good, especially reciprocated love. Arianna had yet to say as much, but he’d felt it.

He had been with women before, never so intimately, just enough to cross exploratory lines. But that—that was what it felt like to mate. They sung the sweet chorus of passion in perfect harmony, a performance that could never be denied. He’d known hands on flesh before, but it was so vastly different when one had truly found the person he was to be with for the rest of his life.

Until she was ready, Cvareh would treat the blossom of their affections with delicacy. He would see it nurtured. He’d move forward, and wait until she removed one of his toes to let him know he’d crossed a line.

So long as she didn’t, he would relish every new and crisp feeling. He would do all she allowed for her, to her. He would memorize every crease and curve of her body and do it again should he ever find his memory lacking—which would be often.

He knew the feeling would eventually dull. But for now it was as sharp as a freshly forged blade and, for the first time, it was a weapon he was willing to allow Arianna to use to carve out his heart.

“Cvareh’Ryu, you stink.”

He stopped, his hands on the slightly longer saddle he’d been selecting. Cvareh’s fingers tensed, but he kept his claws sheathed. He would not draw them on a friend. But that tone would only be forgiven for so long, and the timer was counting down.

“Cain’Da.” Cvareh squared his hips and shoulders, the tacking of the boco forgotten. “Mind your tongue.”

“You coupled with her.” Cain scrunched his nose, marring the line of his scowl. “You reek of sex.”

“Who I choose to lie with is none of your concern.” Cvareh added a cautionary note to his words. “Watch your words, Cain. We may be friends, but I am still the Xin’Ryu.”

“Then act like it.” Cvareh had never seen this sort of boldness from Cain. “You are endangering not just our House and future, but all of Nova with this tryst.”

“Cain—”

“Cvareh, I am coming to you as your friend.”

It should have enraged Cvareh more, but he did give Cain some allowance. They had grown up together and Cain had always been a good man. He had good will to cash in as he saw fit. If this was how he wanted to do it, Cvareh would allow it.

“Speak your piece.” Cvareh folded his arms with a small sigh. “But know permissions like this will not be given regularly.”

“You know I love House Xin. You know I love Petra’Oji. You know you shall find no one more loyal than I.”

Cvareh couldn’t refute it so he didn’t.

“Cvareh, there is something dangerous about that woman.”

“I am aware of that much.” A smirk lined his mouth. “I think most of Nova is aware after her display in the pit today.”

“That is precisely why I am worried.” Cain’s scowl only deepened. “Her blood, Cvareh.”

Dread was a sobering potion that took effect instantly, dulling the lust and delight that had been filling his mouth and veins all afternoon.

“She has too many organs for a Chimera. She doesn’t smell of rot. She’s strong, like us. And she—her blood, I don’t think that was an illusion—”

“You speculate too much.” Cvareh tried to dismiss Cain from hunting Arianna’s scent. “She is strong, but that is all.”

“It is more than that.” Cain stepped forward and his voice dropped. Even though they were the only ones in the immediate vicinity, he looked as though the very walls and leather saddles would take offense to the whispered topic. “I have heard rumors from those who live on Lysip, rumors that the Riders were seeking you for something about a Perfect Chimera. Yveun has tried to keep them hush, but the quietest of whispers are often times the most true.”

“You would believe Rok bastards over your own House?” Even if the rumors were true—and damn that they were—Cvareh was still taken aback by the idea.

“Are they lying?” Cain knew him too well. When Cvareh didn’t immediately answer, he continued. “Cvareh, the Dono himself fears these monsters, these perfected killing machines. They would be mightier than us. We are born with our magic; they steal it. One creature who could possess all forms of magic, who would imbibe without shame as you know they do.”