Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(91)
Jordan nodded, but her knees felt faint.
Dear God in heaven, was she really going to do this?
Was she really going to walk into that temple—tomorrow—and face the seven dragon lords?
Was she really going to submit to rebirth…by fire?
“I…I…” The words wouldn’t come. She was too consumed with terror. “Just hold me, Zane.” She was about to come apart.
As his arms enfolded her back, his wings expanded, seamlessly, and he wrapped her up in a warm satin cocoon, cradling her against his chest. “I’ve got you, angel. Just breathe. Just breathe. I promise you—I will never let you go.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Sunday ~ Temple of Seven
When Misty Collins-Topenzi, Tiberius’ mate, dropped Jordan off at the temple steps—exactly at 7 PM—Zane’s heart lodged in his throat.
She was positively stunning.
A vision from beyond.
Her hair was swept up into a loose chignon and plaited with a string of sapphires. Her neck was adorned with an intricate, braided choker, sparkling with all seven sacred jewels; and her gown looked like something out of fairy-tale tome: layers of satin embroidered with silk threads; dozens of sapphire-charmeuse roses, each flower encircled by a translucent chiffon bow; and a bodice so adorned in beadwork and lace that it appeared timeless, even ancient. Jordan looked like a princess, and there was nothing excessive about her enchanted ensemble: It was elegant, regal, and graceful.
Just like the woman who wore it.
But then, there were her eyes: glazed over with shock, absent of joy, and stark with reflection of terror in their depths.
Zane stepped forward and took her gloved hand, even as Misty whispered something in her ear, hugged her from behind, and quickly retreated…not looking back. “Look at me, dragyra,” he commanded softly.
Her eyes darted to his.
“That’s it. Look right at me and listen.” He squeezed her hand in an unyielding grip. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step—no one is asking you to embrace the entire journey in this particular moment. I am only asking for a single step: the next, solitary step. That’s all you have to do. That’s all you have to take: one step at a time, dragyra—it is all the bravery that’s required. From this second forward, we do what we practiced. We take…just… one… more… step…together.”
Jordan nodded frantically, and Zane knew she was at her wits’ end. If he pushed her in any way—if he made her think, or feel, or go too deep inside—her valor would be lost. He needed to lead her, exactly as he was doing, one courageous step at a time.
And so they walked up the temple stairs—slowly, and together—one marble stair at a time; traversed the outer platform; and entered into the foyer, beneath the high, arched doorframe, where they approached the sacred, cleansing fountain.
The echo of Jordan’s elegant shoes against the diamond foyer floor was unnerving to his dragyra, and he had to stop, yet again, to calm her nerves. “You’re doing great,” he reassured her. “We’re already to the fountain. Look at me, dragyra—tell me what comes next.”
She blinked through tear-stained lashes and her lips began to quiver. “We have to go inside—”
“No,” he interrupted. “You’re getting too far ahead of yourself. “What are you going to look at?”
She sniffed and bit down on her lower lip. “I’m going to look at you.”
“That’s right,” he whispered. “And what is the next single step?”
She looked down at her opulent shoes and stared at the light-reflecting deck, pointing six inches in front of them toward the edge of the ornamental rug, the one that sat beneath the fountain. “I need to walk to the rug.”
His heart lifted. “That’s right, angel. You need to take another step. Lift your foot…now move it forward…now place it back down, right here.” He bent to kiss her on the temple. “You’re doing amazing, Jordan. Stay with my voice. Look only at me.”
She wrung her hands together, and her shoulders tensed. “Okay,” she breathed quietly. “Okay.”
“One more?” he asked, systematically taking her to the fountain, where he placed her hands in his and dipped both sets into the water. As the undulating current began to swirl around their fingers, and the lords began to draw from their heat, he nuzzled her ear with his nose. “Be at ease, angel. That’s just your body losing a little of its warmth—it’ll pass quickly. Just breathe.”
She took a slow, deep breath and waited as Zane blew the frost from her fingers and heated them up with radiant smoke. By all the gods, this woman was a miracle—she was already halfway there. Drying their hands on a satin cloth—he wasn’t about to ask her to shake them out—he led her forward, one step at a time, until they reached the massive sanctuary doors.
And that’s when his own courage waned.
That was when he remembered Jaquar, and he felt the weight of his amulet bearing down on his chest: Jordan had to enter the temple of her own volition, and for a moment, he just wasn’t sure…
He released her hand, pried open the heavy stone doors, and stood to the side, waiting for his dragyra to cross the threshold…to enter the Temple of Seven.