Lord's Fall (Elder Races #5)(23)

The bells at her wrist tinkled as she raised a hand and laid it at his chest where the robe parted. Her fingertips were cool on his bare skin, her hand unsteady, resting against him as light as a trembling butterfly. “It’s at times like this that I want to say something incredibly foolish,” she said. She sounded breathless.

He captured her fingers and brought them up to his lips. “Like what?”

She murmured, “Like I’ll wear anything you want me to, whenever you want.”

“I see nothing at all wrong with that statement.” He mouthed the words against her fingers.

She snickered. “Of course you don’t. And I’m not saying it. I’m only confessing to the impulse.”

He told her, “You should always tell me your foolish impulses so that I may take advantage of them.”

“That is not going to happen, your majesty,” she informed him. “The ones I do tell you are bad enough.” She looked down at herself and her voice grew mournful. “This outfit makes me look fat, doesn’t it?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he growled. He had started to bend down to her for a kiss, and he reared his head back to glare at her. Without a clever layering of clothing to hide it, her slender waist flowed gracefully out to a lightly rounded belly, and her br**sts were lush and ripe, the creamy skin soft as a white peach. Everything inside him tightened at the sight. “You look utterly incredible.”

She swayed forward. He put an arm around her as she leaned against him, and his head came down over hers. He rested his cheek in her thick, soft hair, and for the first time that day the dragon’s constant, rogue urge to violence subsided. What it left behind was a deep, hungering ache. He wanted to drag her to the ground and ease his c**k inside of her while she gripped him with her inner muscles and rocked him with her strong, supple body until he spilled everything he had into her. He was the hardiest of all creatures, but good gods, these dreams were going to kill him.

He slid a greedy, possessive hand down the front of her body to cup her rounded belly. A pang of disappointment lanced him as he realized the familiar, young bright spirit was absent. “I didn’t notice before,” he murmured. “The baby isn’t here.”

She tilted her head back, gaze darkening in ready sympathy. “I can sense him, but I guess he isn’t dreaming?”

He shook his head and shoved the disappointment away. “No.”

She rubbed his back. After a moment she asked, “How did . . . everything go today?”

He answered her real question. “Everybody is fine. All the sentinels and, yes, your friend have won through to the next round.”

“That’s good.” She searched his gaze. “Right?”

“Yes.” Suddenly the playful, pretty scene was no match for his darkening mood. Setting his teeth, he let go of her and turned away.

Silence fell between them. He gazed over the endless-seeming, empty desert with a scowl. When he heard tinkling and a splash, he looked over his shoulder. Pia sat by the edge of the oasis with her feet in the water, harem trousers rolled over her knees. She had taken off the anklets. She straightened one leg and lifted her pretty foot out, looked at it then let it fall with a splash back into the water.

Somehow she knew when not to push him. Yes, she was wiser sometimes than he would ever be. He walked over to ease down behind her until she sat between his legs, and when he put his arms around her again she leaned back with a sigh. The feel of her body in his arms felt maddeningly familiar and yet somehow incomplete. Damn these dreams, yet he would not go the week without them.

He said, “I asked Gray to be my First, and he said yes.”

She turned her head slightly. “That’s great news.”

He sighed. “We also talked a little about Rune and what happened last summer.”

She said gently, “That must have felt complicated.”

“It did.”

“I’m glad you finally talked to someone about it. Did it help?” She rubbed slender fingers soothingly along his forearms.

“Yes, actually, it did.” He pressed his mouth to the place where her neck met her shoulder. “How was your day?”

“Complicated too in its own way.” She reached behind her and cupped the back of his head, stroking his hair in a brief caress. “I like Beluviel, and she told me some things I didn’t know about my mom. That hurt, but it was kind of a good hurt, if that makes any sense. I think we really connected. She told me something interesting that may throw a monkey wrench into my visit. They’ve received word that an emissary from Numenlaur is coming to meet with them.”

Dragos raised his head. “Did they?”

She twisted to look over her shoulder, searching his expression. “Calondir has gone into Lirithriel Wood to get ready for their arrival. Have you ever heard of Numenlaurians visiting the U.S. before?”

“No.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “Are you sure that Beluviel said Calondir went into the Wood? She didn’t say that he crossed over to prepare for the emissary in their Other land?”

She frowned and scooted around until she could face him fully. “Yes, I’m sure. Why?”

“Do you remember how I once described Other lands like bodies of water, from small lakes to large oceans, with streams or rivers that sometimes linked them together?” She nodded, and he continued, “I know their Elven Other land is quite large, and I’ve suspected for some time that it has several connections, or crossovers, to Earth and to Other lands. I think they’ve had the ability to travel to and from places in Europe.”