A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #2)(59)

If I bled.

A storm of emotions accosted me. Warmth seeped into my middle, and suddenly it was hard to breathe.

You want this as much as I do, my animal thought in the equivalent of a soft tone. As much as the dragon does.

No, I do not. Are you crazy? It would be incredibly bad timing—the worst possible timing in the history of bad timing—to get with child right now. A strange tickling of anticipation and longing quickened my heart. I shoved it away violently. This kingdom is dying, demons are threatening our very existence, and if the curse ends, the demon king will likely wreak havoc. I need to fight. I can’t do that with a child in my belly.

Timing aside, you want a child with the man. You want a future with him, just like the dragon and I do. Admit it.

I trailed my fingers across my flat stomach, and a tear bled out of my eye and down my cheek. I stared out at the night sky. Goddess smite me, I did. Despite our differences in social status, our differences in upbringing, his horrible temper and bad moods…I could see myself happy with Nyfain. I was no longer content with the thought of a solitary future. I was no longer fine envisioning myself alone as I got older. The desire for a family had reasserted itself. A home. A loving mate.

Nyfain had brought about that change.

I wanted to feel for a mate the way I felt for him. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life without intimacy or someone to share my thoughts with. I didn’t want to lose the fire I felt when lost to Nyfain’s touch.

I blew out a breath. These were dangerous waters to tread.

I pulled my hand away from my stomach.

It doesn’t matter, I thought. I should bleed in a couple days. Even if Hadriel was wrong, and logic says he probably isn’t, I’m sure the timing was off. I know how these things work, and I doubt I’m with child.

What sort of logic exists in a demon-created curse?

Please shut up. You’re giving me a headache.

My animal huffed. Try to brush it aside if you want, but I know your true feelings. And I know that taking the tea now won’t do a damn thing. Right? At this point, either you are or you aren’t.

She was right there. All I could do now was wait.

Don’t tell the dragon that, though, she thought, and it felt like she was mulling something over.

Why?

Because the thought of his getting us with child creates this…need in me. It’s deep…and consuming…and primal. I feel it all through me, pulsing. It’s like I’m dizzied, desperate to demand his seed. I feel almost frenzied when I think of his claiming us and putting a child in us. For some reason, when I dwell on it, I can squeeze more power through this cage the demon magic has around me. It’s because of the primal urges, I know it. I can feel it.

So what does this have to do with the dragon?

He’s more powerful than me. He’s been working on escaping the confines of this cage for a lot longer. Before us, his resources were tapped out. The only primal survival mechanisms he’s been able to pull on these last years have been those earned in battle. Fear, rage, adrenaline, etc.

I screwed up my face. I’m not following.

What is more powerful than a species’ biological need to procreate? It’s built in. And an alpha like him, with the attraction he has for us—he’s going to feel it incredibly strongly.

So you think his desperation to procreate is somehow going to break through the curse? I asked.

She took a moment, and it felt like she was gathering herself.

This is what I know, she finally thought, and I could tell she was trying to work things out. Trying to figure out her own constraints. Of all the shifters in this whole kingdom, only one was powerful enough, and headstrong enough, to batter his way through the curse’s hold and force a change. That shouldn’t have been possible, and that dragon took great damage, but they still managed it. Their will to remain together was stronger than the curse’s magic.

She paused, and I waited for her to continue.

When I gather enough power to shift, intent on forcing your hand to do something I want, that happens by drawing on the primal urges within me. To shift. To mate. To claim and be claimed. It’s all primal. It’s all built in. The dragon showed me how, and drawing on it shaves away the hold the curse has on us. Now there is this frenzy to mate, to build a family, and the compulsion is ten times stronger for some reason. I can feel it. I know he can. He will move mountains to see it done. He will be an unstoppable force. The man needs that if he is going to survive. We need it. The kingdom needs it. Plus, I want it. I want him.

I shook my head and stared at the ceiling. Why all of a sudden is this a thing?

Because all of a sudden it became a possibility, idiot. Someone didn’t bother warding off pregnancy with the tea, and that fact has incited the dragon. I doubt he knows the details on how this stuff works, so he’s going to try to load you up with his seed to make sure it takes.

Ew, I thought. I might want a family someday, but I did not want to think of it in those terms.

It was the dragon that set me off, and now I’m buzzing with the frenzy to mate. Or maybe he’s buzzing with it and I’m all for it? It’s all one big, delicious, turbulent jumble of need and longing, and I want to sink down into it and lose myself.

I thought back to Nyfain’s anger when he realized I wasn’t taking the tea. To his outburst. To how that made me feel.

Well, don’t, I thought, another tear slipping down. I won’t try to incite him with this.