by Meagan Hurst
“I do say so,” he retorted before kissing her again as her eyes opened. “And you are my immortal human.”
“That is such an oxymoron,” she grumbled as he stood to put the plate away. He could have magicked it away, but, she assumed, he had decided walking would be beneficial. Leaning over before he left, he brushed his lips over hers once more before strolling away as though nothing had happened.
“He does that often?” Crilyne wanted to know when the Dragon was far enough away—not that there was such a thing—that he felt it was safe enough to talk.
“I’ve been awake for a day, Crilyne, I don’t have much to base it on, but as he doesn’t have a dagger sticking from him I would assume, if I were you, that he has permission.”
“I don’t need permission,” Nivaradros replied as he returned to her side. This wasn’t completely accurate, as he had her silent permission, but she let it lie. Explaining it in-depth would probably just frustrate everyone, and Z was certain Nivaradros understood what she hadn’t put into words. The fact he hadn’t forced things also told her much.
He settled down beside her and she leaned into him without even thinking. Once more Crilyne was startled, but Z was too distracted to consider trying to make things easier on the Shade. Plus, she hadn’t forgiven him for his earlier words to Nivaradros, and as the Dragon had saved her in the end, she was less inclined to forgive him sooner than she might have at a different time.
“You always require permission, Warlord. Zimliya is just permitting you to do without it because she is too tired to comprehend half of what you are doing.”
“I am not that tired,” Z argued as her eyes opened. She didn’t remember closing them, but she had a feeling that would be the case for weeks to come, so she did not dwell on it. “How are the kingdoms? I got a short briefing from the Mithane, but he was worried about my health and how it would be affected by a long time spent in a corporal form.”
Crilyne pressed his lips together with annoyance, and Z recalled he had been attempting to leave. Too bad for him. She wanted answers from someone, and Nivaradros didn’t have the information she needed since he had been missing from the action for longer than she had.
“What do you want to know?” Crilyne asked as he threw the Dragon a dark look.
As she opened her mouth to reply, Nivaradros spoke up and caused her mouth to hang open without being useful with words. “Honestly, Shade, I am not about to do anything in your presence. You might as well stop implying as much. Even if something were about to happen, I would first remove you forcefully from the room.” He glanced at Z and smiled wickedly at what she assumed were her burning cheeks. “Unless Z protested.”
She couldn’t even answer she was so shocked and embarrassed. Stammering like an idiot, she managed to hit the Dragon because he was close, but she had to stop to remember what the previous conversation had been about. Dragons. Exhaling and closing her eyes to keep from turning a deeper shade of red, she shook herself.
“How fares Dyiavea? With the Thinyen’s death she would be theoretically in control of her lands, other than the fact that they, too, were overrun.” Zimliya opened her eyes when she felt her control had returned.
“She fares well enough,” Crilyne answered after giving her a look that almost caused her to blush again. “And your theory would be correct about her status in the kingdom other than one minor change…” His voice trailed off and he looked at her before his gaze moved yet again to the Dragon. “An Alliance was called while you were unconscious. Kitra kept me informed of what occurred—I couldn’t attend since you were in such bad shape.”
“An Alliance was called?!” Z cried out in astonishment. “By whom?!” she demanded to know. In all of her time working with the races, no one else had ever been willing to call a meeting that she knew of.
“By, ah, Zyrhis, Dyiavea, Shalion, and Shevieck.” Crilyne’s smile was malicious. “Some of your heirs have been having long discussions while you have been indisposed. Zyrhis reaffirmed the fact that he has surrendered control of his kingdom—and just his kingdom in general—to you, but as that was common knowledge, it was not the shock of the century.”
Z had a very bad feeling about what the Shade was delaying to mention. “Crilyne…” she began as her unease grew. She glanced at Nivaradros and saw the Dragon’s eyes were flashing with delight. Scowling at him before turning her attention back to the Shade, she shook herself and held the gaze of the Shade. “Crilyne, what was the so-called ‘shock of the century?’”
The Shade glanced idly at his hands momentarily before he once again glanced at Nivaradros. “Do you intend to take a consort-like position?” he asked the Dragon.
Nivaradros shrugged. “We’ll probably have to give our arrangement some sort of term everyone else knows since it is clear the Dragon term only leads to anger and confusion, but it will be something that we work out later since it is of minor importance. In answer to your question, yes, I do intend to take something similar to a consort’s position. I will not, however, settle for being called that. It is a demeaning term.”
Dragons. Z didn’t even want to ask. “Crilyne?”
“You are now the holder of two very prominent and powerful races. Dyiavea also stated that her kingdom acquiesces to your leadership.”
“I don’t have a kingdom and I am not a ruler!” Z snarled as the Dragon grabbed her arms to keep her from attacking the Shade. Or pretending to. She probably would have ended up with a face full of floor if the Dragon hadn’t caught her, though his hold was light and careful.
“Easy,” the Dragon murmured in her ear. “You’re injured, remember? Do not tear open your wounds. You are currently very fragile. If you want to kill him, you will have to tell me how and let me do it or wait until you are well enough to attack him.”
She exhaled with a shaky breath but forced herself to settle, letting her anger fade into the background once more. “And if I refuse?”
“As it was already stated before all the remaining rulers, I do not think it would be wise. It would likely weaken both your status in the Alliance, and the status of those two kingdoms. Of course, it is your decision.”
“The Dralation kingdom is currently overrun!” Z pointed out. “How can Dyiavea abdicate her rule if she doesn’t even have it? She cannot, and since she cannot, she has no power to speak of such things in the Alliance. Weaken my stance by speaking out? Hasn’t she already done that?”
“No,” the Dragon inserted in a thoughtful tenor. She could tell he intended to be helpful, but his words were no comfort. “I believe she has handed you a war. Rather clever on her part. She doesn’t have the power over her people some of the other heirs would have, and the rest of the races must have been eager to slaughter any Dralation they could find upon discovering it was the Thinyen who attacked you—”
“And you,” she reminded him.
“Well, yes, but they don’t like me. They are all very fond of you though,” Nivaradros pointed out before rolling his eyes in a human like manner—which was odd looking with the shape of his pupils and their color—before he returned to what he had been saying before her interruption. “This way she has successfully protected her race as best she can. If they are your people, attacking any of them could put any one ruler at war with you. Although you were unconscious at the time this went on, I am positive none of the other immortal or mortal races was confident enough in their knowledge of you to adequately judge how you would react to this news. If you reacted poorly to being handed a kingdom, they would have had little to fear and could have continued in their slaughter—I assume there was one?” Nivaradros paused and glanced at the Shade. Crilyne nodded, which caused Nivaradros to snort. To Z’s open astonishment, it wasn’t Nivaradros who continued and finished the conversation.
“But if you did care it would mean that you could take the kingdoms not involved in the slaughter and attack those that were. I seriously doubt there is any one kingdom suicidal enough to tempt your hand in that
manner. Not after how protective you were over Tenia,” Crilyne finished.
“Exactly,” Nivaradros agreed with a slight smile toward the Shade. Only it wasn’t a true smile. Z wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be—smiles didn’t have that much ‘I can’t wait to see your existence wiped from the world’ in them. Oh, in politics there were smiles that said that of course, but Nivaradros’s lips had twitched upward for only a second before shifting into something different and threatening. In fact, if Z had been the Shade she was certain she would have taken her leave.
He wasn’t her, however. Crilyne inclined his head to Nivaradros and turned his attention back to her. His lips thinned once more as Nivaradros placed an arm around her. “Is that necessary?” he wanted to know. Frost dripped off each word.
“She’s shaking,” Nivaradros pointed out as she blinked in surprise. She hadn’t even noticed it, but when she managed to lift a hand just out of her lap she found it was in fact shaking. Of course, it occurred to her as she lowered it that it also could have been shaking from the strain of her lifting it, but she wasn’t going to argue the point with the Dragon.
Crilyne’s frown deepened, but he conceded and moved on in the conversation. “The meeting went as well as it could since it was the first called by someone other than you, and the first to take place without your presence. Kitra stayed afterwards to eavesdrop on people. I should warn you, she feels it is very probable that the Islierre will attempt to kill Shalion.”
Z sat up so fast she hit Nivaradros’s arm hard enough to move it an inch. Flinching as she heard something that sounded like a bone breaking, she glanced at Nivaradros and saw a resigned expression touch the Dragon’s features before his eyes lost some of their focus as he stared at her shoulder. A minute later he blinked and his eyes darkened with relief.
“You didn’t break anything—do not do that again.”
“What about Shalion and the Islierre?!” Z demanded instead of answering Nivaradros.
“Their relationship seems to be noticeably strained. Shalion was wounded in the meeting, and he would not answer any inquiries into how he received it. Likewise, the Islierre was wounded.” As she opened her mouth to point out that they had been trying to retake their kingdom, Crilyne held up a hand. “They were wounded, however, by shadow magic.”
And the only two of that race Z knew who could control that element were the Islierre and the Islierri. Any other Ryelentions born with that ability were hunted down and murdered before they could challenge the current Islierre for the throne. Outside of the Ryelentions though, Z only knew of four who could control the element. Nivaradros, her, Shanii, and Shanii’s sire. Since she and the Dragon had been indisposed for some time, and neither Shanii nor his sire would have gone near anyone, it meant either the Islierre had missed a shadow wielding Ryelention in his annual hunting, or Crilyne was right and Shalion was making a move against his father. Or worse, the Islierre had decided Shalion was no longer needed.
Turning frantically to Nivaradros, she met his gaze. “We need Shalion alive—Nivaradros, he has to be brought here.” The Dragon’s gaze was unreadable and cold, and she hesitated before placing a hand over his. “Nivaradros, please?” she whispered before she closed her eyes in the answering silence.
Chapter 3
Z cursed for several minutes while she tried to figure out what the best course of action would be for her current situation. Her current situation was downright embarrassing if anyone happened to walk in. Granted there had to be someone around to walk in. Nivaradros had taken off in the early hours of the morning without so much as a word about where he was going or what he was doing. His words had, on the other hand, been full of concern and instructions for her.
Two weeks after the visit from hell between Crilyne and Nivaradros—she didn’t even want to think about the argument that had occurred when the Shade had been on his way out—Nivaradros was tentatively willing to let her stand on her own and move around. Unfortunately, he was also very, very strict about how much and what kind of movement she was permitted to do.
And now, she knew all too well why the Dragon had been so damn picky regarding what she did and did not do. Glaring at the side of the bath that seemed to be easy to get out of, but in fact was impossible for her—in her current condition anyway—Z considered giving in and using magic, but the idea of magic made her skin crawl. She might have accepted all three titles of the Rangers: Scholar, Warrior, and now Mage, but that didn’t mean she had to like the final one.
Cursing again, she continued to half sulk as she considered her options. A bath had seemed like such a simple and useful exercise. Nivaradros’s many ointments had done wonders for her wounds, but they left horrible stains on her skin, and she had managed to get to the bath, undress, get in, and clean herself off before she had gotten stuck.
The only silver lining was that she’d had about an hour to study the bath’s design and creation. Nivaradros, she had decided with sour amusement, was something akin to a genius. She didn’t know why he had never decided to share his ideas or use them elsewhere, but the magic he had formed to make this bath was just as impressive as his living creations in some of his halls. He had not foreseen her inability to get out of the bath, or he had thought he would always be nearby, because there was no quick exit in case of danger. And she was beginning to lose strength and energy. The thought of the argument the Dragon was likely to start when he found her—if he returned before she drowned or resorted to magic—was depressing, but it wasn’t yet enough to make her move to use her power. Not for something this magic-cursed stupid.
Or so she thought. Sometimes, she had found, it would have been much better to just use her magic. The doors opened, and Z cursed under her breath at the sound of a familiar voice, but one that wasn’t the Dragon’s.
“Uh…maybe I should come back, Nivaradros,” an amused and resigned male speaker said.
“After all the trouble I went through to fetch you?! Why in the world would you want to…? Oh. Z, what in the hells are you doing? I said no baths!”
Nivaradros strolled past their guest until he stood at the edge closest to her. Since she was almost in the center of the tub—of which she couldn’t touch the bottom—any side he picked would have been about the same distance away, but before he could start to lecture her, she shot him a silent, but pleading look. Scowling at her, the Dragon sighed and glanced at his clothing, and then at the injured Ryelention Islierri who was watching Z’s attempts to stay afloat in the center of the bath with concern.
Worry for her won out over modesty. Nivaradros’s clothing wasn’t the best for water so he shed most of it. Of course, the Dragon had her sense of modesty, but she had a feeling he was touchy about showing off his scars to anyone but her. Crilyne had almost lost a hand when he had gotten too curious during his stay, and Nivaradros had barely been willing to answer the Shade’s harmless questions afterwards. Still, it was Shalion, and even Nivaradros seemed to be relaxed in his presence. Wading into the bath with just a pair of pants on, Nivaradros made his way over to her with care. Grabbing her and swimming back to the edge where the stairs were, he lifted her as though she weighed nothing and carried her back to the bed he still encouraged her to use for extended amounts of time.
“You might as well come in, Shalion,” Nivaradros remarked as he set her down on the bed and began removing the soaked bandages from her chest. Not all the wetness was from water, and Nivaradros’s expression soured and his eyes brightened when he noticed just how much blood she had shed while trying to figure her way out of her mess. “You’ve seen her naked before.”
Trailing into view, the Islierri glanced at her with a wince, and Z was reminded of the fact that Shalion had seen her at her worst before she had been brought here. Since her arrival here though, Shalion’s updates had been limited and, despite all Nivaradros’s work, she knew she still looked terrible.
“I have,” Shalion agreed with his soft, musical voice, though he did avert his gaze.
“But it was a while ago, Nivaradros, and it was before you two were…well, together.”
Nivaradros snorted. “Nothing’s going on between us at this moment. She’s still too injured, and I am almost certain she is going to vacate the bed when I so much as hint at possibly of trying anything outside of what she tolerates now.” Z felt herself tense up at his words and she also felt the telltale signs of a blush starting. “See,” Nivaradros told Shalion with a nod toward her face. “She can’t even tolerate me hinting; I haven’t said anything!”
Shalion’s laugh was the whisper of wind she remembered, but he still made no move to approach either her or the Dragon. “It will take some time I am sure, but like I said long ago about her: if you’re willing to wait, you do have the best chance.” His eyes were at their calmest, but when they met hers, Z saw a deep worry in them as their color began to shift toward orange.
“How are you doing?” he wanted to know as he held her gaze. Since the Dragon was busy rewrapping her wounds, she knew he could see that she still had remnants of the giant holes the arrows had gifted her with, but they were shrinking rapidly. She was almost certain they would be fully closed within three to four more weeks.
“I’m alive,” she said with a crooked smile. “And I am not the one who is covered with wounds from battles with shadow.” Holding him with her eyes, she waited to get a read on him, but Shalion’s expression and stance gave nothing away. Whatever he was up to, he felt no guilt over it, and he was unconcerned about her reaction. Both troubled her. Moving away from Nivaradros before the Dragon was finished, she managed to get to her feet before Nivaradros grabbed her. It was a gentle hold, but it got her attention.
“Easy,” Nivaradros warned. “Let me finish with your wounds,” he added as he glanced at Shalion. “Shalion is going to be a guest of ours for a time,” the Dragon explained as he finished with her bandages at long last and headed over to her wardrobe to grab some clothing for her to wear.
