by Jack Whitney
She did a double-take then at the smile on Nadir’s face. He was looking past her shoulder. There was a softening in his eyes, his lips twisted upwards just at the corner, revealing the small dimple on his cheek…
She punched him in the stomach.
“Hey!” Nadir balked, throwing his hands in the air.
“Stop staring at her,” Aydra warned.
“What—she’s staring at me!” he argued.
“He’s not wrong,” interjected Hagen.
Aydra opened her mouth to speak, but Hagen had already taken her hand. “What—“
“Leave him alone, Sun Queen,” Hagen said as he tugged her around. “Let’s have some fun.”
Her eyes widened to Draven, and he chuckled under his breath at her as she was dragged by the Blackhand onto the dance floor. Hagen whirled her out and back into him, causing laughter to emit from her lips despite herself. She was shaking her head at him when he pulled at her hands.
“Shouldn’t you be dancing with one of the women I pointed out to you earlier?” she asked.
He met her smile. “I will. But first—” he twirled her in a circle before taking her hand again “—I needed to clear a bet with my mates.”
She fought the knowing grin threatening her lips. “What kind of bet?” she dared to ask.
“How long it would take before the Venari King came and interrupted us.”
Aydra shook her head. “I’m afraid to say you’ll be owing your men money tonight, Elder,” she said.
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because the Venari King cares little of who I dance with. Jealousy does not live on his public features. He knows he will be the one in my bed later. Who should try and swoon or tempt me otherwise simply does so in foolishness.”
Hagen grinned. “And that’s exactly why I’ll be winning the bet and not the others.”
Hagen told her more of the Blackhand celebrations as they danced, comparing the dance they were having then to their own, promising her they were less formal and more of a grand family gathering.
“Perhaps you and your youngers could travel to our town for one,” he told her. “We’ll put you up in the Temple. Finest rooms at the tallest point in Dahrkenhill. It is most beautiful during the Deads. The stars go on for ages.”
“And when will the next celebration be?” she asked.
“Come in the spring. The fields of flowers are bountiful. The snows will be gone. It’s the perfect time and place.”
Aydra’s chest swelled at the thought of seeing it. “I’d like that.”
“Don’t worry, you can bring your forest lover as well,” Hagen said with a wink.
Aydra chuckled under her breath. “Thank you.”
Dorian came and took her from Hagen’s arms after another dance, insisting he go and ask Lex for a dance. Aydra laughed as Dorian spun her around over and over, attempting to dizzy her to the point that she could not see around her.
“You are glowing today, my sister,” Dorian said finally as he held her so she did not fall. “Tell me your secrets.”
Aydra’s chest filled, and she swallowed hard as she steadied herself. “One day, I hope you and your sister find the truth that was once written in these walls… how the first of our race was happy, fearless, and gracious to all the people of Haerland. Not what I was told was our truth, not what my Olders had been told was our truth… I have tried to protect you both for as long as I can remember. You deserve so much more than the past atrocities of this kingdom.”
His jaw tightened, eyes softening just so as he twirled her around again and then back into him. “You deserve everything, Drae. Love. Freedom. Happiness…”
A smile rose on her face and she did a double-take at Draven’s figure heading towards them. “Someone to walk this life equally with,” she added.
Dorian’s eyes squinted, and he turned her so that he could see exactly who it was she was staring at. She heard him laugh under his breath, and he shook his head knowingly. “Exactly.”
The smile on Draven’s face made her heart quiver, and it was as though she were seeing him for the first time—the swelling in her chest, jagged breath leaving her lungs…
Tunnel-vision surrounded her, and suddenly she was in the room with only him there with her.
Draven clapped Dorian on his shoulder. “Do you mind if I steal her?” he asked her younger.
Dorian let go of her waist and held out her hand to Draven. “By all means,” Dorian said, giving him a short bow.
Aydra hardly noticed her brother leaving as Draven pulled her hand to his lips, and he kissed her knuckles. The cold air brushed over her wet skin, causing her muscles to ache.
“My Queen,” he muttered against her flesh.
A deliberate warmth spread from his kiss up her arm, and then down her spine, and she felt her thighs squeeze as he stared through her core with dilated pupils.
“You really shouldn’t call me that when there are other people in the room,” she managed.
A quirk of a smile rose on his lips, and he slipped a hand around her waist, grasping her flesh just noticeably and sending heat directly to her stomach. “Why’s that?”
“Because I find myself dripping whenever you say it,” she breathed in his ear.
She felt the goosebumps rise on his arm, and he stared at her with a dark smolder that made her own hair raise. “If I can’t call you my queen in public—” he twirled her once and then pulled her back into him “—then you certainly can’t say things like that.”
She almost laughed. “We’ll call it even.”
She could feel the eyes of those around them staring, heads turning as they danced in circles, him occasionally spinning her out and then into him just as the men had done that danced with her previously in the night.
But her chest swelled every time he would smile at her, pull her flush against his torso. And more times than once, she felt her heartbeat quicken when he would touch the bare flesh on her back.
“I need to tell you something,” he said in a breath.
Her eyes narrowed just slightly. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for one of the Blackhand women already,” she mused in a playful tone.
He chuckled under his breath and shook his head. “As appealing as they’ve made themselves, no. Nothing like that.” He pulled her close and held her hand against his chest. She could see a seriousness rise in his gaze, and he sighed audibly.
“It’s actually more of a question,” he clarified.
She eyed him. “Okay…”
“Will you help Nadir with one of the water serpents?”
Her face faltered, and she wanted to slap the rising smile off his lips. “Seriously,” she muttered, unable to keep herself from smiling. “You are such an ass, Draven.” She pushed his chest slightly as he continued to chuckle at her, pink rising on his cheeks. “I thought it was something serious!”
“I am serious,” he argued. “He wanted me to ask. Apparently it’s terrorizing the children because of the ships.”
She shook her head and felt her lips twist up at his grinning face. “Maybe it is he who is terrorizing it,” she uttered. “I can’t believe you just tricked me like that. I thought something was wrong. Like you were suddenly going to tell me you didn’t love me or that—”
“If I ever tell you that, something is very, very wrong. Someone is trying to kill me or worse,” he interjected, squeezing her hand. A different seriousness rose in his gaze, and he swallowed hard as he stared at her. “Aydra, you… You are my equal core. My partner. My comforted darkness in a world of deafening light.” He paused as they swayed, and she watched him exhale deeply and give her a small shake of his head. “Shrouded with you in the shadows of our Sun is the only place I ever want to be.”
A rasp of a breath left her as her heart caved in her chest. “How am I not supposed to tell you I love you when you say things like that?” she whispered.
His jaw tightened, and he cupped her cheek in his hand. The glisteni
ng in his eyes made her own tear up, and he looked as though he would shake his head again, but instead he sighed audibly.
“Restraint,” he uttered.
She almost laughed, and she shook her head slightly at him, feeling her eyes dance as she gazed up at him. “You’re ridiculous.”
He smiled and laid his forehead against hers. “Say it again,” she heard him whisper.
Her hands wrapped around his neck beneath his hair, and she pulled back just slightly so she could see his eyes.
And then she pressed her lips to his.
Ancient enemy races, the Queen of Promise and Venari King of the South, kissing before every race in Haerland.
She felt him smile against her lips, and he grasped her tightly in his arms before picking her up off the ground.
Aydra didn’t care that everyone in the room was staring at them. She didn’t care that the music had stopped playing, that a bewildered intensity had filled the air. All, except for the Blackhands, who’s noises of cat-calls and whistles were echoing around the room, were silent.
Kissing him in front of every being in Haerland was the best way she knew how to express how much she loved him.
Her feet hit the ground, and he wrapped a hand in her cheek as he pulled back, a grin spread over his features. “So much for restraint,” he mumbled.
She huffed amusedly under her breath. “You should know by now, restraint has little place in my core.”
He pulled her flush against him again, and his nose nudged hers. “My Queen.”
The words once more sent chills down her spine as she inhaled the forest scent of him. “My King.”
“Ahem.”
The deliberate clearing of someone’s throat brought her back to the reality of the room. Every couple around them was staring. Aydra caught Nadir’s gaze, knowing he was the one that had cleared his throat, and he gave her an amused wink from where he stood. Calls from the Blackhands of ‘Get a room!’ and whistling continued. But it was the silence of her own people that made Aydra’s stomach knot.
Aydra caught Lex’s eyes towards the door, and she gave her a large grin. Aydra fought the returning smile and stepped back from Draven to look around at her own people, who looked as though they were frozen to the spot on which they stood.
“Why have we stopped dancing? Has the band suddenly died or is that what they are asking for with this silence?” Her eyes cut to the corner where the band was sitting, and at an instant, they started back up.
A few of the Blackhands started trying to dance again, but the Dreamers they stood with were rooted to the floor. They continued to stare at the pair.
Aydra’s eyes wandered around them, meeting every Dreamer’s gaze. Her jaw clenched. “If you value breath, you’ll dance,” she warned.
Slowly, the people took each others hands, and once more the room filled with moving bodies all around them.
Draven’s brows were raised when she turned back to him. She heard a growl emit from his throat as he wrapped his arms full around her waist and bent his head. “I love when you talk like that,” he muttered into her hair.
She smiled and nudged his nose. “Wait until tonight,” she whispered.
And so they danced. They danced until it was only they and the Blackhands left in the room.
And when they retired for the evening, her body surrendered to a restless ache that she swore made her heart pump faster, her body more sensitive to his touch. A night different from other nights, one where they allowed their love to live in their bodies together, not simply a lust-filled passion, but more.
Because she couldn’t stop kissing him. She couldn’t stop touching him. Her sitting on his lap on the lounger as he caressed her body, moving to the bed and to every surface. As long as she was touching him, she was free. His skin felt of a radiant heat on hers she couldn’t explain. It was an overwhelming feeling she never wanted to be rid of, a race of her heart that made her feel alive. An out of body alive that she had to remind herself was real more than once.
This was the home she’d been missing her entire life.
Wherever he was.
And she swore it was the happiest day she would ever know.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
AYDRA AND DRAVEN met with the staff early before the sun so that they could instruct them on how to set up the room for the meeting that afternoon.
It was the largest gathering of minds Magnice had ever seen.
The four royals of Magnice. The Venari King and his Second. The Nitesh and her army commander. Nadir and Lovi Piathos. The seven Blackhand Elders. The Bedrani Council. And finally, every Dreamer Noble and company commander of the Dreamer army.
A table set for thirty-four was not an easy feat.
Aydra and Draven were the only ones who knew where to sit everyone so that a war did not break out over the last roasted turkey leg.
They helped the servants create a great rectangle with the tables. Ten persons each on the longest sides, seven on the other two. She made a point to have the Blackhand Elders on one side, opposite the Nitesh and Honest.
But when she sat her own chair beside Draven’s facing opposite where Rhaif was to be sat, Draven raised his brows.
“I thought we were keen on not starting a war,” he said.
Her lips pressed together, and she fought a smile. “I like to look my enemies in the eye when bringing them to their knees.”
A low growl emitted from his throat. “It is entirely too early in the day for you to be speaking like that.”
She almost laughed, and she continued instructing the servants where to put chairs. “My sister will be beside me, Dorian beside Rhaif on the opposite side with the Council surrounding on both sides. We’ll have the Nobles on either side of my sister and Balandria.”
“You’re giving Balandria a spot at the table?” he asked.
“She’s your next King,” Aydra confirmed. “She deserves it.”
A sleepy Dorian strode into the room then, apparently unaware that they were prepping the room for the meeting. He stopped mid-yawn and frowned around him.
“What’s happening…” he managed.
“Good morning, brother,” Aydra said, giving his hair a fluff. One sniff of him and her nose curled. “Disgusting, Dorian. You smell of sex. Who did you get into trouble with last night?”
He smiled sleepily at her, eyelids halfway over his great blue eyes. “My secrets,” he told her. He wrapped his robe tighter around him and looked around the room again. “What are you two doing?”
“Making sure no wars are started tonight,” Draven replied as he continued to set plates on the tables.
“Why not?” Dorian asked with a yawn. “I thought a great war was what we were preparing for,” he replied.
“That’s a different war,” Aydra argued. “One that we need to have everyone on the same page for.”
Draven’s gaze suddenly narrowed at her. “You’re going to bring up the ships, aren’t you?” he asked.
She stopped moving for only a brief second, and then quickly started folding the napkins in her hands. “Maybe.”
“Aydra—”
She turned away from him, creasing the cloth violently in her hands as she waited for the words she knew he would utter. “You cannot stop me.”
“Aydra, you can’t—”
She started across the room, and he grasped her arm, whirling her back around to face him.
“You don’t know the Blackhands,” he argued. “If you start off talking about war, they will think they have been ambushed into this meeting to bow at your feet. You will start something you cannot control. Do you not remember the last time you brought them up?”
“Then what is the point of all this?” she almost shouted, wrenching her arm away from him. “What is the point of bringing every leading member of the Echelon together in this room if not to talk about the strangers on our shores? What else is there to discuss?”
“Trading routes, goods, the slaves of the northern B
lackhand town, Infi persons in the streets, peace-keeping initiatives—”
She almost laughed, her head shaking at his last words. “Peace keeping initiatives…” Her head shook and she sat her hands on her hips. “The only peace these people will ever see is if we get rid of the strangers on our shores. We have to talk about it.”
“And we will—” he stepped forward and took her hand in his. “But we have to play their games first. You cannot run out of the gate talking about war and invasion. Let them talk their politics, and when your brother tries to end the meeting, bring it up as a last note. You have my full support. You have the word of Nadir and his men, along with Lovi. But you have to be smart about it. We have to present this as something we merely need aid to prevent. Not as the start of a great war between the entirety of this land and some strangers. The only thing we know about them is that they refer to themselves as Man—”
“It will become a great war if we do not handle it.”
“I know,” he affirmed, squeezing her hands. “I know. And I agree. But we have to play the politics.”
A great exhale left her, and her jaw clenched as she glared at him. “Fine.”
Dorian was still standing beside them, and his gaze darted between the pair. A servant walked by with food on a tray, and he grabbed it out of her hands, popping a grape back in his mouth.
“So what food have you two ordered for this meeting? Anything good?”
Aydra’s tense body relaxed, and a great sigh left her as she felt Draven wrap his arms sideways around her. She tossed one of the grapes from the tray playfully at Dorian’s face.
“You’re the worst,” she muttered at him.
The creak of the servants’ door at the back of the room opened, and in walked a petite hooded figure that Aydra frowned at the sight of. None of the servants walking around seemed to be bothered by the person coming in.
“Nyssa?” she called out.
Nyssa jumped, and scarlet hair fell from beneath the hood. She grabbed onto her chest and turned to face them, obvious she had just been startled. “Drae,” she managed, widened eyes looking around them. “I didn’t expect—” she paused and looked around them then, apparently just noticing the grand table being set up. “What’s going on here?”
