“Drakkir,” Bree said and Kristofer nodded as he squinted up at it.
“I don’t think it’s the one my dad carved.”
Bree had taken custody of his burner phone on the drive and had been busy familiarizing herself with it. She shook her head. “The carvings were copied and replaced in 1964. The originals are in the museum.”
When they got out of the car, Bree turned in place, her smile widening as she surveyed the mountain peaks in the distance. The scenery was timeless in a way, virtually unchanged in centuries. The wind was blowing but not too hard, and there was a wonderful silence. Clouds were brewing in the distance, their bottoms a shade of blue that Kristofer associated with snow.
Bree sighed with a satisfaction that he shared. “Just the wind and the land,” she said and he nodded agreement. “Is your place like this?”
“Maybe a little warmer today, but there are definite similarities.”
“It sounds perfect.”
“I think it is, or it will be now.”
They smiled at each other for a long hot moment, then she gestured toward the church. “That’s where you saw Eirene?”
Kristofer pointed. “On that side. She came from the north, there.”
They walked toward the spot and Kristofer felt a tide of emotion tighten his chest.
“You said your father didn’t believe in love,” Bree said and he was surprised she remembered.
“He thought the firestorm was about conceiving sons and nothing more.”
“You also said you don’t remember your mom.”
Kristofer shrugged. “My father apparently came to her twice, once following the firestorm, then a few years later. I think he meant to collect me, but he seduced her again first. He never spoke of her after he’d taken us from her.” He shook his head. “I’ve thought about her often and wondered how she felt about that.”
“Don’t even try it,” Bree said fiercely, making him smile. “I’ll hunt you down and correct your thinking.”
He looked down at her. “Are you going to finally admit that you’re a romantic, too? And that you believe in the firestorm’s promise?”
She laughed at him, her eyes shining. “You’re pretty persuasive, Kris. I’m sold.”
He grinned at her, relieved even though she hadn’t said the words aloud.
“We’ve got air,” Bree said softly. “If we’re going to give him all four elements, the Pyr way.”
“There’s a river on the far side,” Kristofer said, liking that she wanted to make his rituals her own. They walked together to the other side of the church, where they were completely alone with the elements and the sky, the church silhouetted behind them.
Bree looked down at the canister, then up at Kristofer. “Othala,” she suggested, her voice husky.
Othala, the last rune in the Elder Futhark, meant land and tradition and wealth that could not be sold. He nodded. It was a perfect choice.
A bird called high overhead and Kristofer saw a large black bird swooping down toward them. A second cried out from the opposite direction and he watched as they flew toward each other. They were large and black, as large and black as the ravens that had come to the old man. Their paths crossed over a point beside the river just a few steps ahead of Kristofer and Bree, but they didn’t acknowledge each other. They just flew on, each disappearing into the distance.
Bree walked to the place where their paths had intersected. “Here,” she said, then traced the shape of Othala in the air. It was a diamond, with half a diamond below, and she drew it from the lowest point on the right, making the symbol in a single stroke. It glimmered in the air before her for a heartbeat, then disappeared.
She opened the canister, looked into it, then cast its contents into the air as she whispered a blessing in Old Norse. The ashes swirled, caught in an updraft, and Kristofer was reminded of a flock of birds dispersing. Then they cascaded in a spiral into the river, caught in the current to make long dark trailings on the surface of the water before they sank and disappeared.
First fire, then air, then water. Ultimately they would settle against the riverbed and find earth.
Kristofer took Bree’s shoulders in his hands and felt her trembling. “Stupid tears,” she whispered and he smiled that she disliked the sign of any vulnerability. “I feel like an emotional wreck.” She glanced up at him. “Is it always going to be this way?”
“Maybe until the baby comes. Maybe longer.”
“It’s strange not to be strong,” she confessed.
“You’re strong in so many other ways,” he reminded her. “You can lose a bit of edge and still kick my butt.”
She made a choking sound as if she laughed. Kristofer turned her to face him and she lifted her gaze to his. Her eyes weren’t filled with the terrible beauty of the ocean as they had been in her Valkyrie form, but they were still captivating and magnificent. She smiled up at him and touched his mouth with her fingertips.
“My Drakkir,” she whispered and relief flowed through him. He bent to touch his lips to her brow. “I love you, Kris,” she said and he was glad to hear her confess the words aloud. He’d been ready to wait for however long it took, but he loved the sound of them. “That’s why I did it.”
“I guessed.”
“You always do.” She pulled back to study him, and her expression was so earnest that the sight made his heart clench. “I want to be with you. I want to raise our dragon boys with you and make sure they understand that women can be strong, too.”
Kristofer had no doubt she’d succeed in that.
Her tone turned fierce. “I want to make every moment count. I want to savor every pleasure and wring the most out of every day and every night.” She took a breath and looked up at him. “With you.”
He touched his lips to hers, feeling fortunate to have such a mate.
Bree dropped her voice to a whisper. “Take me home, Kris. Take me home to Vermont and our future. Let’s make it an amazing one.”
“We’ll do it together,” he said and her smile flashed in triumph.
She leaned closer, intent bright in her eyes, and kissed him.
And Kristofer was glad to kiss her back.
Bree awakened at Kris’s home in Vermont a little more than a week after their encounter with the dragon prince. The sun was already shining and it was clearly a beautiful autumn day. She smiled at the note he’d left her in the kitchen beside the hot pot of fresh coffee and went to the window with her cup of coffee. The Pyr were gathering at Kris’s home—at their home—with the intention of repairing his missing scale. Bree was looking forward to the ritual, both because she was curious and because she wanted Kris to be as strong as he could be.
Kris was already in the pasture, working on a rock wall with Rafferty and Quinn, and even from this distance, she could hear the low chant of the three of them singing to the earth.
His home was beautiful, both rustic and natural, and she felt sheltered within it. She understood the power of a lair and also of his skill as a mason. The stone fireplace at its center was resonant with the power of the earth around them and she liked how the wood fire crackled on the hearth, its heat flooding through the house. The ceilings soared high with exposed wooden beams that reminded her of the stave church. The floors were polished wood or smooth stone, and the windows were large so that it was filled with light. The house was quiet and soothing, a sanctuary and a refuge. It was both evocative of Scandinavian homes and welcoming in a way that reminded her of the new world.
Kris’s land occupied a large valley, with many trees and a sparkling river running down from the hill. They could follow the river to the closest town, where Bree had met his curious neighbors and already made a few acquaintances. She already felt welcomed in this community and that made her heart glow almost as much as Kris did.
Kris’s work was wonderful, and she loved every piece of it that she saw. Immortals never created and Bree wondered why. In his stonework, Kris created walls and fireplaces tha
t would endure beyond his earthly days, and she found a new yearning in herself to similarly create.
One of the neighbors had brought her some perennials for the garden that Kris didn’t have yet, and she was excited about growing herbs. Given her own history, Bree thought it natural to raise bees and keep a big flower garden for them. She’d been doodling garden layouts and Kris had made suggestions for rock paths and borders. By spring, they’d be ready to begin the work and she was excited bringing a vision to reality.
She’d loved his place even before the Pyr had started to arrive for the scale repair ceremony. On this morning, Sara and Melissa were picking apples with Sara and Quinn’s sons, and teenage Isabelle giving directions. Bree knew the others would be coming throughout the day and that the ceremony would be at night.
The only problem was that no one had figured out what had happened to Theo, and she knew this bothered Kris. Although Bree had never met that Pyr, his absence was obviously troubling to his fellows. She had no doubt they’d make a plan to find him once they were all gathered.
Bree started to turn back to get something to eat, but then she saw the horse.
It hadn’t been there before.
It stood in the middle of the pasture, looking directly at the window, as if it knew she was there. It was a stallion, glossy and black, with a long mane and longer tail. It wasn’t a foal and it wasn’t an old horse—this stallion was in his prime and he knew it. Bree knew the mane would feel like silk in her fingers and she knew the horse would run like the wind.
She found herself at the back door without realizing she’d taken a step. Then the door was open and the wind was in her hair. Kris turned to look, shading his hands against the sun, and she knew he’d sensed her presence.
The horse flicked his ears.
She whispered, hoping against hope, and the horse came. He halted before her and bent his head for the bridle. There wasn’t fire in his eyes, but there was a white star on his brow. Just like Bree, he remembered.
She knew with complete conviction that he would never leave her behind.
Just like a certain dragon shifter she knew. She rubbed the stallion’s forehead and gave him an apple from the kitchen, her vision blurred with those tears that she was going to have to get used to. Kris crossed the field and came to stand with her, scratching the horse’s ears himself. He was watching her, she knew it, and she doubted he’d missed one bit of her reaction. “Right choice?” he asked in a low murmur and she looked at him in surprise.
“Where did he come from?”
“This old guy came to the gate at first light, leading the horse. I think he was blind in one eye and he was hard to understand. He asked for you, though. I understood that much.” He looked up, giving her a sudden and secretive smile.
“I think you understood more than that.”
“That was my impression.” Kris rubbed the horse’s ear more slowly. “I asked if this was the spawn of Sleipnir and he laughed, then he gave me the reins. When I looked up again, he was gone.”
“Vanished as if he’d never been,” Bree said and Kris nodded.
“We don’t have to keep him,” he said and she knew he was teasing her. “Horses can be a lot of work, although we do have room...”
“Of course, we’re keeping him!”
He laughed and caught her close, giving her a kiss. “He needs a name,” he told her.
“No one will be able to pronounce his old one,” Bree said, then looked up at Kris.
“What if we call him Storme?” Kris suggested.
“I was thinking we’d name our son that,” Bree said.
It was Kris’s turn to look emotionally overwhelmed and his voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I’d like that. It’s a great idea.”
“Then we’re agreed,” Bree said and patted the horse. “Magnus?” she suggested.
“He is a great one,” Kristofer agreed.
The horse nickered, apparently satisfied with the choice, just as another car pulled into the driveway. It was Drake with Veronica and two boys. Kris strode to meet them and direct them to a place to park. Bree stroked the horse’s nose, knowing that she’d finally found a place to call home. She hadn’t even realized that she’d needed a home, not until she’d met Kris.
She had so much to learn, but had found the best possible teacher. She’d savor every moment, and she’d wish every day for even more. She was going to live fiercely and fully, with no regrets and a dragon by her side. She’d fight with the Pyr and support both them and their mates and raise the best dragon boys possible. Bree couldn’t think of a better fate.
The horse nuzzled her, his nose brushing against her belly. “Don’t tell them yet,” she whispered, although the Pyr probably already knew that she’d conceived.
The firestorm was extinguished after all.
But the promise of her shared future with Kris would endure forever.
Author’s Note
The Poetic Edda is the modern name for a collection of Old Norse poems about gods and heroes. The primary source is the Codex Regius which is believed to date from 1270. The Havamal (Sayings of the High One) is included in this manuscript, as is Sigrdrifumal (The Lay of Sigrdrifa).
The verses included here are English translations of the Old Norse that are in the public domain. There are many newer translations of the Poetic Edda available, as well.
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An Excerpt from Dragon’s Heart
Book #3 of DragonFate
Her kiss will rock his world...
Dragon-shifter Rhys believes in what he can hold in his talons. A chef with his own restaurant, he is organized and practical, and dislikes surprises. When his firestorm sparks in the realm of Fae, he’s sure it’s an illusion and isn’t going to be seduced by a fake destined mate—even if the kiss of that beautiful selkie melts his very soul.
Lila would do anything to save her kind from extinction, even entreat a dragon shifter to join the battle against the Queen of the Fae. But Rhys is unlike any male she’s known before—he’s unmoved by her kiss and even her surrender to the combustible attraction between them. There’s only one way to convince him to fight, and that’s to conceive his son—even though bearing a child will cost Lila everything she holds dear.
Rhys is awed by Lila’s sacrifice and determined to retrieve everything she’s lost—and not just for the sake of their unborn son. As they plunge into unknown realms with only each other to rely upon, will their combined forces be sufficient to triumph—or will they be forced to surrender even more?
Excerpt from Dragon’s Heart
Copyright ©2019 Deborah A. Cooke
Monday, October 28, 2019—Manhattan
Rhys watched in astonishment as the portal opened in the wall of the bar called Bones. What he saw made no sense at all: never mind that the Pyr were in the company of vampires and a werewolf with attitude who wanted to make an alliance. Kristofer’s firestorm had ignited, his mate had vanished through a solid brick wall, then Kade had drawn a doorway on the wall and it had opened.
He wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be imagining things.
In fact, Rhys didn’t think it was possible to be drunk enough to have hallucinations like this. It must be really happening. There didn’t seem to be anything beyond the door that had opened in the wall, just darkness and the glow of Kristofer’s firestorm.
Kristofer was already heading for the doorway, a flame dancing on his fingertip. It was a beacon, leading him to his destined mate and Rhys knew Kristofer would feel compelled to follow it.
Rhys would have hesitated and asked questions, b
ut he was the skeptic of the group of friends. Kristofer was the believer—but he’d have Kristofer’s back. Rhys wouldn’t have gone through that door voluntarily for himself, but he’d go without hesitation in support of a friend.
Alasdair had stepped back with caution, while Hadrian, also in his dragon form, was stepping over the threshold right behind Kristofer. Kade was staring down at the pen he’d used to make the doorway, as if he was astonished by its powers, too. Rhys heard Theo shout in old-speak, but he had to stay with Kristofer.
There was no telling what they’d find on the other side.
He was glad to be in his dragon form.
Rhys stepped through the doorway and felt an icy shiver slip over him. He spread his wings, sensing that the ground fell away beneath him and took flight. There was no sign of either Kristofer or Hadrian and he turned in the air when he realized he couldn’t even see the light of the firestorm anymore. He looked back toward the door and the bar.
There was no door.
He was surrounded by darkness and all alone.
Rhys didn’t panic. That was how others made mistakes. He remained calm and flew onward in the same direction. It only made sense that he’d catch up to the others. Kristofer might have raced on ahead to meet his mate, and Rhys already knew that Kristofer was faster than he was. To his relief, something glimmered ahead and he assumed it was the firestorm. He swooped low, hoping he arrived in time to help Kristofer, only to discover that the glimmer was moonlight reflected on the sea.
What sea?
Dragon's Kiss (The DragonFate Novels Book 2) Page 34
