by Rosko, Mandy
Fiona barely took a step away from the mat when Eric was handing her a bottle of water.
“Don’t worry about this,” he said. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re a dragon. I’m sure training was a breeze”
“Not dragon. Just half.”
Fiona blinked. She hadn’t expected him to share such information. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yep. From a marriage between a dragon and the Romulus family.”
Fiona thought back to the presentation, and the tree with so many pieces blacked out. “They’re one of the ones that are no longer around. How is it possible that you’re one of them?”
Eric shrugged. “Oh, in the same way that anyone can trace their DNA back to common ancestors, really. One of their descendants broke off at some point, went rogue and married a human, that sort of thing most likely. The rest of my family is normal, not showing any hint of dragon blood, but some recessive gene or another popped up for me.”
“And here you are.”
“And here I am.”
Fiona wanted to ask more. Did that recessive gene that gave him dragon blood give him the ability to shift, to grow scales, or just have super strength? Did he have enough of the genes to marry a dragon and make dragon babies?
They’d have to continue the conversation later though, because her trainer, who liked calling her by her last name, was signaling her. “Blache, break’s up, get back on the mat.”
* * *
The way Ember blinked at him, as if Inferno was speaking a whole other language, wasn’t exactly what Inferno wanted from his brother. He growled. “What?”
Ember shook his head. “I just…I mean, I knew you weren’t comfortable with the idea of ruling, but are you sure you can make a decision like this?”
Inferno looked away from his brother, and out to the training building. Fiona was getting the basics, and hopefully she’d gain enough skills to save her own life if he was ever not there for her.
“I can’t…”
Ember crossed his arms. “Take your time.”
Inferno wanted to growl at him again. Why the hell did Ember have to be so good at stuff like this? He wasn’t a pushover either. He had power, strength, could handle himself in a spar with any of the guards, as well as Inferno. Sometimes Inferno lost a battle with him. Sometimes Ember lost a battle against Inferno, and it was the same way with Blaze.
But Ember could keep a clear head, something Inferno couldn’t do.
He really should have been the oldest. It wasn’t fair sometimes.
“Am I really that fit to rule if I’m so much as thinking about giving it up?”
Ember pressed his lips together, and then he did a little glancing around of his own.
They weren’t exactly out in the open, but beneath the shade of one of the smaller weeping willows was hardly privacy. If someone really wanted to, they could listen in on the conversation Inferno was having with his brother and record every word. A task that could also be done if they were inside the palace. There was no such thing as true privacy, not for them.
“I think everyone thinks about it from time to time,” Ember said. “Sometimes I’m grateful that I’m not the oldest.”
Inferno snorted.
“You don’t believe me?”
“Not really. You’re exactly the type suited to politics.”
Ember grinned at him. “Right. Everyone always says that about someone else.”
“But you are.”
Ember rolled his eyes. “You sure you’re not just trying to convince yourself of that because you want to hand the crown over to someone else?”
“I…” Inferno’s defenses suddenly started to rise. “Well why shouldn’t I figure out if it’s something that would work? If I’m not capable or fit to rule then don’t I need to know if one of my brothers can take over if I drop the ball?”
“Fair enough,” Ember said, though his eyes were narrowed suspiciously. Inferno didn’t like the way he was looking at him.
“What? What are you looking at?”
Ember hesitated, that gleam in his eyes that said he was still thinking about something. “I get it that you’re worried for your mate. It’s clear she wasn’t born ready for this sort of life.”
Inner hackles began to rise again. “She’s not weak.”
“Don’t put words into my mouth.” Ember full on glared at him. “I didn’t say that, but I can tell you’re worried about her. You’re scared, and to be honest, I don’t blame you.”
“So then what are we even talking about?”
Ember sighed, looking away from him again, as though collecting his thoughts. When their eyes met, Inferno was left with the impression that he’d done something to severely let his brother down.
“You know, I used to think you were so confident about your role because your strength meant you didn’t have to fear any adversary, but I guess finding your mate, and the fact that she is the last of her line, would do this to you.”
“Do what?”
“Bring out this weakness, this paranoia, this concern that you never had for own wellbeing,” Ember said. “But don’t pull this on me, or on Blaze, unless you are absolutely, positively, one hundred percent sure that you’re out. Because I can promise you that I want to be king about as much as you do, and I’m pretty sure Blaze feels the same.”
Inferno didn’t know what to say. Apologizing seemed like the right thing, but at the same time, not nearly a strong enough gesture for what Ember had just saddled him with.
Or, more accurately, what Inferno just tried to saddle him with.
“I’m not saying we wouldn’t step up if we needed to,” Ember said. “But right now you’re just letting your fears get in the way.”
Inferno crossed his arms a little tighter over his chest and pondered his brother’s advice. He turned back towards the building where Fiona was. They would still be going over unarmed holds. Would that be good enough if someone tried to smother her with a pillow while she slept? Inferno wasn’t sure. He didn’t like being unsure, and being a king meant being unsure about absolutely everything for the rest of his life.
“What if she really does not want it? I took her without her permission.”
Ember raised a brow. “You suddenly care about that?”
Inferno growled at his brother. “You’re getting a little too close to putting your throat on my claws.”
Ember clapped him on the shoulder. “Give things time to work out. You made the best decision for her safety, and she’s still trying to wrap her mind around everything that’s happening. And if the rumors are true, the two of you are already well on the way to creating your lasting mating bond.”
Inferno swung on his brother. Ember gracefully ducked out of the line of fire before turning and walking off. As if they hadn’t spoken at all. Anyone who saw either of them right now wouldn’t know the depth of the conversation they’d just had based on body language, that was for damned sure.
He might as well look in on what his mate was doing.
* * *
He was thinking of giving up the throne? For that imposter?
A heat unlike anything ever felt before was nearly blinding, suffocating even. It was insulting to the highest degree.
This would not stand.
18
Fiona was sweating like a pig. Not the kind of sweating she’d seen actresses in movies do where their makeup was perfectly applied and someone had misted them down so their skin was glossy and wet before yelling action either.
No. Definitely sweating like a pig. Did pigs sweat? Who cared, because she was using the analogy anyway. She did not look cute when she was sweating. She looked gross.
She grabbed onto her knees, bent over, huffing and puffing for breath, and actually felt the sweat rolling down her forehead and nose. It made tiny dark splashes on the mats beneath her feet, not to mention her boobs felt like they were swimming, squished into her sports bra. She really
wanted a nice soak and some clean clothes after this.
So, of course Inferno finally chose to show up, when she was looking her worst, just as Fiona’s gut gave up the fight and she vomited all over the gym mats.
Inferno rushed to her side, his large hands touching Fiona’s waist and back, as though getting ready to scoop her up and pull her away from the mess.
Nope. She wasn’t done. Fiona threw up again.
With the crown prince of all dragons standing next to her. She was making the air he was breathing smell like warm, acidic, half-digested food. Somehow, he was still touching her gross, sweaty body.
“Call for a medic! I want a poison expert in here!”
“She hasn’t been poisoned,” Eric said, going to open the windows to get in some fresh air, while directing another guard to grab a cleanup bucket and mop.
“I’m just a little hot,” Fiona managed to tell him, catching her breath.
Inferno growled and looked at the trainer. “I thought you knew what you were doing. She’s a human, she’s not supposed to be overworked.”
“I wasn’t informed that she would have worked out before seeing me.”
“She didn’t—” Fiona hushed him with a hand on his arm, and his eyes turned wide in recognition. Sex might not be a traditional workout, but it surely had gotten both their heart rates up for a good amount of time.
“I just want to get cleaned up,” she told him.
Inferno rubbed her back. If he was at all grossed out by the sweat and vomit, he didn’t show it. “We’ll get you cleaned up.”
“You called for a medic, your highness?” A guard appeared with a first aid kit.
“Yeah,” he stood up and let the medic come close to examine her “She might just need some fluid and electrolytes, a little rest maybe.”
* * *
If Inferno had his way, he would have carried Fiona back to his room and run the bath for her. Instead, he let her walk, as she requested, and gave her the space she needed to clean up. Sshe’d downed a powerdrink and taken a few extras with her into the bathroom while she showered.
He used the time waiting for her to order food and to call around to check on the investigations into the attack, the green goo, and the intruder. He kept his fury controlled though, not wanting to storm off every time he thought about the danger she could be in, but he wanted to get over to the gun range soon. Knowing his mate was armed and knew how to use the weapon would make him feel a bit more at ease.
When Fiona finally joined him at his small table in the sitting room, the taster had already done his job and left them to their unpoisoned meal.
“You look happy,” he commented.
“Leanne left me a large assortment of clothes to choose from. It’s amazing how good it feels to have even that much control of your life, after, well, all this,” Fiona motioned her arm around the room.
Inferno nodded. “Sit, eat.” The words were no sooner out of his mouth than she was devouring the little sandwiches and cut-up veggies.
“Did you figure anything out about who was in the room last night?” She didn’t look up at him when she asked it.
“Not yet, but I will.”
“Is that you really being confident? Or are you trying not to freak me out?”
“To be honest, it’s a little of both.”
“Oh.”
“What’s the smile for?”
She shrugged. “You know, for a guy who kidnapped me, you can be pretty sweet when you want to be.”
“Hmm, are we still saying that I kidnapped you? I did have good intentions, if you remember.”
“Yeah, you’re right. If you’re not going to laugh at me for being disgusting and puking twice in the few days that you’ve known me, then I should stop calling you a kidnapper. If someone’s trying to kill me, it seems like the better choice to be whisked away by dragon royalty.”
Inferno actually sighed, feeling a weight removed from his shoulders. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.”
“I was a little harsh on you, wasn’t I?”
“Just a touch, but I may have earned it.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been pretty good to me, too.” The sex was definitely nice. He had to push the memories of it out of his head before his body warmed up too much.
“Hardly. Nothing but bad luck has been happening since you arrived, and the one who entered your room last night—” Inferno looked away from her, feeling his neck and jaw tightening as he tried to suck those words back. Too late. They were out in the open now.
“I can handle being reminded of it. I can handle talking about it. You don’t have to pretend it didn’t happen, or shield me from what’s being done about it.” Though even as she said those words, she shivered.
“Fiona, I spoke to my brother about you.”
She tensed. “You’re not, uh, planning on handing me over to him as part of some weird trade, are you?”
“What? No!” Inferno realized there was a lot she still needed to learn about dragons if that was what she thought of them.
“Okay, so what were you talking to him about?”
“Were you serious just now? You thought I would want to hand you over to my brother when you’re my mate?”
“Well, I don’t know how this mating thing works. I’ve never been mated before.”
“Because there’s not going to be anyone else.” Inferno wanted to keep going, but stopped himself from saying anything else; he didn’t want to push his luck.
“Okay, so what did you want to talk about? What did you say to your brother?” She’d stopped eating and turned her full attention on him.
He didn’t have a chance to answer, however, because a feminine-sounding shriek interrupted their conversation.
Inferno immediately got to his feet and headed to the front door to his apartment. “What the hell?” He knew that the noise had come from Charrling, and it sounded again, even louder, once he opened his door. He looked to the guards. Eric was speaking into his coms device, but had no answer for him.
Inferno started to run.
19
Fiona followed Inferno until she was stopped by a guard as she turned down, what she assumed was, Charrling’s apartment wing. “Let me pass. I’m following Inferno.”
“Can’t do that. Princess Charrling’s orders are that she doesn’t want you around her or her daughter’s apartments.”
Fiona took a step back. She supposed she should respect their wishes, but she was still alarmed by the screams they’d heard. “I should be with my future husband and his family if there is something going on.”
“Everything is fine. We just got word.”
That calmed her down a little. “Okay, great, so what’s going on?” If she couldn’t see it for herself, then one of these guys needed to tell her.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about, just some family trouble.”
That was definitely not as specific as Fiona had been hoping for. She opened her mouth to get more information, but then another heavy, tonsil-smacking shriek pulsed through the halls as if a banshee had been released.
Fiona got the chance to see for herself what was up when, from around the corner, Inferno appeared again. Joseph, Charrling’s main bodyguard, was also there, and both men held their arms raised up while Charrling stormed towards them in a yellow sparkling gown so fine she could have been getting ready to attend a grand wedding. She swatted at them with what looked to be a rolled up magazine, as though punishing dogs.
“Stay away from me the both of you!” she shrieked, swinging heavily at both men, who were taller and broader, and clearly allowing her to strike at them so as to not hurt her.
Fiona noted how uncomfortable all the guards looked. Her own, Inferno’s, and even Charrling’s all seemed like they didn’t know what to do with the scene. They were torn between protecting their Crown Prince, and letting one of the ladies of the house do…whatever it was she was doing.
Inferno kept his hands raised as he was
pelted again and again with the paper, though he sounded angrier by the minute. “Charrling, just calm down!”
“Don’t you tell me to be calm! And you! You filthy creep!” She turned her wrath to Joseph, her arm flying up and down as she struck again and again with the paper. If she flapped any harder, she would fly.
“Holy shit, what’s going on?”
Fiona turned. Flare and Blaze appeared, and their eyes bulged at the scene as Charrling hit and cursed at Joseph, as if he was a dog who had just pissed on her fifty-thousand-dollar rug instead of the man in charge of her safety.
Or her lover.
“Fiona?” Flare asked.
Fiona briefly looked to the other woman, and then to Charrling. Her perfectly styled hair was beginning to fall, strands coming loose from the heavy layer of hairspray that had kept it done up and braided. It also looked as if there had been tiny flowers in her hair at one point. Either that or she’d crashed into a flower vase and some of those petals stuck in her hair were just collateral damage.
Fiona shook her head. “I have no idea what’s going on.”
As though signaled by some unseen force, Charrling suddenly stopped striking at Joseph. Not that she’d been doing much damage anyway, but it was beyond strange to see her spine stiffen, and then she suddenly turned quiet. Charrling snapped her head to the side, her blue eyes cold enough to steam the air around her as she pointed her sharp, manicured finger at Fiona and marched forward. “You!”
Fiona stumbled back, her gaze honing in like a laser onto the way Charrling’s mean fingernails turned into actual claws. The weird part was how they kept their coloring, and the little jewels that had been glued on didn’t fall off. The prettiest deadly set of claws that were about to sink into her throat.
The many guards already around her stepped forward, creating an instant wall between Fiona and Charrling, who shrieked. The guards didn’t touch her, but stood shoulder to shoulder as if they were locked into place. Charrling shrieked at them, punching their chests and slapping a few of them in the face.
