The Dragon Prince's Promise (Dragongrove Book 5)

by Imogen Sera

  “Is that why you were so insistent on her taking the gloves?” he asked against her cheek.

  She laughed. “I embroidered it on the shawl,” she said. “I put the gloves on her because you wanted me to keep them, and I was mad at you.”

  He leaned forward to cover her on the bed, and pressed a kiss to the base of her throat. “You’re stubborn,” he said. “And you’re brilliant, and you’re lovely.”

  She shut her eyes as he kissed down the length of her throat and told her all of the things that she was. Later, he kissed down the length of her body and told her all of the things that he would do to her.

  Twenty-three

  Tate insisted on Elsie not being out of his sight, not after Vodan had just strolled into the cave, and she found it hard to argue with. It wasn’t comfortable, feeling like she had a target on her back, but Tate’s constant touch and constant presence helped.

  He even pulled her down the passageway with him, down and down and down until they’d come to an eerily lit cavern. He’d kissed her head and apologized for the boredom, and then sat down, right in the middle of the ground, and she’d had a hard time occupying her thoughts for the hour or so that he needed.

  She wished, not for the first time, that she could read the language in which the many books in the cabin were written. The language of magi, some strange, ancient thing, dead except to those scholars who insisted on exclusively using it to write. It would help her feel useful if she could comb through them for any information, any hint of a way out of the situation. Tate had tried to teach her the alphabet for it, at least, but it would be a very long time before she’d be able to learn anything from the books.

  She wondered about that as she ate her dinner, pressed against his side, tucked under his arm. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t possibly stop touching him, and it pleased her that he seemed to feel the same.

  A lone dragon circled above, dark against the dusky sky. Tate’s attention was there; his arm had gone stiff around her and his head was tilted back to watch.

  “Is someone not eating?” she asked quietly. It would be unusual, but not altogether unheard of.

  He shook his head after a minute. “It’s not a member of the tribe,” he said.

  Her eyes widened as she focused upward, too. She had no idea how he could tell, because being able to tell any of them apart was impossible. She trusted his judgment, though.

  “Are we safe?” she asked. “Should we go inside?”

  He turned a faint smile toward her.

  “It’s Tarquin,” he said.

  •••••

  Elsie didn’t quite believe Tate until Tarquin had landed, and had been thoroughly surprised when Mira—who’d always seemed to tolerate Elsie with tight-lipped apathy—had gracefully climbed off his back, threw her arms around Elsie, and told her how much she’d been missed.

  Elsie wasn’t sure how Tate had greeted his brother after their long separation; she’d been too busy being uncomfortably embraced. Tate bent to kiss her head, though, and murmured that he needed to show something to Tarquin, and then the two of them disappeared up the path to the cabin.

  “So mysterious,” Mira muttered after them, rolling her eyes. She turned her attention to Elsie. “Show me around?”

  Elsie laughed out loud at that. “There’s not much to see,” she said, but turned and guided her toward the cave.

  “Ingrid’s pissed,” Mira said, as they walked. “You both disappeared and suddenly Juliette came back, half dead? She’s out for blood.”

  “Is Juliette alright?” Elsie asked quickly.

  Mira looked at her oddly. “She’s fine now, the king healed her. But she was telling some story that made no sense, and they knew right away that it wasn’t true. And then some servant found your message and they sent us back out. There are a lot of people looking, Elsie.”

  Elsie fingered her strand of hair. “But the queen’s mad?”

  “Furious,” confirmed Mira.

  Elsie sighed and plopped down on the makeshift bed.

  “So you...live here?” asked Mira, leaning to examine the stack of books.

  Elsie rolled her eyes and spread her hands wide. “Welcome to my cave.”

  “Are you coming home?” Mira asked, lifting the top on off the stack and running her fingers over the front of it.

  “I want to,” she said. “I’ve been trying to, but things are complicated right now. And...I don’t want to leave without Tate.”

  “He’s your mate?” Mira asked.

  Elsie nodded.

  “Well that’s exciting,” Mira said flatly, and then made a face at herself.

  “I don’t know why I said it like that. It really is. I’m happy for you.”

  Elsie raised her eyebrows and smiled faintly. She was rarely comfortable with Mira around, and even less so in this situation. Mira seemed to have chosen Tarquin for herself as soon as she’d arrived at the palace, not seeming to care that his mate had been dead for years. It didn’t help that they were constantly at each others’ throats over it. Elsie wanted nothing less than to discuss the concept of mates with her.

  Mira terrified her, she finally admitted to herself. Elsie constantly wondered where she might fit in the world, where there might be just enough space for her to slip in, unnoticed; Mira seemed determined to carve a place out for herself.

  Elsie fingered her strand of hair in the awkward silence. Apparently her manners were well out of practice. “How have you been doing?” she said, finally.

  Mira smiled at that, an odd kind of smile that Elsie had never seen on her before. “Oh,” she said, “well, we got married.”

  •••••

  “What are you doing here?” Tate asked, pushing the door shut behind him.

  Tarquin regarded him with dry amusement. “Rescuing the queen’s lady-in-waiting. What are you doing here?”

  Tate sighed and launched into his second explanation that week.

  “You got tangled up with a necromancer?” Tarquin asked. “That was stupid.”

  Tate narrowed his eyes at his youngest brother. “I’m aware,” he said. “I’ve had time to contemplate that over the last decade.”

  Tarquin shrugged and wandered across to the bookshelf. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m working on something. Do you know where Demetri is?”

  Tarquin shook his head.

  Tate sighed heavily. “I don’t know, then. I’ve been trying to decipher this—” he tossed his book onto the bed “—and I believe that if the bargain is broken, Demetri will suffer whatever killed him in the first place.”

  “Which is what we want to avoid.”

  “We don’t want him to die again, obviously,” said Tate, “but if we know how he died the first time, and it wasn’t something instantaneous, then there’s a chance that a healer could save him, if they were ready for it.”

  Tarquin paused his perusal of the bookshelf and turned to look at him. “Interesting. Are you sure that’s how it works?”

  “Not at all. Elsie came up with it, and it’s all we have, but if we don’t even know how to find Demetri, then—”

  “I didn’t say we don’t know how to find him,” Tarquin interrupted. “I said I don’t know where he is. I haven’t looked very hard; I’ve been looking for you.”

  Tate pushed his hair back from his face. “It’s still nothing to plan on. We don’t know how he died, we don’t even know if he can be saved a second time.”

  “I know how he died,” Tarquin said.

  Tate raised his eyebrows.

  “I met someone in Amling,” Tarquin continued, “and he had an interesting story to tell.”

  •••••

  “Ingrid will be angry when I show up empty-handed.”

  “You won’t,” said Tate, running his hands down his face. “You have to take her with you.”

  Tarquin frowned. “And risk Demetri’s life?”

  “I suppose,” Tate said. “I don’t
think Vodan would do it, not for that. It’s a risk I’ll have to take, because she can’t stay here. She’s in danger.”

  “Why is that?”

  “She’s...important to me. He at least suspects that. If things fall through with Demetri—if I’m not behaving as well as he’d like—I have no doubt that she’ll be the next person he uses as a bargaining chip.”

  “Taking her will set everything in motion.”

  “Yes,” agreed Tate.

  Tarquin paused for a minute. “Give me four days,” he said. “I need to return to the palace for help locating Demetri. I’d like to try to have him home, at least, before we piss off a necromancer who has his life in his hands. I’ll return as soon as I can for Elsie.”

  “What do I do in the meantime, besides wait for him to murder my mate?” Tate sighed.

  “Avoid letting that happen, I suppose.”

  Tate nodded. “Four days,” he said. “I don’t want to keep her here longer.”

  “I’ll work as fast as I can,” said Tarquin.

  “Who will you go to?” Tate asked.

  “Cyrus has proven helpful lately. He helped us find you.”

  “Will Cyrus be quick enough? I know he likes to take his time.”

  Tarquin shrugged. “He’s very fond of my wife.”

  Twenty-four

  Elsie lay across their makeshift bed as Tate’s lips drifted across her chest, from collarbone to collarbone. Mira and Tarquin hadn’t stayed longer than a few hours, and it was strange to her how disappointed she was by that. She had felt, so briefly, as if she’d rejoined the world. She wanted to be a part of the world again, and she wanted Tate to be there with her when she was.

  He’d stoked up the fire, and stripped her nightgown from her, and pressed his lips softly to her mouth and her chin and her neck.

  There was none of the usual urgency, none of the usual passion; just something sweet and lovely, something that terrified her, in light of the events of the day.

  “Why does this feel like goodbye?” she asked quietly, threading her hands through his hair.

  “How do you always know everything?” he asked, pressing his mouth against her navel, and then up, up through the valley between her breasts, up to kiss along her throat, up to kiss her chin and mouth and nose and forehead.

  “I don’t want to go,” she said, and turned to her side to face him.

  “I don’t want you to, either,” he said.

  “Good, because I’m not,” she said flatly.

  “It’s not safe for you here, El,” he murmured. “Of course I want you to stay with me, but I won’t put your life in danger.”

  “That’s not fair,” she said, and sat up to look at him. “You’re not safe here, either. I’m not leaving you.”

  “It’s not for long. You’ll leave with Tarquin, I’ll wait for word that Demetri’s found, and as soon as I hear, I’ll be away from here.”

  She sighed heavily. “Why can’t I just stay with you for that?”

  He sat up, too, and leaned to kiss her shoulder. “Because I don’t know what Vodan knows, my love. If he thinks we’re planning something, or gets an inkling of what we’re attempting...” he trailed off. “You have to be safe, El.”

  Elsie grimaced and leaned against him. “This is stupid,” she said. “This is the worst plan of all.”

  “Being away from you is stupid,” he agreed. “Second worst, though. The worst plan involves your life bring at risk.”

  “I don’t want to leave you,” Elsie sighed, but nodded. “When am I going?”

  “Tarquin will take you home,” he said. “He has four days.”

  She paused and looked around. “When will you be back, then?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “A few days after that. I have to make sure that things are finished here.”

  “I don’t want to leave you,” she said again. “What if things go wrong here? What if he...kills you, or something? What would I do without you?”

  He made a face at that. “What would I do without you?” he murmured. “You’re in far more danger here than I am, El. Once Tarquin has Demetri, Vodan has nothing over me. I’ll be fine, but I can’t stop worrying for you.”

  “I don’t like this,” she said, and pressed her cheek to his shoulder.

  •••••

  Elsie laid awake long after Tate had fallen asleep, and she clung to him and clasped his hand and kissed his neck in the dark. She didn’t want to leave him—the thought made her a little sick. Being near him was natural; being near him was right, and now that she had him, separating made something deep in her revolt.

  She adored him. She needed him, she needed everything about him. It had been building in her since she’d kissed him in the water—no, since he’d touched her neck next to the fire. Maybe, she thought, maybe it had been growing since the very beginning, since he’d found her in the wind and brought her to shelter.

  It was a strange thing to be a mate—to be someone’s intended, to have been selected by fate as someone’s best possible partner. It wasn’t a future she’d ever envisioned for herself, even as she watched the people around her pair off. Elsie had never been one to be beloved, she’d never been chosen for anything. She was happy to just feel as if her life was stable, to feel as if she had a real home that she’d earned, that she wouldn’t be cast out of.

  She didn’t know anything anymore. She wouldn’t trade this thing with Tate for anything, but...she didn’t know what a future with him meant for her. She didn’t know if he’d even be allowed back at the palace, after his part in the women’s abduction and Mira’s assertion that the queen was so angry. She’d follow him, of course, if he wasn’t. Still, though—the not knowing was painful to her, and the many possibilities wouldn’t quiet in her mind.

  She fell asleep like that, her mind racing, her heart troubled. Perhaps that was why she dreamed, why she had a nightmare again, after going so long without. Her dream was as it had ever been—the earth splitting, the creatures pouring out until it was covered. She wasn’t watching it, though, this time, but within it, one with it, and she’d fled into the stupid cave to escape it. She’d fled all the way down the passageway, all the way into the cavern, and curled up against the wall to avoid the creatures.

  That was how she awoke. Cold, against the wall, down in the cavern. It took her a moment to understand where she was, what had brought her there. It was strange; she’d never walked in her sleep as far as she knew, but...how else could she have gotten down there?

  The strange whispers she’d heard that first day seemed to surround her, and she stood as quickly as she could and crossed the room to the passageway. They grew louder, there.

  She looked out into the passageway warily, and staring back at her was Vodan.

  Twenty-five

  Tate finally found them. She didn’t know if he’d been sleeping or searching, but his eyes were wide and frantic when he finally charged into the cavern and saw them.

  Vodan held her to him, a ridiculous little dagger in his hand. Surrounding them were beings that Elsie didn’t particularly want to consider—animated, moving and following instructions, but certainly not alive. And they were whispering.

  “It was very kind of you to finally join us,” said Vodan.

  “Stop this,” said Tate, his voice thick. He watched Elsie as he spoke, his expression strange. He seemed to be trying to tell her...something.

  “Your brother was here,” said Vodan. “You seem to need to be reminded exactly who is in charge.”

  Tate looked at Elsie one more time, and she saw his shoulders move with a deep breath. “He found us,” he shrugged. “You’re the one who made her stay. Of course they would look for her.” He had changed in that moment. He was...relaxed.

  Elsie shuddered as he spoke, her gaze swinging wildly around her. There was little life in the room, but so many wretched creatures.

  Vodan stood behind her with the dagger pressed under her chin. “It would be so easy,”
he said. “It would take no effort at all to end her. How long would you promise me to raise her then, hmm? You seem willing to sacrifice your twin, but I don’t think you would so willingly sacrifice your mate.”

  Elsie studied Tate desperately. She didn’t want to die, of course she didn’t want to die, but...Tate didn’t deserve to continually have years torn from his life. They were powerless now, powerless against the despicable man who held all of the cards.

  Tate’s eyes were wide for a minute, his mouth open, but then a mask of indifference covered his face. “My mate?” he said. “Very clever of you, Vodan, to come spying on me, but she’s not my mate.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” the mage said, and pressed the dagger in more until Elsie could feel a drop of liquid roll down her neck. “I know about the dreams. I know about everything.”

  Tate met Elsie’s gaze briefly, and then fixed on Vodan again. “I thought that you were smarter than that. Do you really think that I would possibly keep my mate within your reach? I sent her home over a month ago, with your blessing.”

  Vodan stilled behind her, the blade against her throat slipped slightly and was no longer touching her. Still, she felt as if she could not breathe. It was a lie, she thought; it had to be. He had dreamed of her. And yet...he hadn’t said it was her. The description had matched Juliette so well that Orin and his brother hadn’t even been able to tell. She thought of the way that he’d argued so passionately and easily with Juliette, and of the way that he’d cradled her so carefully to him as he’d carried her to the cabin. She thought of the way that he’d been so confident that he would send Juliette home, and how he’d scarcely even argued to send Elsie home.

  Her stomach had dropped. She should be concerned about other things right then, so many other things, but the way that he wouldn’t meet her gaze, the way that he didn’t seem concerned about the blade at her throat...

  Elsie was nothing. Elsie was a convenient way to keep danger directed away from Juliette.