by Meagan Hurst
She moved without speed, but with so much grace it took no time at all for her to cross the distance between her and the Dragon. She left her cloak behind on the chair, and when her motion stopped at long last she stood less than a foot from the Dragon. Nivaradros seemed indecisive for a mere second, but when he held out his hand for Zimliya to grasp, she made his pause seem irrelevant. She stared at his offered hand.
Careful, Child, you are both so uncertain here. What will you do now? he wondered as he watched, forgotten by the two others in the room. Trust him, Zimliya. He does not seek to harm you.
Whether or not she heard his words, Zimliya did finally move, but it wasn’t simply to take Nivaradros’s hand. With a soft cry of delight—a sound he had never heard her make before—Zimliya hugged the Dragon, and the Mithane felt his mouth open about an inch in wonder. He couldn’t remember her ever initiating an embrace before.
Hells, the one time he had attempted to hold her in this manner she had not only nearly stabbed him, but she had been so stiff he had thought a wall would be more forgiving. Holding his breath at the sight of Nivaradros’s surprise, he silently hoped the Dragon would not do something that startled Zimliya into harming him now. Not when she was trying so hard to offer him something more.
The Dragon’s arms moved slowly to hold the woman who had just moved willingly to his side and then into his arms. Nivaradros looked over her shoulder to meet his eyes with incredulity that spoke volumes about how relieved the Dragon was that he hadn’t done something wrong—yet. Jealousy touched the Mithane briefly, because he knew if he had tried to simply touch Zimliya even now she would react violently, despite what she accepted and offered the Dragon. Her Tenian scars still remained and even though she offered Nivaradros something now, he and the others still needed to stand back and let her decide when she would come to them.
He was not yet a friend—he might never be—but he knew, watching her stay in Nivaradros’s hold, that the fourth vision he had given up on had won in the end, with small twists. Nivaradros had what he had been waiting for all this time, and the Mithane was curious to see what he did now that he knew just how much the rules had changed.
Welcome home, Zimliya. You have no idea how much you were missed.
He refused to let them leave for some time. Zimliya was still uneasy to have returned to her world, and Nivaradros was clearly struggling to figure out how to handle her. When the embrace ended—and it took some time—Zimliya returned to her chair and Nivaradros stood at her left shoulder. His eyes, the Mithane noted in amazement, were a deep green he had never seen in the Dragon before. It made him once again question Nivaradros’s motives, but not in a negative manner.
Nivaradros fully intended to pursue Zimliya’s heart; he was certain of it now after watching Nivaradros with Zimliya once more. He also discovered he was not at all dismayed over the concept. If Nivaradros was after Zimliya’s heart, he doubted it was for a long game. No, Dragons normally did not get involved in trivial games of that matter. If Nivaradros sought Zimliya’s affection it would be because he wanted it, which was something he would have thought the Dragon was incapable of seeking.
It also revealed the Dragon had a weakness. Not one he would exploit, but one that could be used against Nivaradros if it came to light. Interracial relations were also still frowned upon heavily by all races—except the Rangers—and the Dragons were extremely verbal in their disgust over such things. If, in fact, he was right about this, Nivaradros was placing himself—and Zimliya—in harm’s way. It explained much about the Dragon’s reluctance to reveal this motive to him, but it also explained why Nivaradros was being so cautious around Zimliya. If she figured it out—managed not to panic—and told the wrong people, they would both be in danger.
“Nivaradros, perhaps we should consider relocating your quarters,” he said abruptly, to change his suddenly dark thoughts.
The Dragon’s eyes narrowed slightly. “As they’re in a mostly unused part of Arriandie, I am not certain I agree,” was the polite reply.
“People are going to be curious about Z’s return, and they will want to see her.”
“Which makes where I am an even better place for her to stay,” Nivaradros countered. “If,” he added quickly, “that is acceptable to you?”
“I can have my own rooms you know,” Z told him sourly.
“I have many rooms, so yes, you would be correct in your assumptions. I would, however, like you to stay where I am.”
“I do not need a watcher!”
Nivaradros stiffened slightly in response to Zimliya’s anger, and the pleading look the Dragon sent his way caused the Mithane to sigh. He was definitely too willing to assist the Dragon.
“No,” he agreed pleasantly. “You do not. Nivaradros, however, is correct in the fact that the wing I assigned him is in an ideal location for you. You generally like space following your return to our lands. Am I to assume by your words that this is no longer the case?”
She glowered at him, but she didn’t reply. The uncertainty he had seen earlier had returned, and she sent a glance towards the Dragon standing over her shoulder. He was skeptical even friendship would be easy for these two beings to achieve, but it was intriguing to watch.
“Fine,” she said glumly. “I will consider it.”
At the moment that was likely all she would agree to. He glanced at Nivaradros and saw the Dragon relax slightly. Evidently Nivaradros was afraid to get into too many verbal battles with Zimliya. Good, it was nice to see him apprehensive about something.
“That sounds reasonable,” he replied before Nivaradros could. “Now if you two don’t mind, I should probably get back to some of my responsibilities. Try not to upset too many people when the argument breaks out,” he added with a small smile.
“We do not always argue,” Z remarked with a raised brow.
“No,” he agreed evenly. “But as you’ve been missing for eight months, I can only assume you will start one with Nivaradros shortly. I’d rather not be involved. Or have to deal with various parties running frantically to this room to inform me the two of you are trying to kill each other.”
“I am not going to harm her,” Nivaradros declared sharply.
“Nivaradros, you’re the Warlord. When you start yelling people start panicking. I don’t want to deal with it tonight.”
Chapter 1
Z watched Nivaradros out of the corner of her eye as they left the Mithane’s study at long last. The Dragon was acting annoyingly smug, but she expected him to be. He was, after all, one of the first to learn of her return. Torn between irritation and amusement, Z concentrated on everything but Nivaradros as they walked one of the many halls in Arriandie. Silence was their chosen currency as they walked, but once she realized she had no idea where they were going, she turned to face him.
“Did you have a destination in mind, or are we going to be walking the halls through the night?” she wanted to know.
She was determinedly ignoring the walls and their chosen display, but it took effort. It was an old, old battle, but it had taken place in Tenia and Z really didn’t want to think about the kingdom she had destroyed. She could dimly recall the pain she had endured while those people had died, but a memory of the pain the heirs had suffered also surfaced, and she intended to avoid the memory of the price they had paid to survive. She was of the same mind when it came to Nivaradros’s horrible injuries that had brought him to the brink of death—forgetting them, if she ever could, was preferred.
“I thought we would return to my quarters,” Nivaradros replied with care. “Come,” he added as he examined her attentively. “It is evident you haven’t been sleeping, and I will keep watch.”
His words reminded her of Crilyne, and she froze as he began to walk again.
“Now what?” he demanded when he noticed her stiffness.
“Have you spoken to the Shades at all?” she inquired quietly.
A snort was his first response. “They are not my favorite co
mpanions, and no, I have not spoken to the one particular Shade. I haven’t forgiven him for everything he did to you. Stay away from him!”
And he was back to possessive. “You don’t get to dictate who I do and do not get to see, Nivaradros. Crilyne and I understand each other quite well. I don’t blame him for any of his choices. You are welcome to hate him for all I care, but I am not going to ignore him because you demand it of me. You do not have the right to stipulate who my companions get to be.”
To her amazement, a small smile touched the Dragon’s face as he approached her. She held her ground only after she remembered to do so. When he reached her side, Nivaradros gently touched her cheek with his hand—she flinched, having expected a slap—before his smile deepened with amusement.
“Glad to see you haven’t lost your edge. As you say then. I will attempt not to influence your choice in associates. I will, however, challenge them if they endanger you. That is my compromise.”
Since the word ‘compromise’ was new to the Dragon—and unknown to most of his race—Z decided to accept what was offered. Her silence was enough of an answer, thankfully, and when Nivaradros turned to begin walking again Z fell in step beside him. They walked in a careless manner for a good twenty minutes before a being turned the corner they were just approaching at a sprint and tackled her. If Nivaradros hadn’t been there to step in things would have ended with a lot of bloodshed.
Her mind knew the figure was Shevieck before he made contact, but her body responded as though he was a threat. Daggers were drawn and in motion before she registered she had pulled them, and the only reason the Mithani didn’t end up with two daggers in his chest was because Nivaradros yanked her back and behind him before the steel made contact with Alantaion skin.
Hidden behind the Dragon’s broad outline, Z exhaled shakily and absently wondered—of all things—if that whole event could have been captured in an image. She had a feeling everything had happened too fast for it to be caught by even immortal eyes. She could hear Nivaradros’s voice raised in anger at the young immortal Mithani and she forced her mind to register his words. She checked for death threats out of habit.
“Damned idiot!” Nivaradros snarled at the Mithani as he smacked the back of Shevieck’s head. “She’s never been one for contact, and she’s been magic-knows-where for eight months, and your idea of a ‘hello’ is to nearly get her to kill you?! Was your goal to make her feel guilty after she stabbed you? Are you honestly that stupid?!”
“I simply wanted to welcome her back,” Shevieck told the Dragon sullenly. “She’s been gone for some time now, Dragon. Are you going to restrict who gets to see her?”
“Only if they plan to do something as ridiculous as you just did,” Nivaradros muttered darkly. “I don’t want her feeling mortified because she stabbed someone who was imprudent enough to hug her when they damn well know better.”
Z was with Nivaradros on this one. Heart hammering with adrenaline from her near attack on the Mithani, she was more than content to let the Dragon explain things to Shevieck this time around. She needed the space right now. Especially since she had been torn about her return. Being around Nivaradros and the Mithane she could handle, but she wasn’t up for dealing with anyone else, and Shevieck was always trying, this instance being a case-in-point.
I must be tired, she thought bitterly.
Closing her eyes again, she listened as the Dragon finally managed to either convince or threaten the Mithani away. A small smile touched her lips as she released some of her pent-up tension. Opening her eyes once Shevieck fled, she found the Dragon was watching her with open concern.
“I hope that wasn’t too presumptuous of me,” he commented as he watched her with light green eyes. Eyes that told her he was either slightly upset or worried, but surprisingly not angry.
“It was just what I needed. I forgot how brazen Shevieck is at times,” she admitted. “I recalled him being a pain. I remembered all of his stupid risks and mistakes that nearly got everyone with him killed. Heck, I even recollected his lack of knowledge on subjects he should have learned as an adolescent and yet managed not to—and with his many teachers that is impressive. But this? It didn’t even occur to me to expect it, and eight months ago I would have.” Her tone was vicious; she was furious at herself.
Nivaradros had clearly been studying humans during his time protecting Shevieck. “It is not your fault,” he told her coldly as he went from protective and calm to defensive and angry. “Do I have to explain it with small, inferior, human words so you understand?” he demanded harshly.
He could have slapped her with less effect. “No,” she responded icily. “My tiny, human brain can handle slightly bigger words than that.”
To her surprise, her words or her expression disarmed the Dragon’s anger. It also disarmed hers as well. She didn’t know how to handle him now. She was off balance, and he was different from how she remembered. They stayed where they were in silence without moving even their eyes. She had perfected this game at a young age, and the immortals were born to it. Nivaradros surprised her again by dropping the game first.
“It seems as if I have erred again,” he said shortly, breaking the chill with a tone that told her he wasn’t sure how to proceed. Exhaling with a small ribbon of fire attached to the end, Nivaradros watched her closely. “You’ve changed,” he told her finally. She gave him a tired nod of acceptance, and his frown deepened. “I’m not sure I like it,” he added curtly.
“I—” she began to say, but the Dragon cut her off sharply.
“I will adjust to it,” he informed her stiffly. “Don’t try to change back or to someone else.” He closed the distance between them and held up a hand slowly towards her face.
She turned her head slightly to the side and closed her eyes, as if she once again thought he would strike her. Since her eyes were closed, she sensed his aversion to her response even before he hissed out of frustration. He didn’t, to her surprise, touch her. Instead he waited until she opened her eyes again. His hand hadn’t moved a hair’s breadth from where she had last seen it. Worried mixed green eyes watched her and she managed to shake her head slightly in response to his unvoiced question.
“So you can now initiate contact, but not accept it without having started it,” the Dragon mused thoughtfully. “It is a wing stroke in the right direction I suppose.” He was unhappy, but he still made no move to touch her. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he pointed out.
“Just let it lie for the night?” she pleaded quietly.
“For the night,” he agreed as he slowly lowered his hand. “Are you going to attack me if I remain in your bedroom then?”
“There is a fairly good chance of it,” Z admitted after a heavy hesitation. “I’m just — Nivaradros, I didn’t want to come back,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.
She wanted to miss his expression; she couldn’t miss his reaction. She sensed the stiffness his body adopted, and she heard the change in his breath.
“Then why did you bother coming back at all?” Nivaradros demanded frostily.
The words burned, but Z expected them. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Duty. Honor. Friendship—” Her voice trailed off on the last one. “Look, I’ll stay in a guest room—” she started to tell him.
“You are spending the night with me,” Nivaradros replied grimly. “Last time you were here for a length of time the bath water tried to drown you. I am not willing to lose you to an element of all things, especially since you only got back today. I would also like to make it to the wing before today becomes tomorrow.”
“As if time matters to you,” she shot at him coolly.
“While I have a friend who is a mortal, it does,” Nivaradros said softly, startling her.
“I told you not to get attached,” she reminded him in an equally soft tone.
“And I listened for several human years,” the Dragon replied with a smile. “But, despite my beginning opinion of you, it appeared to be
unavoidable. If it lessens your guilt—oh don’t give me that look, I can see it in your eyes—I am grateful for the challenge of putting up with you.”
“I am not sure if that is an insult or a compliment,” Z muttered.
“It is rather hard to tell with us Dragons,” Nivaradros agreed slyly.
“I’m tempted to hit you,” Z grumbled in reply as they made it without further incident to a wing on the second floor of the castle, and on the west side. “This is yours for the moment?” she asked in surprise.
“I only tolerate company when I have to,” Nivaradros explained patiently. “According to the Mithane, these are the quarters least likely to open to a hall full of Alantaions. I am enduring their existence to a point; we decided it was wisest not to push it.”
Z snorted softly and turned the handle of the doors. They swung inward as she cringed. “Oh dear,” she sighed. “Did you bankrupt the kingdom to make this room like this?” she wanted to know as she took in the finery. “I’ve never seen so much—”
“Probably because they have to de-opulence your rooms when you come to stay,” the Dragon interrupted. “And I didn’t request any of this. If I had to guess I would say this is where they stash anything they have to remove from your rooms in a hurry. Very few people ever stay on this floor.” The Dragon surveyed the room critically.
“Is this going to offend you to the point I am going to have to go all the way back up to the fourth floor, suffer through another conversation with the Mithane, and then have to accept the presence of several Alantaion servants? Just so they can attempt to remove enough of the furniture that you don’t have a minor breakdown over the fact the room has items that are designed elegantly enough that any other being would be honored to have them even on loan?”
He was going to make an issue out of it if she said yes. “Forget it!” she snapped.
“Good. The bedroom I want you to stay in is the second door on the left, use it.” His eyes narrowed. “Where are your packs?”
