by Sarah Hawke
“Such a noble sentiment,” Serrane muttered.
“I’m telling you the truth, whether you wish to believe me or not,” Solemi said. “If it will set your mind at ease, you should know that I plan on leaving Highwind altogether—and soon.”
Serrane’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You built your own little empire beneath the streets…and now you’re just going to walk away?”
“I liberated my fellow slaves in Vel’shannar, and I have done my best to secure them a prosperous future.” Solemi shrugged. “The Wyrm Lord made it clear that my lingering presence will only create conflict, and I do not wish to make the coming reconstruction any more difficult. You will have your work cut out for you in the months ahead.”
“I’m focused on surviving the next few days,” Serrane said, still searching the other woman’s face for any signs of duplicity. But unsurprisingly, Solemi’s expression revealed nothing about her actual plans or motivations. The veil of a master illusionist wasn’t so easily lifted.
“My soldiers will do everything in their power to aid you,” Solemi said. “And I’ve no doubt that you will do everything in yours to ensure that their sacrifices are properly rewarded. Highwind cannot afford to repeat the mistakes of the Winter War.”
The half-elf stared hard into Serrane’s eyes for several long moments before a pleasant smile returned to her lips. “I will order the drow commander to meet you in the Duskwatch Lodge in a few hours,” Solemi said. “And I will inform him that you will be assigning one of your rangers to each of his squads.”
“Good,” Serrane said as she finally leaned upright again. The prospect of openly working with any drow still raised her hackles, but this wasn’t the time to allow old prejudices to interfere with her judgment. If the drow wanted to roam the city putting out fires that no one else could…well, so be it. Highwind was going to need all the help it could get.
“It was an honor working with you, General,” Solemi said, curtseying. “I only wish we had been able to see eye-to-eye sooner.”
Serrane snorted softly. A part of her was tempted to slap a set of manacles onto the half-elf and lock her in the Gray Citadel. To this day, no one knew the full extent of the crimes she had committed over the past few years. Smuggling in dangerous magical artifacts from across Torsia was a trifle compared to the accusations that the Black Mistress had somehow orchestrated the deaths of multiple Highwind Councilors, not to mention her short-lived takeover of the whole bloody city.
Justice was a laudable goal, but it meant nothing without the power to enforce it. So long as the city needed Darkwind’s army to survive, Solemi was untouchable. And that was the real reason she was about to leave everything behind.
“Namaarie mellonamin,” Solemi said with another curtsey. “Tenna lye ento omenta.”
She stepped back into the shadows of the storage room and vanished as if she had never been there at all. Serrane glared down at the map of the city on the table, her jaw clenched and her fingers scratching into the wood.
“Le’thos,” she hissed. She wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of meeting with Solemi’s drow henchmen, either, but at least Valuri could help with that. The Huntress’s brutal honesty and wry humor would be very welcome right now…as would her strong hands and soft lips.
And then there’s Julian. I’m still not sure if I want to tell him the big news before the battle or not. I don’t want him to treat me any differently or take any stupid risks on my behalf. Then again, we could both use a few moments of joy before we’re back to fighting for our lives. I’ve barely even seen him since he returned to the city…
“That’s going to change tonight,” Serrane promised herself. It had been far, far too long since she had felt his strong arms around her waist…or holding her down while his manhood plunged inside her. She had a feeling that her good news would inspire him to take her harder than ever, and she was tempted to head straight for the Silver Fist temple and make the drow wait.
But her duties had to come first—Highwind had to come first. The people of this city had entrusted her to protect them, and she had no intention of letting them down now.
Especially now that I’m pregnant.
Grinning, Serrane reflexively touched her flat stomach, bared proudly by her cropped leather breastplate. The mere thought of swelling with Julian’s child made her giddy, and she could only hope that he would feel the same way when she told him—which she would tonight, she decided. Neither of them had ever needed an excuse to fight for the people they cared about, but a little extra motivation couldn’t hurt. Somehow, they would figure out a way to win this war. There was simply too much at stake.
Taking one last look at the war table, Serrane spun around and strode for the door.
3
The Watcher’s Will
Despite how much Jorem had been looking forward to taking a nap after flying around the Reaches this morning—and after fucking the girls raw this afternoon—he never actually got any sleep. He simply laid there in the middle of the bed, the warm, naked bodies of Kaseya and Valuri pressed up tightly against him, and tried to figure out what in the bloody void they were going to do next.
His meeting with Solemi in a few hours weighed heavily on his mind, but there was another more pressing problem he needed to deal with first. He had almost managed to push it from his thoughts before he heard the front door open downstairs.
“We owe Selvhara more than this,” Kaseya whispered, her eyes still closed. “There must be something we can do to help her.”
Jorem let out a heavy sigh and nodded. He could hear Selvhara rustling in the kitchen with the food she had brought home from the market. He had no doubt that she would diligently prepare dinner for them without uttering a single word of complaint, just like she had the past few days. Even if he completely ignored her, she would still try to serve him to the best of her ability.
Right up until her master ordered her to destroy us.
“She has spent a dozen human lifetimes yearning to serve a Wyrm Lord,” Kaseya said, her blue eyes fluttering open. “And now that she has the chance, we have done everything in our power to push her away.”
“Gods, you two are hopeless,” Valuri grumbled into the pillow.
“I am serious.”
“You think I’m not?” The Huntress leaned up, half her black hair still matted to the side of her face. “Wolf girl isn’t really missing out on anything. She probably got off when I shoved that phallus up your ass. If anything, I did her a favor.”
“Selvhara has not attempted to harm us in any way,” Kaseya insisted. “It is not right to punish her for something she has not done.”
“You’re the one who can see the strange tethers binding her to her master,” Jorem pointed out. “Have you noticed any changes?”
The amazon looked away and shook her head. “No. They remain strong—much stronger than when I first noticed them.”
“So for all we know, he may already be exerting his influence over her.”
“Yes,” she conceded.
“Then Val is right is right to be cautious,” Jorem replied soberly. “We can’t afford to let our guard down around her.”
“I can’t believe you’re even allowing her to cook,” Valuri groused as she sat all the way up, uncaring as the sheets fell from her breasts. “You should have just let me deal with her a long time ago.”
“No one is going to hurt her,” Jorem admonished. “Kaseya is also right—none of this is Selvhara’s fault. There must some way to free her from Dathiel’s influence.”
“And what happens if she tries to kill you before we figure it out?” Valuri scoffed and rolled off the bed to retrieve her clothes. “I can only save you from yourself so many times. We need to make a decision—you need to make a decision.”
Jorem leaned up and squeezed the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t wrong. The time for procrastination was over. Gods, it had been over for several days now, he just hadn’t wanted to admit it. He really di
d like Selvhara despite her quirks and eccentricities, and not just because she was a pretty, ageless elf who was desperate to please him (though if he was being honest with himself, that certainly didn’t hurt). Despite her initial deception, she had a good heart. He only wished he knew how he could free her from Dathiel like she wanted. But in the meantime…
“I have a thought,” Jorem whispered.
“One more than usual for you,” Valuri muttered as she slipped back into her panties.
“We shouldn’t allow Selvhara to roam freely, given what she could do if Dathiel is controlling her,” Jorem went on, ignoring the jibe with practiced ease. “And there’s only one place in Highwind that could possibly contain a werewolf.”
Kaseya recoiled. “The Gray Citadel,” she breathed. “You want to lock her in that horrible prison?”
“Temporarily, for her safety and for ours. We can try to figure out a more permanent solution after the battle.”
The amazon’s face creased in clear disapproval. “I do not like this plan.”
“Look, I’m not saying I like it either, but it’s the only one I can come up with,” Jorem protested. “It will buy us some time. If she’s in there, Dathiel can’t turn her against us.”
“Nor will she be able to aid us in the battle against Marcella,” Kaseya said pointedly. “The Vorsalosian soldiers are not prepared to fight a werewolf.”
“Yeah, well, I doubt the Highwind Guard are prepared to fight with a werewolf,” Valuri pointed out as she bent to pick up her pants. “They’ll probably try and shoot her, and with good reason.”
“The point is that if Dathiel is able to control her somehow, she could do a tremendous amount of damage,” Jorem said. “We can’t afford to take that chance.”
Kaseya glanced between the two of them several times before she let out a long, resigned sigh. “Very well. It is better than some alternatives.”
“The good news is that wolf girl already considers herself your slave, so I doubt you’ll have a problem locking her up,” Valuri said.
“Unless her master does not allow it,” the amazon murmured, her eyes lost in thought as she stared up at the overhead panel of their four-poster bed.
“In that case, we still have our backup plan,” the Huntress said, picking her gauntlet off the floor and unsheathing the silver blade concealed within. “I’ll try to resist saying ‘I told you so.’”
Jorem scoffed. “You’ve literally never been able to resist saying that.”
“I didn’t promise I’d succeed,” the Huntress replied dryly. “But while we’re on the topic of annoying, treacherous women you’ve fucked, are you still planning on meeting with Solemi tonight?”
Jorem started to swing his legs off the bed but froze halfway. Gods, Solemi…
“I don’t think I have much choice,” he muttered.
“You’re a dragon—of course you have a choice,” Valuri said. “You could just burn down her brothel, preferably with her still in it.”
“We’ve had this argument ten times already,” Jorem said wearily. “We need her army to defend the city, and this was the only way to get it.”
“I don’t care how many times you tell me that. This plan is insane. Absolutely insane.” Valuri crossed her arms and glared at Kaseya. “Feel free to jump in any time, Red.”
“Jorem has made his decision,” the amazon said softly. “If he believes this is the only path forward, so be it.”
The Huntress scoffed in disgust. “How can you possibly be so calm about this? He agreed to get another woman pregnant!”
An awkward silence settled over them, and Jorem rubbed his hands over his face. This bargain sounded even more ludicrous when someone else said it aloud. Solemi had agreed to hand over her army and give up her aspirations to sit on the Council. In return, she requested a single night alone with Jorem—a night with a very singular purpose.
He had very nearly refused the offer. He had refused, actually, though she had eventually convinced him to change his mind. Even though he’d put her on the defensive in their confrontation a few days ago, this bargain was the only way to get everything he wanted. He could have killed her, sure, or threatened her into submission, but doing so would have doomed Highwind in the process. His power had grown beyond anything he could have ever expected, but even as a dragon, he couldn’t defend this city against Marcella’s fleet all by himself and guard against betrayal by a woman who brought down Vel’shannar. The city needed an army, and hers was the only option.
“After tonight, we put all of this behind us,” Jorem said, taking a deep breath and standing. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to talk her out of it.”
“That’s not going to happen and you know it,” Valuri told him sourly. “Solemi wants a dragon baby in her belly. Did you even stop to think about what that might mean in twenty years?”
“I’m worried about surviving the next two days. I’ll worry about the next two decades later.”
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, glancing back and forth between him and Kaseya. She looked as annoyed with Kaseya for not joining her side as she did with Jorem. “You two have lost your minds.”
From the moment he’d heard Solemi’s offer, Jorem had known that he would never earn Val’s approval for something like this, but he was honestly more worried about Kaseya. Her continued silence roiled his stomach. He almost wanted her to fight him on this for some strange reason. But instead she had quietly accepted his decision, and the guilt was slowly gnawing away at him.
A little guilt is a small price to pay for victory. The cold, hard reality is that this is a good deal for us and for Highwind. After today, everyone will be much better off—assuming the city survives. And if it doesn’t, well…
“There’s no point in dwelling on this when we have other problems to deal with first,” Jorem said. “Let’s go and speak with Selvhara.”
***
Selvhara felt Kaseya’s concern and anxiety several minutes before the amazon arrived in the kitchen alongside Jorem and the Senosi. The bonding collar didn’t allow the druid to actually read Kaseya’s mind, however, so she genuinely had no idea what was about to happen. All she knew was that none of them, even the Huntress, seemed particularly happy about whatever they had been discussing.
“It smells good,” Jorem said, smiling at the stew simmering in the cauldron. “General Starwind will be pleased, I’m sure.”
“I hope so,” Selvhara replied, and meant it. The One God had released her from his direct control, though she could still feel his presence in the back of her mind. She had no doubt that he would reassert himself if she tried to beg for help or spoil his plans in any way.
“We, uh…we need to talk,” Jorem said, straightening his new brown jacket. The dragon transformation had destroyed his old clothes, and General Serrane’s tailor had provided him with significantly higher quality—and far more fashionable—attire. Selvhara enjoyed how uncomfortable the finery seemed to make him most of the time. He was far more roguish than rakish, all things considered, and it was yet another thing about him she found charming.
“Of course, my lord,” the druid said, turning from the pot and bowing her head. “Anything you desire.”
“He’s planning to tie you up,” the Huntress said snidely. “Try not to get soaked just thinking about it.”
Jorem shot the raven-haired woman a baleful glare before he turned back to Selvhara. “Look, I’m not sure how preface this, so I’ll just come out and say it.” He took a deep breath and offered her a sympathetic smile. “I know you’re convinced I’ll figure out a way to free you from Dathiel, but I still don’t know if or how that is even possible.”
“You will find a way,” Selvhara said, and again she meant every word. “You are a Wyrm Lord. You are the only one who can save me.”
“I hope you’re right, I really do,” he said, his voice grave. “But you warned us that your master might focus his attention upon you at any moment, and when he does…well, you were w
orried about what it could mean.”
He knows, Selvhara thought. Somehow, Jorem knows what is really happening…
She wanted to smile but stopped herself at the last moment. She sensed that the One God’s attention was still mostly focused elsewhere, but she also knew that could change in an instant if she reacted to anything too strongly. This might be the opportunity to subvert his will that she had been waiting for. If Jorem was already suspicious of her, betraying him wouldn’t be as easy as Dathiel hoped…
“The bottom line is that I think it’s probably safer for you and everyone else if you’re kept out of harm’s way during the coming battle,” Jorem went on. “There are cells in the Gray Citadel capable of restraining almost anyone, even a werewolf. If you’re willing, I would like to—”
“That’s a marvelous idea!” Selvhara said, a little too eagerly. She tried to force herself to contain her elation but couldn’t.
This is perfect! They just have to secure me before Dathiel realizes what’s happening…
Jorem arched a brown eyebrow. “You…you really think so?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, her trembling fingers setting down the stirring spoon. “You should take me to a cell right away.”
Valuri groaned and folded her arms. “Gods, I told you this would get her wet.”
“The Inquisitrix’s forces are still downriver,” Jorem said. “They might not attack until tomorrow…or they could even wait and form another blockade.”
“Regardless, it would be safer for everyone if you secure me as soon as possible, my lord,” Selvhara told him. Her heart fluttered anxiously as she waited for the One God to reassert control, but he still seemed distracted. Perhaps she could quickly tell Jorem what was really going on…
It’s too risky. If he focuses upon me now, I could lose everything.
Kaseya stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on the druid’s bare shoulder. “Are you certain about this? The Citadel is not a pleasant place. We will not force you to go.”
