Deyro shook his head. “Honestly, I don't remember anything after seeing you put about a thousand arrows into Nepar.”
I shrugged. “Nepar had a Door in his chambers,” she said. “I was so panicked, I almost didn't see it at first. But I managed to drag you through it.”
“Super strength, huh?”
“Exactly,” I said. “Anyway, once I got you through the Door, I called for help. Nobody really believed you were going to make it, but they went to work on you anyway. You were out of it for a few weeks. I thought I was going to lose you.”
“But you didn't,” he said and squeezed my hand.
“No, I didn't,” I said and leaned my head on his shoulder. “And I'll be grateful every single day of my life for that.”
He planted a soft kiss on the top of my head. “And I'll be grateful every single day of my life for the fact that you saved me,” he said and looked into my eyes. “You saved me in more ways than one.”
We turned and walked back into the cottage we had rented for our honeymoon. It sat right on the beach and we both enjoyed the sound and scents of the sea.
When we stepped inside, Deyro picked me up and spun me around, kissing me gently. Slowly though, our kiss became more passionate. More urgent. He carried me to the bedroom and laid me down on the bed. He climbed on top of me and our kissing became more heated. I ran my hands through his long, dark hair and planted a line of kisses along his neck.
Deyro looked down at me, his face full of need. Desire. Ever since he'd recovered, we hadn't been able to get enough of each other. It was as if that brush with death had made us crave that life-affirming act of making love. It was as if we needed to remind each other that we were both still alive.
A soft moan escaped my lips as Deyro kissed my neck, sliding the tip of his tongue along my skin. His hands explored my body. He cupped and squeezed my breasts, before his hands traveled lower. He slid them up under my skirt, trailing his fingertips along my inner thighs. The fire inside of me exploded into life beneath his touch and I quickly unbuckled his belt.
He stood up and pulled his pants down for me. I watched as he slipped them down his legs and kicked them off, admiring how hard he was for me already. Deyro slipped his shirt off over his head and I winced as I looked at the scar on his belly. Though he could heal from most any wound because of his Dragonborn blood, the toxin Nepar had used on that dagger left Deyro permanently scared.
I sat up and planted a line of soft kisses along that scar, running my hands across his chest. Deyro gently pushed me back onto the bed and reached up under my skirt, pulling my panties down and tossing them aside. A mischievous smile crossed his lips as he crawled on top of me. I parted my thighs, wrapping them around his waist as he kissed me.
The fires of desire and need were burning out of control within me and I almost screamed when he thrust himself deep inside of me. I raked my fingernails across his back as he began to move his hips, moving inside of me.
Deyro pulled the straps of my dress down, exposing my breasts. Lowering his face, he licked and sucked on my nipples, sending bursts of electricity through my body. He kept moving inside of me as he traced the tip of his tongue around my nipples, heightening the pleasure coursing through me.
I put my hands on his shoulders to roll him over, but he gave me a salacious smile. Taking my hands in his, he pinned them to the bed above my head. I struggled to break free, but couldn't. His grip was like iron and he held me fast. I smiled at him as he quickened his pace, his cock sliding in and out of the hot, wet center of me.
I cried out and arched my back as he thrust himself deep. Our bodies moved together as one, each of us anticipating the moves of the other in perfect harmony. We fit together so perfectly, it was like our bodies were made for each other.
Deyro still held me down and kissed me hard as his body tightened as he moved within me. I moaned and called his name, feeling the pressure building up low within me. He gasped as I tightened my muscles around his cock, squeezing him.
“I love it when you do that,” he groaned. “I love being inside of you.”
“And I love having you inside of me.”
I thrust my hips, meeting his own thrusts, taking him deeper inside of me. With the sensation of absolute pleasure running through me, I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. Deyro kept pumping his hips, driving himself into me with long, steady strokes, and I relished in the feeling of taking every glorious inch of him into me.
As my body began to tremble, I cried out. My orgasm crashed down over me like the waves on the beach outside. My body spasmed hard and long, the pleasure cascading down on me, making my body feel like it was burning from the inside out.
Deyro grunted and then growled low. His body stiffened and he called out my name as he filled me with his warm, wet seed. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as he came for me. His cock pulsed within me, touching off another round of sensations that made me cry out.
Eventually, our breathing began to return to normal, the sensations slipped away like the sun slipping below the horizon. He rolled over and I laid my head on his chest. I trailed my fingertips across his body, running them over the scar on his abdomen – a permanent reminder of what I'd almost lost.
I kissed his stomach and reveled in the afterglow. It was hard for me to believe that we'd gone from where we'd been to where we were. Once upon a time, not all that long ago, it was difficult for us to even be in the same room. There was a time when I couldn't stand being around him.
But times had changed – and so had our feelings. We'd gone from hunting partners and rivals to a couple that was very truly and very deeply in love.
“Do you think this is what Shango and Quint had planned the whole time?” I asked.
Deyro laughed softly. “If it is, then they are both smarter and far more devious than we've been giving them credit for.”
“It just seems a little strange to me,” I said. “A little – coincidental.”
“How could he have known it would turn out this way?”
I shrugged. “He couldn't. Not with any certainty,” I said. “But he seemed to know there was something between us. And he knew it long before we did.”
“Maybe it was just a lucky guess,” Deyro laughed. “Quint did say he's a romantic. Maybe he saw a spark because he wanted to believe it.”
“And yet – here we are,” I countered. “We're married and in love. And Shango called it from the start.”
Deyro smiled at me. “Well, maybe he was on to something,” he said. “Either way though, it worked out pretty damn well, I think.”
I looked up at him and grinned. “It worked out very, very well.”
I closed my eyes and felt the warm, soft blanket of sleep starting to be pulled over me. I felt a little drowsy and comfortable. I was where I needed to be. Where I wanted to be – in Deyro's arms. And I knew he felt the same way.
It had taken some doing to get us to that point. But eventually, we got there. And the work we'd had to put in to get there seemed to make it all the more special. All the more worthwhile. And all the more worth fighting for. For the first time in my life, I was genuinely and deeply happy.
“I love you,” I murmured.
“I love you too, Alex.”
I smiled dreamily and let the soft embrace of sleep take hold and pull me under.
THE END
Book 5 – Baby for the Dragon
Prologue
Jerusalem 1187 A.D.
The catapult releases its load and it soars overhead, screaming toward the target. It crashes against the wall with a crack that sounds like thunder, sending a spray of stone shrapnel outward and upward. The men gathered on the ground, their armor and swords glinting in the late afternoon sun raise their hands and cheer as another crack in the formidable wall before them appears.
It is only a matter of time.
I stand on the rise overlooking Jerusalem as the mighty siege engines continue to pound the high, thick w
alls of the city. The light of the day is slipping away, casting the sky in a deep, vibrant red hue. Much like the blood that will flow in the streets of the city when the walls finally fall. And they will fall. It's inevitable. I've seen humans warring with one another more times than I can count and it always ends up the same way – walls crumble and many people die.
But what humans choose to do with and to one another is not my concern. It is not my place to dictate how they exist together – or choose not to. My only concern is defeating the creatures of the night. The evil that lurks in the shadows. Although they are unseen, reduced to little more than whispers and folklore, it is those dark beings who are the real threat to humanity.
“Master Mytel,” came the voice behind me.
Saladin, the esteemed Sultan of Egypt and Syria – and leader of the Muslim forces arrayed before the city of Jerusalem -- strides up to me, a warm smile upon his face.
“Simply, Mytel, if you please,” I reply.
“As you wish,” he says and turns to watch his siege engines battering the walls of the city, a light of pride in his eyes – but also blended with a hint of despair.
“For many days this has gone on,” he says softly. “Many lives have already been lost.”
“And many more will be lost once the walls come down.”
He nods, his expression turning grim. “This is not what I wanted,” he says. “This is never what I wanted.”
“I know,” I reply.
“Balian has proven to be a formidable adversary,” he says. “Cunning. Intelligent. Devoted. And very stubborn.”
“I've only had the occasion to meet with him once, and my impression of the man is much the same,” I say. “But he also strikes me as a pragmatic man. Surely he can see the inevitable and will take measures to prevent it.”
Saladin's grin is rueful. “He has threatened to destroy all holy sites – Christian and Muslim alike. He says he will raze every building in the city and kill every soul within its walls,” he says softly. “Those do not seem like the words of a man who wishes to take measures to stop the madness before it begins.”
There is a thunderous crack followed by a wave of cheering as a load from a catapult takes a large chunk out of the wall, high up, near the ramparts. Saladin nods to himself. He is an intelligent man and knows how this is going to end – in blood. Lots and lots of blood.
But I also know this is not what he wants. He wants to reclaim the Holy City without bloodshed, if at all possible. But as I've learned, human nature, being what it is, made that an impossible task from the start. Pride and ego – mixed with a healthy dose of religion and greed – makes for more conflict and war than anything. Perhaps, it's the only reason for conflict and war.
“My hope is that Balian chooses to do the right thing for his people,” he says. “And surrenders the city. My wish is to stop the bloodshed before it begins.”
I shrug. “If there is one thing I've learned about humans,” I say. “It is that they posture. They attempt to give themselves leverage when it appears they have none. Balian is in an impossible situation. He has no army. Very few knights. He has been left in charge of the defenses of a city facing an army as grand as yours. In his mind, the threats he has made are his only bit of leverage. He is not a stupid man, great Sultan. He doesn't want to destroy Jerusalem and kill every being within it any more than you want that.”
He is silent for a long moment before finally giving me a small nod. “Perhaps,” he says. “I hope that you are right, my friend.”
He casts a look to the eastern sky and as he stares at the swirling mass of dark clouds in the distance, I see the unease upon his face.
“Is that –”
I nod. “It is a true sign,” I say. “The Rites of Ascension heralding the coming of the Ba’Chul are being performed.”
He nods and forces his eyes away from the storm in the east. We stand together for a long moment, watching the scene unfolding before us, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts. While I'm endlessly fascinated by humanity and the things they do, I am standing on that rise outside the gates of Jerusalem for a reason. And as I look into the eastern sky and see a mass of dark clouds swirling high above the earth, that reason is only reaffirmed in my mind. It is a true sign of what is to come.
The time is coming close. Too close.
“How go the preparations?” I ask.
Saladin nods. “If Allah is willing, you will have your entry into the city tonight.”
I nod. “Excellent,” I say. “Your aid is appreciated and you will be well compensated for it.”
I bite back the words that pop into my head – the words I would really like to say. It's not God or Allah or whatever other deity the humans believe in who is going to save this world. The only thing that will save this world from the very real evil threatening to destroy humanity is me and my kind. I know that on some level, Saladin understands this – which is why he agreed to help us in the first place. But I also know that humans, being who and what they are, must also cling to the notion of powers greater than themselves.
And I chastise myself internally for my thoughts. It is not my place to judge them. Not my place to disabuse them of their ideas and beliefs. My place – my only place – is standing between them and the genuine evil that seeks to eradicate or enslave them.
The evil that lurks beneath the Holy City.
“There are some among my advisors who question your motives,” he says. “Who question your words.”
I nod. Of course, there are. There always are.
“But I have shown myself – my true self – to you, great Sultan,” I say. “You know what I really am.”
He nods. “I do,” he says. “Though, I must admit to having my own skepticism – in the beginning. These men have not seen your true essence. And they have difficulty believing that Allah would create such a –”
He bit off his words, but I know what he was going to say.
“Monster,” I finish for him.
He looks away, his face tight and his expression one of remorse for thinking such a word – something he undoubtedly believes is a high insult.
“Do not trouble yourself, great Sultan,” I say. “Words have no power unless you give them that power. The word monster does not trouble me. Believe me, I have been called worse.”
He turns his eyes to me, his expression conveying both his sorrow for thinking it and his gratitude for my understanding.
“Would it set their minds at ease to see me in my true form?”
Saladin looks at me with an expression that says he isn't sure. Personally, I do not know if it will either. It very well might drive them the other way and lead them to acting out of fear and irrationality. It was one reason we very seldomly revealed our true nature to humans – most did not have the capacity to grasp what we were in our true forms.
Which never failed to amuse me, given their complete lack of hesitance to believe in and embrace their religious symbols – entities they could neither see nor touch. But again, it's not my place to cast aspersions.
“Bring your skeptical friends,” I say. “I will meet you down in the flats beyond the hill.”
Saladin gives me a nod and a thankful smile before turning away and walking back down the rise to gather his men. I take another look at the dark clouds in the eastern sky and as I see bolts of lightning lancing down from the middle of the maelstrom, I feel that familiar sense of foreboding pressing down on me.
Time is running short. Very, very short.
There really is not time for this – or the foreseeable discussions that will follow in its aftermath – but I have no choice. Although Saladin knows and understands the threat facing the world, his men do not. And he is smart enough to know that he will need their support – not just in this campaign, but long after my work here is done.
I stand at the bottom of the gully, waiting. A few moments later, Saladin and his men appear on the lip of the gully, staring down at me. This is a disp
lay for them only – the ones who need to understand the peril they are facing. To show my true self to the rank and file fighters of Saladin's army would only confuse and frighten them all. It would likely lead to chaos in the ranks. Defections. Warring with one another.
And that is the last thing I – or Saladin – need right now. While my interest in Jerusalem is not the same as his, we have at least agreed that saving the world is a worthy enough goal that we can work together.
With the thunder of the catapults battering the walls in the background, I looked at the men staring down at me. I see the open skepticism in the eyes of some. Open hostility in the eyes of a few others. I know they don't trust me. Don't like the fact that Saladin and I seem as close as we are – or that he apparently trusts me more than some of them. But then, they don't understand the enormity of the situation we're all facing.
“You – we – all face an evil far greater than you can ever imagine,” I say. “It has nothing to do with Christianity, Islam, or Judaism. It has everything to do with the end of humanity as we know it.”
“And what is this evil you speak of?” calls one man.
“It is the coming of a being who will destroy this world,” I reply. “Those who are not consumed in flame will be enslaved – doomed to forever serve this new, dark master.”
“I do not believe there is an evil we cannot conquer,” another man calls out. “Our war machines can lay waste to any enemy.”
“Not this one,” I say.
“And you believe you can defeat it?”
I nod. “Yes, I can,” I reply. “Me and my kind are not like you. Your vast armies and war machines will be powerless against it. This evil I speak of is one of my kind. And only we can defeat it.”
“Perhaps,” Saladin calls out, his voice echoing around the gully. “You can show these men your true form. Perhaps then, the questions will cease and understanding will take hold.”
I nod and quickly remove my clothing, dropping my breeches and tunic atop my boots on the ground next to me. The men at the top of the gully exchange looks with one another, some of them looking – embarrassed – by my nudity.
No Such Thing as Dragons : Complete Series Box Set (Books 1 - 5) Page 51
