“It hurts!” the white dragon moaned. “I can’t heal…It’s too bad! Tried, but…”
“Shhh.” The boy rested his hand on her neck. Nineva gave him a startled look. He spoke the Draconian language without the use of a translation spell, something she wouldn’t have even believed possible to a human throat. “See? Your pain fades.”
“Oh,” Eithne said, sounding weakly surprised. “That is…better.”
“I can take it from here,” Nineva told the boy in Cachamwrian Sidhe. He had to be one of her people, given the spell he’d just cast. “This is no place for you. Your parents are probably…”
“Nineva,” Kel interrupted, his voice very low. “That’s not a boy.”
Her mouth dropped open as he told her through the Truebond exactly who it was. She sat back on her heels and stared.
Magic poured from Merlin’s long, slender hand, flooding over the dragon’s body in a glittering wave. Everywhere it touched, the burns faded and disappeared, replaced by healthy white scales.
Finally the alien wizard took his hand away. Eithne sat up with a heave of effort and looked around, worry on her dragon face. “Aevar? Where’s Aevar?” Her blue gaze fell on the blackened figure lying a short distance away. “Oh, Aevar…”
And softly at first, she began to keen in a Draconian cry of grief.
It was almost dawn when they gathered in the Magekind’s council chambers—Arthur, Llyr, Diana, the Majae, and the Knights of the Round Table, including Kel and Nineva.
And of course, Merlin, who presented Arthur with the Grimoire. He’d reconstructed the magical tome from the remnants of it he’d found among the ley lines.
“You returned.” Arthur accepted the book, staring at his mentor with dazed eyes. “Or—had you ever left?”
Merlin laughed, a surprisingly deep and masculine sound coming from a face so young. “Oh, I left. Nimue and I have been very busy, spiking the Dark Ones’ guns.” He sobered. “But when I sensed my Grimoire’s destruction in a death magic spell, I knew you needed me.”
“And you weren’t wrong,” Arthur admitted.
“I don’t know.” There was a trace of pride in Merlin’s infinite eyes. “You seemed to have things well in hand when I arrived.”
“If you hadn’t raised the wards again and nullified the Dark Ones’ death magic…,” Morgana began.
“I had nothing to do with that.” Merlin gestured gracefully, pointing out Nineva and Kel. “You’ll have to ask those two about what happened to the wards.”
“Damn, Gecko,” Gawain said, staring at them. “What did you do this time?”
Kel shrugged. “Freed Semira from her sword and helped her and Cachamwri regain their powers.”
Gawain blinked. “How the hell did you do that?”
He met Nineva’s eyes and took her hand in his. His fingers felt warm and strong. “Together.”
Sunrise and the coming Daysleep sent the vampires grumbling to their beds, though only after Merlin promised to stay the week.
Nimue, it seemed, was back on whichever planet Merlin had come from, busy testing champions among the intelligent race they’d found there. Merlin wanted to get back to his lover, but decided that he’d catch up with his Magekind and Dire Wolf creations first. He went home with Arthur and Gwen, who were almost ridiculously delighted with the prospect of Merlin as a house-guest.
The sun was coming up by the time Nineva and Kel left the capitol building and started the long walk toward his hillside home. They could have gated, but she wanted to breathe air that didn’t smell of smoke and death.
They weren’t even halfway home when they heard Draconian voices lifted in a shout.
Nineva’s head snapped up as the sound echoed over the city. She shot Kel a troubled look. “I thought they were going home.”
He frowned. “Apparently not. We’d better go check it out.”
They found the dragons gathered on the rolling countryside that lay beyond the battlefield. Sitting in a huge concentric circle, the great beasts lifted their voices in a thunderous song of praise.
In the center of the circle lay Cachamwri, glowing like a star, with Semira lounging on his back like a lazy cat.
“Look,” the Dragon God called as Nineva and Kel circled overhead, staring down at them in surprise. “It’s our brave heroes!”
As one, the dragons raised their heads and roared. “Kel! Nineva!”
It was unmistakably a cheer of approval. Kel almost fell out of the sky.
Cachamwri laughed, a great, booming sound. “Come down, you two. I was telling them how you saved us all.”
The dragons responded with another deafening howl of approval.
Holy hell, Kel said through the Truebond, sounding stunned.
Nineva poked him in the neck. Land, would you? I want to hear this.
They spent the next hours being feted and praised by the same creatures who’d tried to kill them the day before.
Kel told her later that he doubted they were entirely sincere—especially not the Dragon Lords.
As for the collective Dragonkind opinion of humanity, he predicted that would be even slower to change. Still, the courage and skill the Magekind and Sidhe had shown had indeed altered perceptions among the younger generation. And so had Cachamwri’s obvious love for Semira, whom he seemed to see as the only being remotely like himself.
True love, Nineva murmured in their mental link as they finally flew home. Ain’t it grand?
Kel snorted.
“Look,” Nineva said, pointing a slender finger as her voice rose in exaggerated joy. “Is that…? Why yes, I do believe it is! It’s a bed!” Naked, conjured clean of both armor and blood, she fell face-first across Kel’s huge mattress. “Hello, bed. I’ve missed you so.”
“You,” Kel told her, “are a twit.”
“I’m also seriously sleep-deprived.” She sat up long enough to fling back the covers, then squirmed underneath. “And I feel like I’ve been run over by a train.” Yawning hugely, she added, “Or an entire flock of dragons.”
“Dragons do not travel in flocks.”
“Gaggles?”
“That’s geese.”
“Herds?”
“Horses.”
“Big, flappy bunches?”
He lifted the covers and crawled in next to her, then hauled her against his side. “Sleep.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do, if you’d just shut the hell up.”
Kel snorted and wrapped his naked body around hers. With a sigh of satisfaction, she cuddled back into him.
In seconds, they were both asleep.
NINETEEN
Nineva woke to kisses. Slow, openmouthed, hungry. She smiled sleepily. “You taste like apples and honey.”
“That’s why they call it magic.” Kel cupped her bare breast, his thumb stroking her nipple to full erection.
She stretched against him like a cat, loving the feel of that clever hand, the mouth pressing gentle nibbles beneath her jaw. He found her ear and licked it until she giggled. Sliding a hand down, she located his cock, brawny against her belly, and stroked it gently. It felt like warm satin over a core of stone. Her fingers discovered his pulse, beating strong and steady.
A giddy joy suddenly rose in her. They’d survived. Against all odds—hell, they’d both died—they lived. Dark Ones defeated, Semira freed, wards back up and protecting both planets against another invasion.
“I can’t believe we made it,” Nineva murmured against Kel’s mouth.
“I can.” He gave her a deliberately arrogant smile. “I’m good.”
“Yeah?” She pushed him over onto his back and rolled on top of him, straddling his thighs. “Prove it.”
“Okay.” He grabbed her backside in both hands and lifted her like a feather pillow. Before she knew what hit her, he’d spread her across his face and was giving her a long, wicked lick.
She gasped and squirmed. “Kel!”
He made a muffled sound with a distinctly sati
sfied note. Both hands reached up her torso and found her breasts. His fingers discovered the eager jut of her nipples and began to squeeze and tug. A long, juicy curl of pleasure made her sigh and catch the headboard.
Although…Nineva pulled off him.
“Hey, wait a minute…” He grabbed for her again, but she was already rearranging herself, head-down along his body. She grabbed his cock and angled it upward for a long, teasing lick of her own.
“Well,” Kel said, his voice muffled by her straddling thighs, “if you insist.”
“Less talking, more nibbling,” she suggested, and swirled her tongue over the fat plum head of his cock.
He laughed and obeyed, licking with wicked enthusiasm. Suddenly he paused, and she sensed the rise of magic through the Truebond. The next stroke of his tongue made her jerk in delighted surprise.
“Is that forked?”
“How kinky do you think I am?” he lisped.
She giggled helplessly, squirming as he demonstrated. Until he finally paused again and said, “Less laughing, more licking.”
Prodded, she leaned forward with a final snort of laugher and engulfed the head of his cock. Slowly, she started working it deeper into her mouth, suckling him hard. He stiffened, arching under her with a gasp of delight.
Then he deepened the Truebond link, and suddenly she could feel exactly how her mouth felt hot and wet around his most sensitive flesh. She gasped, intrigued, then drew off him and gave him a testing swirl of her tongue. Cupping his balls with one hand, she stroked, adding another luscious layer of sensation.
Kel, however, was not one to take pleasure passively. The next lick of that long forked tongue had her jerking. He rumbled in satisfaction at her reaction.
To retaliate, she bent her head and nibbled around the cap of his cock, enjoying the sensation of her own teeth through the bond.
So they played with each other, teasing, licking, slow gentle bites, the stroke and brush of fingers. And each touch made their building orgasms tighten a bit harder, a bit closer.
“Don’t come,” he warned against her sex. “I’ll go over if you do.”
Nineva smirked. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“Better not, wench. Not if you want that cock somewhere other than your mouth.”
Laughing softly, she lowered her head and sucked one of his balls into her mouth, then played her tongue over it. The sensations coming through the Truebond made her squirm. Any minute now, he’d…
“All right,” he growled, “you asked for it.”
He tumbled her onto her back as she shouted in laugher, then sat up and rolled between her thighs. Lifting her backside in both hands, he drove his cock into her wet, ready sex. That first lunge made both of them groan.
Kel drew out slowly, his eyes slitted in delight, then started working back in again. She panted, loving the thick satin feel of him, the strength and heat.
Grabbing his powerful biceps, she stared up into his starkly handsome face, the swing of his cobalt hair, the flex of his great shoulders. “I love you,” she managed.
Those words were almost enough to make him come all by themselves. Kel managed to fight off the storm of pleasure with pure willpower as he gasped, “I love you, too!”
What a fucking understatement.
Nineva laughed, hearing the thought in the Truebond. Her lush inner muscles tightened on him, and he felt the first hard pulse deep in his core.
Or maybe it was hers. With the Truebond, it was hard to tell.
Kel let go, driving hard, glorying in the sweet, slick heat. She met him thrust for thrust, rolling her hips in time to his, straining for the hot explosion that danced just beyond their reach.
When it burst free, orgasm triggered orgasm in a luscious feedback loop more intense than anything either of them had ever felt before. The long jets were endless, blinding.
When he finally collapsed beside her, it took the last of his strength to pull her on top of his chest. They lay like that, boneless as rag dolls, wanting nothing more than to breathe.
The happiness Kel felt was so huge, it felt like a second climax. A thought occurred to him, but he hesitated, trying to come up with a suitable way to voice it.
Nineva lifted her head and grinned at him. “Yes.”
Pretending offense, he glowered at her. “You could have the decency to let me ask.”
“So ask.”
“No. I’ve changed my mind.”
“You lying lizard, you have not.”
He lifted an aloof brow and stared, daring her.
She gave up in disgust. “Okay, then. I’ll ask.” The mock offense faded from her face, leaving behind a soft, lovely glow. “Marry me.”
Kel smiled in pure, sweet joy. “Yes. Cachamwri’s Egg, yes.”
But there was the funeral to get through first, a memorial service that saddened them both despite their glowing joy.
The Sidhe and the Direkind had returned their dead to their families for separate services, but the Magekind had a different tradition. Kel told her Avalonian funerals were usually held in the central square, but there was no room for so many biers there. Instead it was held on what had been the battlefield.
So they gathered again—the Magekind, many of the Sidhe, a surprising number of Direkind, even a few dragons. All but the dragons wore full court mourning, black velvet heavy with embroidery and muted gems.
Nineva, her hand in Kel’s, looked around with a kind of sad approval; the Majae had been busy with their magic. There was no sign of blood and death here anymore, no scorched earth or magical burns. The Magekind had turned the entire area into a vast summer garden, blooming and warm in the moonlight despite the winter that lay all around. Here and there were huge bronze statues—a dragon in the act of taking off with his Maja rider, a mounted loyalist Sidhe warrior, an armored vampire swinging his sword.
And in the center of it all stood the biers, arranged in circles. Men and women lay in armor or elaborate gowns, the injuries that had killed them gone, their faces calm as if in sleep. Flowers were mounded around them—roses, orchids, exotic Mageverse blooms Nineva knew no name for. The scent of them had a kind of sad beauty.
Then the ceremony began, first with prayers from representatives of each religion the fallen had followed. After that, friends and loved ones spoke of those they’d lost, some speaking simply, some with soaring oratory.
Nineva was crying long before it was finished. Even Kel wiped tears without shame.
At last Arthur stepped into the center of the garden. Looking regal, every inch a king no matter what office he held now, he lifted his voice. “We have known such grief the last year, so many losses. This is the worst of all. So many brave men and women gone, Sidhe and Magekind, so many gallant dragons fallen. So many who gave up immortal lives in battle against a vicious foe, that their people might live in peace. It is a debt we can never repay—except by what we do with the lives they paid for. Make the best of them, my friends.” He let his voice ring. “And never forget.”
Arthur drew Excalibur as all the vampires followed suit. “Magi, present arms!” A forest of swords pointed skyward, Kel’s among them.
Merlin stepped out of the crowd to Arthur’s side, beardless and oddly beautiful in black velvet robes that fell around his slim body. “Majae!” he called. “Join with me in sending our lost ones home.”
Power lanced from his fingers and struck the biers, his magic blending with that the Majae obediently fired. The biers exploded into a globe of blinding light that shot skyward and detonated to shower the garden in a rain of sparks.
Blinking back tears, Nineva leaned into Kel’s shoulder as a reverent silence fell.
After such sadness, Nineva would have expected their hasty wedding to be a dark affair, but she’d underestimated the Magekind’s love of a good party.
It was held two days later in the central square, which was decorated with huge urns of shimmering red Mageverse roses for the occasion. The impressive crowd included a
ll the guests who’d attended the funeral. Even the dragons wandered around in human form, apparently having been taught to shift by Soren. Most of them looked uncomfortable, but gamely determined to honor Kel. It almost seemed they were trying to make up for how they’d treated him.
The exception was Eithne, who made an exquisite platinum blonde and seemed to be having the time of her life flirting with every Magekind and Sidhe she encountered. Including some of the women; evidently she didn’t have a firm grasp on how to determine human gender.
Nineva, however, had her own concerns to worry about. She’d dithered over what to wear, conjuring half a dozen court gowns. Finally she went with the one she’d always secretly dreamed of, regardless of whether it was appropriate for a Sidhe royal or not.
So it was that she walked down the aisle on the arm of Llyr Galatyn wearing a traditional white wedding gown, complete with seed pearls and yards of white lace. Her veil was so long, it brushed the pearl-strewn silk of her train.
To her delight, Kel looked as stunned as any mortal bridegroom as he stood waiting with Gawain under a rose-covered arch. Merlin stood with them, a great silver cup in his hand. The alien wizard wore yet another robe, this one white and strewn with emeralds, rubies, and intricate runes embroidered in gold.
Evidently, the Magekind came by their flair for the dramatic from Merlin.
Still, Nineva was only barely aware of him. Her groom held her full attention.
Kel looked incredibly handsome in a blue velvet tunic, its slashed sleeves revealing the white linen of his shirt. Blue hose clung to the powerful muscle of his thighs. A knight’s golden spurs adorned his boots, a match for the belt knotted around his lean waist. His sword swung by his side, its gold and gems glinting.
His bow was reverent as Llyr extended her hand in his. Kel straightened and accepted her fingers into his warm ones. Nineva couldn’t take her eyes from him as they knelt together.
Master of Dragons Page 27
