Dragon in the Blood (Vale of Stars Book 2)

by Juliette Cross

  “Let me help you relax.”

  “How?” My voice squeaked.

  “Roll onto your stomach.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me, Valla.”

  I did so, turning my face toward the fire on my side of the bed. He lowered the covers from my waist and unzipped the backflaps of my undershirt. This was not going to help me relax, but heaven help me, I wanted his hands on my skin. He nudged up my shirt and trailed his fingers in a slow glide across the small of my back, then massaged up my spine, making small half-circles with his thumbs along the calcar bone where my wings connected to my back, carefully kneading the muscle on each side of the thick bone.

  “Damn, Conn,” I muffled into the pillow.

  “Feels good?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  I hadn’t realized how achy my back had become with the strenuous flying in rough winds. Back home, I could fly all day and never feel a twinge of pain, but flight in Aria was different. Here, everything was different—harder, faster, more intense. No surprise that my feelings for Conn had shifted from utter annoyance to something harder, faster, and more intense.

  He rolled the heel of his palm up my spine to the nape of my neck then gently squeezed his fingers around the knots at the base where my shoulder met my neck. As he massaged his palm back down between my wings, I felt myself drifting into bliss, slowly falling into that ethereal place where I could walk the dreams of others. Before I slipped over, I felt Conn’s body shift closer, offering me the protection and warmth I needed to feel safe in this foreign place. And I wondered what it might be like if I could always feel this way.

  CHAPTER 15

  Decimus stood on the terrace as I stepped from the bedchamber. “She awaits, mistress.”

  Shrouded in a black mantle, I joined him. “Is she willing?”

  “Yes. But she has a request in exchange.”

  “Take me to her.”

  He flew down from the terrace to the stone path cleared of snow. I followed Decimus beyond the isolated grounds that were for myself alone. We skirted behind a row of cottages that were the officers’ quarters. Icy wind cut across the open snow-dusted prairie beyond, a punishing gale pushing another blizzard down to us from northern Aria. Finally, he ducked between two cottages. I followed.

  A door stood slightly ajar on the right, emitting a sliver of golden light. Within the narrow passageway a few steps from the door stood a delicate, bronze-skinned human woman. Draped in a gray cloak, the color for slaves, she met my gaze with steady green eyes. Remarkable. The silver cuff wrapping her throat denoted her the property of a high-ranking officer in the Larkosian army as opposed to the golden throat-chains of most breeders. She would have privileges beyond any slave here. That she was the one Decimus had found for my needs was curious.

  “What do they call you?” I asked.

  Decimus stood at her back, his wings open to block our presence should anyone pass on the torch-lit street beyond.

  The woman sneered. “They call me breeder, slave, and Primean scum. My master calls me trinket, pretty toy, and his favorite whore.” She lifted her chin, fire burning in her voice. “But my name is Serena Barrowdell, and I am the daughter of a Primean princess.”

  Beyond remarkable that she, one of the royal human line, should volunteer for my ceremony.

  “Has Decimus explained what I am asking of you?”

  “He has.” Her chin lifted higher, defiance filling up the air around me. This one held strength and power in her spirit.

  “If you are thinking to devise some plot to escape, you are wrong. Decimus will kill you in a blink if I should ask.”

  “I will not try to escape.”

  “What do you want in return?”

  “I want you to save my sister, Lena. I want her to be taken out of here, back to Primus, and delivered safely to our mother.”

  The wind gusted harder down the narrow passage, sifting up the snow around our ankles. I tightened the opening of the mantle.

  “This is not a simple task,” I stated.

  “You are not asking for a simple gift. From what your man here has told me, my life must be freely given. Correct?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Why can you not simply sacrifice an unwilling slave…as you usually do with the bleeders?”

  Smart one, this girl. I would not give her the answer she truly wanted—the reason behind my unconventional rite. But she deserved some sort of reply.

  “The blood blessings are to strengthen the king’s army. Rites for power and strength, the blood must be taken. For this rite, the one I need, the blood and a life must be freely given.”

  Never flinching, she removed the gray hood of her robe, revealing silken black hair and a noble feminine face. “I have royal blood coursing through my body. I offer it of my own free will, but only if you should take my sister from this pit of hell and deliver her unharmed to our home. You will ask my mother what she painted behind the headboard of our bed when we were children. That is how I will know you have delivered her safely”—she glanced over her shoulder at the stoic Decimus—“and that you have not simply tossed her over a cliff. Only my mother knows the answer.”

  I searched the night sky, overcast with blustery clouds, no sight beyond the gray canvas pressing down with the promise of more snow. “Mother Moon will be ready soon. We must perform the ceremony at the exact moment she is full.”

  “Then I recommend that you get my sister out of here soon. Your man here seems capable enough.”

  “Where will I find your sister? Is she here in the officers’ quarters as well?”

  She shook her head once—a stiff, robotic movement. “No. She is still in the breeders’ commune. I want her out of that cesspool. The sooner the better.”

  The commune was essentially a brothel for slaves not under the protection of a particular officer. They were taken by any man in need at any time of the day.

  “Serena!” came a bellowing voice within the cottage to my right. “In my bed. Now!”

  She stepped toward the door, then paused to glance over her shoulder. “I will be ready. Send your man when the deed is done.”

  She stepped back into the home to tend to her master’s needs. I pulled my mantle closer around me and was heading back out of the passageway to make our way back through the shadows when I sensed someone following us with light footsteps.

  Decimus whipped out his wings and whirled up into the air, somersaulting upside down and over me to tackle the slight figure who approached from behind. A tiny scream was muffled by his broad hand when he clamped the girl’s mouth. Decimus lifted her off the ground with one arm banded around her waist, still holding her quiet with the hand of the other.

  “Who are you? Why are you following me?”

  The petite girl dangled in my lover’s grip. He eased his hand from her mouth down to her frail throat.

  “I—I—I wasn’t following you. Not at first. I was following my sister.”

  She was the image of Serena, only smaller. “You are Lena?”

  “I am.” Her voice trembled. She hadn’t the fire in her as her sister did. It was no wonder she was still in the communes.

  “Set her down, Decimus.”

  He did but kept his hands on her shoulders covered by a gray cloak.

  “I came to see her earlier since I’ve earned one free hour a day. But Serena was anxious for me to leave. It wasn’t like her. I knew she was up to something. I can always tell.”

  “And so you heard her bargain in the alley, I imagine.”

  “I did. I have a better bargain for you.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Take me instead.”

  These two girls, sisters, fought for the right to die for one another. My heart twisted at the thought, for I understood the sentiment well. Marrow-deep empathy filled my lungs as the girl tumbled out more words and pleas to sacrifice her life for her beloved sister.

  “As you can assuredly see, I am much
weaker than Serena physically. She believes that taking me away from this place will save me. But I am beyond saving. Look.” She held up one tiny, trembling hand from within her cloak, the soft skin barely clinging to her bones. “I shake not because of the cold. It is constant. Fear is eating me away from the inside out. It has taken such a hold that there is no surviving it. Even if I were to be taken from this hell.”

  I stepped forward and took her tiny hand in mind. She did indeed seem to have a sickness of the heart and soul rippling through her frame. I could even smell it.

  “This does not tell me why you are the better bargain.”

  “My sister is strong. Take her out of here, and she will return to our family and make them proud despite the shame heaped upon us here in this horrific place. I will die soon. I know it. No matter where I’m at. But my heart is good, High Priestess. Though these men soil my body, my soul is still good. I will give it to you freely, my life, my blood. And I am ready whenever you are. I will go now even.”

  “It is not time,” I said quickly. “But very soon.”

  “It will serve you best to not have the fort under high alert, which is what will happen if I go missing should you take my sister’s offer. I know you must complete this rite in secrecy, or you would not be asking for a sacrifice in secret now. It will be difficult to do if I disappear from the commune, and the soldiers are put on extra guard duty at every exit and entrance.”

  Her chin quivered, but she spoke the truth. I needed to complete the rite under the open sky without interruption or discovery. It would not do for Larkos to learn of my plans, for he would certainly thwart them and probably kill me for good measure.

  “I imagine you want me to help your sister escape as well in return?”

  “I do. But you can do so at the most opportune time. I will trust that you keep to your end of the bargain.”

  “You will trust me?”

  “If you seal it with a blood oath…I will.”

  Trust, love, and innocence, yes, innocence, despite her body being used repeatedly for the foul pleasure of lustful men, reeked from this young girl. Her spirit, her blood, and her life would serve far better. Well and beyond what I had hoped for. I swallowed hard, willing Mother Moon to burst to fullness on the instant. If only.

  “Decimus, give me your dagger,” I ordered, opening my wings to block some of the wind.

  He pulled his heavy weapon from the sheath at his hip and handed it over. I upended the blade, pressed my palm at the head and sliced quickly on the flesh below my thumb. Opening my hand, palm up, I showed her. “You do the same.”

  She stepped forward and sliced her shaking hand across the blade. Gripping hers in mine, I said, “By the light of Mother Moon and by the blood of my ancestors, I shall save your sister and return her home…after your sacrifice of flesh and blood.”

  She cleared her throat, voice trembling, “By the Sisters of Holy Light and the love of my ancestors, I shall sacrifice my flesh and blood in exchange for my sister’s freedom.”

  Her words, not mine, called up the steady hum of Morgon magic. The vibration rippled out of my chest and buzzed in the air. Mother Moon blessed our vow. I would and must honor our agreement. What was more, I found myself wanting to. Strange that I should connect to a mere slave…a weak, sickly human. But the love in her eyes when she spoke of her sister called to my heart. There could be no lies in regards to this rite. It must be true and sure for the spell to work.

  Letting go of her hand, I stepped back. “Prepare yourself in whatever way you must. The time draws near.”

  She tucked her bleeding hand under her cloak. “I’ll be ready.” She slipped back into the shadows of the cottages and stepped quickly through the snow toward the soldiers’ quarters where the commune stood.

  Decimus drew close behind me, opening his wings to block the wind at my back. “She is the right choice, mistress.”

  “Aye,” I agreed. “I believe she is, lover.”

  I turned in his arms and pressed my body close, something I never did outside the privacy of my chambers. His body flinched at my sudden intimacy. I pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, relishing the swift beat of his pulse beneath my tongue. His hands found my waist within the folds of my cloak and squeezed.

  “Shall we go home and celebrate our new life together? For it seems it will begin very soon.”

  With a growl, he wrapped his arms gently around my waist and lifted us into the air. I didn’t even bother to open my wings, for he had enough strength to carry us both back to my bed where I was sure he would keep me awake through the night.

  CHAPTER 16

  T here was only one thing I could think about as I lay there on my side of the bed. Valla Moonring had the finest ass I had ever seen.

  Still sleeping on her stomach, her shirt open in the back where I’d left the backflaps unzipped, she had bent her leg on the opposite side of me, which pushed up her sumptuous ass to the perfect curve. If only there was nothing covering it. I’d drifted off for a few hours, but I was up now. Fuck, was I up.

  The burn in my gut radiated through my chest. A piercing, relentless throb ached for succor. My dragon urged me to touch, taste, take. The poor woman had no idea the filthy thoughts running through my head while she slept peacefully.

  I reached over and traced the pads of my fingers along her back, drifting my palm up the calcar bone on her right side and over the top arch of her wing. The skin was chafed and dry. She sighed and then blinked open her eyes.

  “Why are you scowling at me again?” she asked, voice groggy.

  “You need some balm on your wings, that stuff Gisa put in our packs.”

  I jumped off the bed and found the black bottle in my bag. Straddling that fine ass I’d been admiring for nearly an hour, I poured some of the ointment in my palm and rubbed my hands together. She didn’t move, didn’t protest, didn’t make a sound.

  Good. She was finally getting used to my touch.

  I gripped the top ridge and curled my fingertips gently, sliding the lotion over the tough skin of her dark wing. A soft sigh escaped her parted lips. Her eyes were closed again. I continued the massage in a sweeping motion, stretching my arms to cover the entirety of her wings, specifically at the joints where the icy wind had done the most damage.

  “Conn?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  “What about?”

  “Wren Starfell’s song. The prophecy.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that, too,” I admitted. One reason I’d slept little was that I tossed with dreams of a mystical valley and a black dragon.

  “When I dreamwalked with Kol, I told him it must all be some sort of metaphor. But he had no answer. Don’t you think it has to be some figurative language about a vale and dragons and a blind maid? They can’t be real. Right?” asked Valla.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Off,” she said, lifting her ass.

  When she’d bumped me in a sensitive spot, I hissed in a breath. I rolled to my side and leaned on an elbow, and when as she sat up, I reached behind her back and zipped the backflaps.

  She wore a serious look of concentration. “What do you mean maybe, Conn? Were you listening to the man?” She pulled the tie from her hair, which had half-fallen already, then combed her fingers through it in quick frustrated strokes.

  “Yes. I was listening.” I was also mesmerized by her fingers, swiftly separating her hair into thirds and plaiting with deft twists of her wrists.

  “So tell me, have you ever heard of a real place called the Vale of Stars? It’s just a fairy tale, right?”

  “The Vale was always spoken of as legend. Nothing more.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She twisted a tie around the end of her braid. “So, if we know Wren sang a prophecy, then he’s speaking in riddles.”

  Considering the prophecy again, I shot off the bed and went to the ewer of clean water and bowl left for us. Pouring some water into the
basin, I splashed my face and grabbed a hand towel to dry off.

  “Rowanflame.”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you even paying attention to me?”

  I laughed. “Why? Are you feeling neglected?”

  “Ugh. You know what I mean. Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking because I can actually hear your thoughts spinning in your head.”

  If that were the truth, she’d have run from me a long time ago. I tossed the towel next to the basin, picked up my thermal suit and slipped it on. Then I sat on the edge of the bed. “You do realize that most of the Starfell prophecies are meant to be taken literally, word for word?”

  “No. What do you mean?” she asked scooting closer as I shoved on one boot.

  I refrained from smiling. One thing I adored most about Valla was her guileless charm. She was a lethal warrior and yet had the most childlike candor in moments like this. Such sweet vulnerability. If she’d only trust me, I’d never take it for granted.

  “There was an elder in my clan who was the scholarly sort. Nicodemus.” I pulled the laces tight on my boot. “Anyway, I liked him. And he made it his goal to gather the Starfell prophecies and mark which had come true and which hadn’t.”

  “But the Starfells do that as well, I’m told,” she said, watching me dress quickly.

  “They do. But they never share that information. So Nicodemus researched himself, speaking to elders in different clans, and gathered what information he could, dating back at least two thousand years.”

  I finished lacing my second boot and dropped it to the floor.

  “And? What did he find?”

  “Exactly what I’ve told you. That out of the prophecies that had been fulfilled, he was surprised to find that almost all were literal translations. Not riddles as they so often sound.”

  “But that can’t be. I’ve been told of Starfell songs about creatures and beings and people that never existed.”

  “Songs, Valla. They weave fantastical songs. But prophecy is different. Their words are nothing more than the truth.”