The Dragon of Cecil Court

by Genevieve Jack

  “All right.”

  Avery was clearly protective of her niece or nephew. He led her up the stairs and to the end of the hall. The guest room he’d had prepared for her was the closest to his room and had the biggest fireplace in the house. Nathaniel started a fire for her while she retrieved the egg from its heated carrier.

  “Allow me. I am impervious to the flames.” He reached for the egg, but Avery jerked back and hugged it to her chest.

  “I’m sorry, Nathaniel. I know this is coming off as rude, but honestly Li’l Puff doesn’t like to be handled by other people,” she said. “Both Tobias and Gabriel got knocked on their asses trying. I’m the only one who can touch them.”

  “The egg knocked Gabriel and Tobias on their asses?” Nathaniel grinned. The thought was delightful.

  “It produces a purple electric charge that shocks people when the baby’s scared. I remind him or her of Raven, so it hasn’t happened with me.”

  She donned a pair of fireproof gloves and placed the egg on the grate.

  “So that’s why you take care of the egg and not, say, Rowan.”

  Avery chuckled. “Honestly, even before we knew about Li’l Puff’s zappy-zappy powers, Rowan resisted the idea of fostering the egg. She’s really bitter about motherhood. I don’t know what life was like for you in Paragon, but she for one seems fairly scarred by the experience.”

  Although Avery said it lightly and he had no doubt it was true, Nathaniel frowned at the notion. He’d enjoyed his youth. Maybe it was because there was little chance he’d ever sit on the throne. He wasn’t a threat and he wasn’t valuable enough for his future marriage to be used for political positioning. He was simply Nathaniel, a dragon prince with a secret, natural talent for magic. He’d always been treated with respect by his mother and indifference by his father and uncle, which was fine by him. It saddened him though that Rowan’s experience was so different.

  “Well, if you need anything, call for Tempest or Laurel. They don’t like to appear physically to strangers if they don’t have to, but they’ll get you what you need.” He stood and turned for the door.

  “Why don’t I have any magic?” she blurted.

  He stopped and pivoted back to her. “I have no idea.”

  She extended a hand toward him. “But you understand about magic. You must have some theories. Raven is younger than me by a year, and she’s this powerful witch. We have the same genes. The same parents. You say I’m part of some magical sisterhood with your girlfriend, who is also a powerful witch. So… what’s wrong with me?”

  A tear slipped from the corner of her right eye, and Nathaniel’s heart melted. She wasn’t Clarissa, but she looked too much like her to think of her as a stranger or to not be affected by her emotions. He sighed and motioned for her to have a seat. He sat down across the fire from her.

  “Magic isn’t linear,” he said. This was a lesson he usually gave new witches or wizards in the order, but he thought some knowledge might give her comfort. “It doesn’t flow in conjunction with time. It ebbs and flows with intention. You mentioned to Clarissa you’re twenty-four, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Clarissa’s magic appeared when she was twenty, but it took practice to tease it out of her. She had symptoms but had no control over what would become of her abilities until she met me.”

  Avery rested her elbows on her knees. Her fingers threaded and she rubbed her palms together slowly.

  “Do you want to have magic or does it scare you?” Nathaniel asked softly.

  Avery sighed and leaned back in the chair, the firelight dancing across her cheek. “I’m not sure if it’s magic I want exactly, I just want to be something more.” She shrugged. “I’m a waitress. I can’t even say that I work at a fancy, exclusive restaurant. I sling beer and bar food at my parents’ pub. Didn’t even have to apply for the job. I was never much good at school. I didn’t go to college. I don’t sing or play an instrument. There is literally nothing special about me.”

  “That’s not true,” Nathaniel said immediately.

  She laughed. “You’ve known me for a few hours. Believe me, it’s true.”

  He crossed his arms. “Yes, I have known you for only a few hours and already it’s clear to me you are an important part of a magical trio of powerful witches. As for your own power, I’ve already seen a hint of it.”

  She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

  “You are the only one who can touch the egg. You told me yourself.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not a big deal. It’s just because I look like Li’l Puff’s mother.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. Nathaniel had a hunch about something, and he was rarely wrong when it came to magic. “If that’s the case, then Clarissa should be able to handle the egg. You look almost identical aside from a little blond hair dye.”

  Avery’s face fell. Just as he thought. It was an element of pride that the baby had chosen her, and she actually thought she had nothing to do with it. “That’s true.”

  He took out his phone and fired off a text to Clarissa. She appeared in the doorway a few moments later. “Sorry about that. Tom wouldn’t stop about the O2. We’re going to have to come up with something… Oh, what’s going on?” She glanced between them, clearly noticing the look on Avery’s face.

  “Do you mind acting as our test subject?” Nathaniel asked.

  Clarissa raised an eyebrow. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just take the egg out of the fire.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “You want me to reach into the open flames?”

  He took out his pipe, lit it, and blew a smoke ring that morphed into a wave symbol. He pushed it toward the fire. The flames died.

  “It needs to stay warm!” Avery said.

  He raised a hand. “I’ll restart the fire as soon as we’re through with the test. Clarissa, the shell will be cool to the touch.” He inclined his head in the direction of the fireplace.

  Clarissa stepped to the egg and gathered it in her hands. “It is cool,” she said, “And bumpy.” He had a single breath to believe he’d been wrong before a purple electric storm of magic brewed around the egg. “Ouch!”

  Before she could drop it, Avery had it in her hands. “It’s okay, Li’l Puff. You’re safe,” Avery whispered to the egg.

  “What the hell was that?” Clarissa asked, shaking her hands like they hurt.

  “Avery thought the reason she was the only one other than Raven who could hold the egg was because she looked like her sister. I was simply proving to her she was wrong.”

  Avery set the egg back in the fireplace, and Nathaniel lit it back up.

  “I guess it is just me. What does that mean?” She looked between him and Clarissa.

  “I’m not sure yet. Your magic was taken from you when you were unbound from each other. Even if you had had magic before, it would be gone now. What you do have is a natural ability, similar to Clarissa’s voice. Clarissa can sing beautifully, with or without magic. When it comes to her voice, the magic is the rose on the already iced cake. You have… something else. You are a comfort to this child. Perhaps your magic will be related to that, a balancing force.”

  “So I might have magic.”

  “Yes. We won’t know for sure until we reconnect you three and are able to test you,” Nathaniel said.

  Avery’s attention turned back to the fire, and he could have sworn the hint of a smile flashed across her lips.

  Clarissa’s hand landed on his arm.

  “Well then, it’s time for bed,” Nathaniel said. “Please help yourself if you need anything.” He took Clarissa by the arm and led her from the room.

  “That was kind of you,” Clarissa said as they entered their own room and closed the door.

  “What was kind? Suggesting she might be more than she gives herself credit for? I had to. She reminds me too much of you to let her wallow in self-doubt.”

  “Actually, I meant what you sai
d about my voice. There really isn’t anything special about it without my magic, but I appreciate that you said there was.”

  He stopped and turned to her, unable to keep the surprise from his expression. “You can’t believe that. Clarissa, your talent is not reliant on your magic, only enhanced by it.”

  She turned away from him and snagged her nightgown from the corner of the bed. “You’re an easy audience.”

  He took off his suit jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt. “Hardly. Sing for me,” he said. “Now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Clarissa stopped what she was doing and regarded Nathaniel. He was shirtless, wearing only the slacks he’d dressed in that morning, and the sheer masculine energy he was putting off made her blood surge in her veins.

  “Now,” he said again, in the low gruff voice of a man who was used to having his way. “Sing for me.” His eyes were locked on her, acutely focused as if she were the only thing in the world. It was a heady thing being the center of a powerful dragon’s attention. It made her want to obey. Made her want to please him.

  “You’re not the boss of me,” she said, flashing him a snarky smile.

  He lowered his chin. “Please.”

  How could she refuse such a gentle and pleading dragon? She opened her mouth and sang the song she’d written about him.

  Your night, it crawls to meet

  the darkness inside me.

  Don’t you know that your energy

  is the thing making me me?

  I was once a dying thing.

  You helped me find my wings.

  Now I fly among the stars,

  free from you, free from us.

  But it’s cold without your fire.

  It’s cold without your fire.

  If I could take the blame

  and lure back your flame,

  I’d hold you once again

  And it would never be the saaaaame.

  He had her in his arms before she could finish the last note of the refrain. “Still magical,” he said into her mouth. His fingers flew down the front of her blouse, and he pushed it from her shoulders. Her pants were next, his movements fast and precise, the taste of tobacco on his tongue. She tried to respond, reached for the buckle on his belt, but he came at her like the ocean, his hands and mouth everywhere at once, overwhelming her senses, and she found it was impossible not to simply move with it, like jumping into the wave and allowing it to carry her in the swell.

  In a heartbeat, he had her on the bed, both of them naked. He rolled her on top of him and stared up at her like she was his own personal goddess. “Tell Tom you’re ready to sing at O2.”

  She stopped. “Isn’t that risky? The concert is Saturday night. What if you can’t bind us before then? I won’t have my magic.”

  “Then sing without your magic. Tell your audience you’ve recovering from… whatever you told Tom you’re having fixed. Your voice is incredible, Clarissa, just as it is. You are enough as you are. They will love you, not like I do, but enough for you to continue doing what you love while we figure this thing out.”

  She rose up on her knees, vividly aware of their nakedness and the fact he was pressed between her legs in the most delicious way. She wanted to feel him inside her, wanted to ride him and be ravished by him until she was spent and sated. But her mind fought against her body. This was important. This conversation was long overdue.

  “But what’s the point, Nathaniel? I told you I’m yours. I gave myself to you. What meaning would that have if I left again? My career takes me all over the world. I’m touring right now and for the next year. We’d be apart more than we’d be together.”

  “Only if you don’t take me with you.”

  A lump formed in her throat. “Your home is here. So is your business.”

  “And they’ll still be here when I return. Albert is proving a worthy apprentice, and I can help him from afar. Tempest and Laurel will take care of this house while I’m gone. Warwick can run the order.”

  She lowered her body flush with his. “You’re serious. You’d do that for me?”

  He took her face in his hands. “I’m too old a dragon to waste time worrying about geography. Call me your lover, your husband, or say nothing at all. Make me your bodyguard or personal assistant. I don’t care. Just say we’ll be together, and I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  The warm flood of emotion that cascaded through her was overwhelming. She knew what this was. She’d seen it before. Been close to it before. But never allowed it in before. This was love. Unconditional love. “Yes. Oh yes, Nate.”

  Her lips crashed into his and her hips rose to position him under her. His mating trill vibrated against her lips as he slid inside. Oh, the feel of him. He stretched and filled her, lighting up every pleasure sensor in her body at once. The tips of her breasts brushed his chest, her hands braced against his ribs, and she started to move. He matched her thrust for thrust, their movements a dance of increasing need. Her skin tingled.

  Nathaniel’s hand brushed hot against her throat and skimmed down between her breasts. He lifted from the bed and caught one of her nipples in his mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue. Heat trailed around her ribs up her spine. His fingers were hot velvet.

  Moving above him like this, on top of him, she could almost pretend she could contain all that power between her thighs. But his magic was a formidable thing. She felt it build in the air around her. Tendrils of dragon enchantment enfolding her, sinking into her skin. She had none of her own magic now, but she could feel his pulsing inside her. The air was thick with it. It zinged along her skin, plucked at her nipples, circled her clit. Sweat broke out along the base of her neck and she tossed her head back and allowed the orgasm to crest, her inner muscles working overtime on his cock.

  He growled and fisted her hips, finding his own release and shuddering beneath her. His pleasure fed hers until she collapsed on top of him, tucking her face into his neck.

  When she was able to form words again, she whispered, “Will it always be like this?”

  “Always.”

  “When will you go to Paragon to help Raven and your brothers?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No. It’s too dangerous in your current state. But don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing. You stay here and do what you need to do to get ready for the show. Trust me, I’ll be back in time to watch you take the stage.”

  “Will you take me someday?” she whispered. “To Paragon. I’d love to see where you grew up.”

  That seemed to sober him and she watched ice creep behind his eyes. “Maybe, if it’s safe.”

  She kissed him on the cheek, climbed off him, and headed for the shower. She didn’t allow herself to slump until she was safely on the other side of the door. She did trust him. Nathaniel was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But anxiety wormed through her torso. It had been three centuries since Nathaniel had been to his home world. She didn’t fully understand the politics, but she understood the danger, and once he left, she wouldn’t take a deep breath again until he was back home.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Paragon

  Once they finished their meal, Raven was too tired for anything more, as was Gabriel. She thought she’d suffered in the dungeon, but Gabriel seemed exhausted. He hadn’t shared many details about what the empress had made him do that night, but it was clear she’d worn him down. Raven and Gabriel crawled into bed together, and she drifted to sleep almost instantly in the shelter of his arms.

  All too soon, a pounding came on the door. Raven opened her eyes, her lids feeling like sandpaper. Paragon’s suns had begun to rise. There wasn’t a clock in the room, but by the low placement of the suns in the sky, she knew it was very early. Her head told her she’d had less than four hour sleep. Beside her, Gabriel groaned.

  The pounding came more persistently. “Prince Gabriel, I will be forced to enter if you don’t
respond.”

  “What do you want?” he growled.

  “Empress Eleanor requests your presence in the dining room for breakfast.”

  “Tell her I need my rest. I can’t support her agenda if I’m exhausted.” Gabriel stared at Raven as he spoke and brushed his fingers along the side of her hair.

  The door opened, and Raven tugged the blanket to her chest although she was fully dressed in the tights and tunic Gabriel had given her to wear last night. It was more for a sense of security than anything else. Gabriel, on the other hand, was out of the bed so fast the breeze from his wings spreading blew back her hair.

  “Get out,” he growled to the guards. But the two men in red-and-black uniforms weren’t the only ones at the door. Eleanor herself strode in, wearing a red-and-purple gown that Raven thought belonged at a Met gala. It looked like it was constructed of woven, velvet-covered wire that formed a sort of cage around an underdress of silky material. It matched the red of Eleanor’s lipstick. Blood red.

  “What do you want?” Gabriel asked her.

  “I want your compliance,” she hissed. “I want your subordination! We start our day early in this kingdom, Gabriel. I can’t help that you stayed up late entertaining your…” She waved her hand toward Raven. “Whatever this is.”

  “She’s my wife!” he yelled. “My mate.”

  Eleanor rested her hands on her hips. “Impossible. Dragons are forbidden to mate with witches.” Her gaze coasted down her nose at Raven in disgust. “With or without their power.”

  “She is my mate and she will always be my mate,” Gabriel snapped. He lowered his body into a crouch and the temperature in the room rose several degrees.

  Eleanor inclined her head and stared at him with feigned pity. “Take her back to the dungeon,” she said to the men.

  “No!” Gabriel’s wings spread. He intercepted the first guard and slammed him into the wall. The man dropped into a heap like dirty laundry. The second guard stopped short, eyeing Gabriel tentatively.