A Kiss of Air & Fire (Darkstone Academy)

M enelaus shook his head, looking regretful. “This is aerie business. I cannot undermine a clutch-mother’s authority over her hatchlings.”

Lady Aeolia snorted in reply to Boreas, curls of smoke rising from her nostrils. “You should have thought of those things before you betrayed my trust,” she spat. “If you choose to remain here, you will live as an outsider, a pariah.” Her golden eyes fixed on the young Wind-Walker with the merciless gaze of a predator. “You are nothing now, just a friendless, kinless, homeless vagrant.”

Boreas bowed his head, chin pressing into the grass. On his own, he was a brash, powerful Dragon. But when compared to his mother, I saw he was only half-grown. It might be years before he reached his full potential as a Wind-Walker and could successfully challenge an adult as large and powerful as Aeolia.

Then horror washed over me as I saw Jacinthe stride forward to stand at Boreas’ head. My daughter had always had a hot temper. Now, I saw her clenched fists and flushed face and knew she was in the grip of a monumental rage.

“How dare you?” she snarled fearlessly up at the Wind-Walker towering over her. “How dare you treat your own son with such cruelty, such heartlessness? Boreas has done nothing to deserve this!”

Oh, Divine Mother, Aeolia is going to eat her! I half-rose from my seat to spring to Jacinthe’s defense.

Menelaus’ arm around my shoulders suddenly felt like a bar of iron.

“Peace, Jonquil,” he murmured. “Aeolia won’t hurt our fledgling.”

“I have to help her!” I whispered frantically.

Menelaus, looking maddeningly calm, shook his head. “Jacinthe has a Wind-Walker’s spirit. Let her fight for Boreas. She’ll only be the stronger for it.”

I stared at him in disbelief. He’d never seemed less human than right now. “Fight Aeolia? How?” My voice cracked.

Thanks to the events of the past fortnight, I knew how brave and strong Jacinthe was. She could wield Fire magic. And break supposedly unbreakable restrictor collars.

Even so, how could she prevail over a fully grown Wind-Walker who dwarfed and intimidated even Boreas?

“Have faith,” Menelaus said in a low voice. “I’ll intervene if things get out of hand.”

I felt anything but reassured. But his confident demeanor convinced me to wait and see. I settled warily back down onto the bench to watch the confrontation… and prepared a defensive spell. Just in case.

“You presume to question my authority as clutch-mother, human?” Aeolia’s crest bristled with indignation. “I repudiate the aerie mark my hatchling so foolishly gave you. You are an outsider and have no say in the affairs of Argestes Aerie.”

I winced.

“Boreas is my mate!” Jacinthe declared fiercely, her gaze never wavering from Aeolia’s. “His happiness is my concern. I won’t stand by and watch you cast him aside like a piece of refuse.”

My daughter had been just as fierce when she protected her younger sisters from the insults of the village bully. Despite my worry for her safety, I couldn’t help admiring her unbroken spirit.

I watched anxiously to see how Aeolia would react to Jacinthe’s scolding.

To my relief, Menelaus’ advisor seemed amused, rather than insulted.

“Very well. He is yours now,” Aeolia declared. “Take him and do with him whatever you wish. I’m done with him. He’s no hatchling of mine. Not any longer.”

She crouched and leaped into the sky. A few wingbeats brought her to the top of the canyon’s cliffs. She banked and disappeared from sight.

Jacinthe reached up and pressed her shaking hands to Boreas’ great, scaly muzzle.

They spoke for a few moments in low voices.

And then his wings unfolded and wrapped around my daughter, holding her against his feathered chest.

It looked like everything was going to be all right.

Weak with relief, I leaned against Menelaus’ solid body and felt him squeeze my shoulders gently.

“Audience is over for the day,” he announced in a voice that carried to every part of the crowded amphitheater. “If anyone has a petition they want to present, come back tomorrow afternoon.”

He snapped his fingers and a fuzzy young Wind-Walker scurried over to us.

“Show my hatchling and her companions to the guest caves,” he ordered the chick.

It cocked its head and studied me from obsidian-dark eyes, then bobbed its head and hopped its way over to where Jacinthe and Boreas still stood.

As the little Wind-Walker led Jacinthe and the others away, my daughter glanced back at me inquiringly.

Menelaus laced his fingers through mine, and his palm burned against my skin. He showed no signs of releasing his hold… and I didn’t want him to.

“Go on, dearest,” I said to Jacinthe, my face heating. “Menelaus and I have some catching up to do.”

My heart pounding, I watched my daughter and the others leave. Mage Armand winked at me before he hobbled away. He’d supported my relationship with Menelaus from the very beginning… and paid a steep price for it.

When they were out of sight, Menelaus rose, drawing me up with him. “Come, my mate. Let me show you my aerie.”

* * *

Menelaus’ living quarters at the royal aerie were carved into the living tufa of the canyon wall.

As he pushed aside a painted leather curtain and led me inside, he snapped his fingers.

A rush of Fire magic tingled my skin and dozens of lamps instantly sprang to life, banishing the darkness in soft golden light.

I found myself in a spacious, high-ceilinged chamber floored with stone tiles and richly furnished with plush, colorful imported carpets and enormous, Dragon-sized stuffed cushions.

My heart was pounding again, echoing in my ears, deafening me. My chest felt tight with anticipation, as if I’d laced my corset too tightly this morning. I couldn’t draw a full breath.

“Are you hungry, my mate?” Menelaus asked, moving to stand in front of me.

I shook my head. “N-not for food,” I managed.

Why did I feel so shaky? Every part of me trembled with the force of my racing heart, and my knees wobbled.

“Ah.” Menelaus smiled and put his hands on my shoulders. The heat of his touch burned through the thin silk of my gown.

I thought I might faint from the intensity of wanting him. How was it possible to feel so alive after all this time? After everything we’d lost?

“Let me show you my home.”

He led me through a succession of chambers, each large enough for his Dragon shape.

The last room was the smallest, though still large by human standards. It was furnished with pieces built to human scale and draped in soft, vibrantly colored fabrics. The enormous bed looked downy and inviting, especially after spending a sleepless night on a dirt floor.

“I made this for you as soon as the border guards reported your return,” he said. “I hope it’s to your liking.”

“You created this for me? In less than a day?” I asked, shame sweeping through me like a wave over sand. I’d spent the past two decades married to another man, bearing his children and forcing myself to forget my old life. “You never doubted me, even after I spent years hiding from everyone?”

“Never,” Menelaus declared.

His loyalty made me feel small and very humble. I bowed my head and looked away.

He put a finger under my chin and gently raised my face to his.

“I’ve missed you, Jonquil.” His rumbling voice shook me to my core. “Half my soul was missing until today.”

My throat seized up. I could only nod. His admiring gaze made me feel beautiful and desirable, as if no time had passed, as if the years apart had only intensified our longing.

As if savoring the moment, he cupped my cheeks between his large, burning hands and bent his head to me with aching slowness.

I shook with the anticipation of his kiss, with the need to be his once again. His .

His gaze met mine, fierce and intent. He brushed aside a stray lock of my hair with the same tenderness I remembered from when we were young. How could his touch still make me shiver like this? How could I still want him so badly?

Even before his lips touched mine, I felt the air between us hum with heat, with the fierce burn of long-denied desire.

Captured in the web of Beltrán’s vile compulsion spell, I’d been ensorcelled to believe I was in love with the duke.

But it had been a vile illusion, nothing more. What I felt for Menelaus was honest and true. The voice of my heart and soul, free of dark influence.

Menelaus’ lips found mine. I melted into him, my thoughts dissolving into pure sensation.

He kissed me with a passion that consumed my every doubt. His touch was gentler than I remembered, but still enough to make my skin burn with the need for more.

Time folded in on itself as I lost myself in his kiss and the hard certainty of his embrace. I was aware of nothing but the hunger of my heart and pulsing heat between my thighs.

His arms around me were strong and sure, and I wound my arms around his neck as if to anchor my spirit to his.

I panted shamelessly as his hands stroked my back and waist, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

How had I lived so long without this? Without him? He made me feel young again. He made me new.

I pulled him toward the waiting bed with urgent, desperate hands. He chuckled against my mouth and we moved in step like dancers, never breaking our kiss or our embrace.

When the bed frame hit the back of my legs, Menelaus unfastened my bodice with an aching tenderness that filled me with hope and want. He let the embroidered shell drop to the floor, then unwrapped me like a treasure, freeing me from layers of silk and ruffles. When I stood in a pool of stained green fabric, his large, blunt-tipped finger deftly unhooked my corset.

My breath caught at the gentle, teasing caress of his touch through the thin, almost transparent fabric of my chemise.

I was utterly in his power. I fought the sudden urge to scream and push Menelaus away.

But I loved Menelaus. And he was not Beltrán de Norhas. And I was no longer under that foul spell that had compelled my obedience.

Even so, my heart was pounding with terror as well as desire.

This is my choice , I reminded myself. I want this .

Oblivious to my internal struggles, Menelaus pulled the chemise over my head, baring me completely to his gaze.

My hands instinctively went to my belly, covering the stretch marks.

“Oh, you are beautiful, my mate.” There was nothing but admiration in his voice, and nothing but desire in his eyes.

I closed my eyes as his burning mouth kissed my throat and traveled down to my bare shoulder, as if reclaiming the long-lost landscape of my body.

Arousal rose higher inside me, the growing ache between my legs building with every caress, pushing out my doubts and worries.

I reached out and fumbled with his clothing, eager to find the warm, bare skin beneath and explore him the way he was exploring me. I needed him more than I needed breath.

I thought I might be consumed by it. I wanted to be consumed by it. I wanted to be his, entirely, absolutely, completely.

When he was finally naked, he lifted me onto the bed. I fell back against the pillows, breathless with wanting him.

He slid over me and settled himself between my parted thighs with a hungry grin.

“There’s no perfume that smells as sweet as my mate’s desire,” he rumbled, and lowered himself to kiss my breasts.

His hot, heavy body pressed me into the mattress as his sharp teeth nibbled my tender skin, raising a shiver of delight that raced down my spine.

Then, from nowhere, a rush of terror struck me like a rogue wave, knocking the wind out of me.

What’s happening to me? I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even choke out “Stop,” as panic choked me.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. My very soul was frozen with fear.

Everything around me turned frantic and strange. It moved too fast and not at all.

Suddenly I was back in the ship’s cabin, pinned beneath Beltrán de Norhas and drowning in the scent of the sandalwood pomade he favored.

How many nights had I spent like this, in the thrall of his foul compulsion charm and helpless to resist?

I thought I’d escaped him, but here he was, pinning me down as he prepared to take his pleasure.

My blood ran cold as he held me in an unbreakable grip, smiling and mouthing sweet nothings in a horrible parody of love, all the while twisting my will to match his own.

I had no way to fight, no way to stop what he was doing to me.

He’s not really here , I tried to tell myself. I was safe in the Royal Aerie with Menelaus , not back on that ship with Beltrán.

I’m a guest of the Wind-Walkers, not the captive of a man who stole everything I was.

But the memories still dragged me under relentlessly, drowning me in terror.

The bedchamber’s walls closed in around me, transforming into a small, dimly lit ship’s cabin. Cold sweat prickled on my skin, and my limbs trembled uncontrollably.

My vision blurred with tears, distorting the soft candlelight into menacing glares. My heart raced, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Dizziness overwhelmed me.

I desperately needed space, needed to escape the body pressing me down into the bed. But just like before, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t free myself.

Even in Menelaus’ arms, I was still Beltrán’s prisoner. His toy. His puppet.

“My love?” Menelaus raised himself on his elbows and gazed down at me. “What’s wrong?”

Panic finally broke through my strange paralysis. I let out a strangled scream and tried to push Menelaus off me.

He rolled away instantly, freeing me from his weight.

I curled into a ball, drawing my knees to my chest, and tried to breathe.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Menelaus is safe. He loves me. He wants to help me.

Over and over again, I reminded myself that I was no longer in Beltrán’s clutches, but in the arms of my protector.

Slowly, the wild panic loosened its hold on me. Bit by bit, my breath steadied. My heartbeat slowed.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” I managed. “You did nothing wrong. It was—it was just a bad memory.”

Gently, so gently, Menelaus curled his large body around me, and took me into his arms again.

His love and care for me felt like the wind—fierce and gentle all at once, sweeping me up and holding me close. It wrapped around my heart and my soul, gathering up every loose, unmoored part of me.

I was unworthy of it. And of him.

He cradled me, warm and comforting and undemanding, and I felt myself dissolve into him. His body next to mine was strength and warmth and kindness. It was everything I’d lived without for so long.

“Jonquil, my mate,” he murmured, his breath stirring my hair.

The comfort he offered terrified me. Is this real? Can it last? How can it possibly last when I’m this damaged? This broken?

If he finds out how ruined I really am, will he still love me?

His hand stroked my hair, my cheek, and the kindness of it overwhelmed me.

My self-control shattered like a dropped vase. I sobbed like a child.

And he just held me, stroking my hair. Patient. Undemanding. He was simply there, so steady, so certain.

When I finally got hold of myself again, Menelaus turned me toward him and studied my ravaged face.

Then he leaned in and kissed away my tears, so gently I thought my heart would burst, and held me as if I were made of blown glass.

“My love, who hurt you like this? What happened to you after your parents arrested me?”