Page 123 of I Dream of Dragons

“I always aim to kill,” he says, and I snort. “I don’t play around.”

“That’s a lame excuse for your lack of stone skipping skills.”

“I know.” He grins. “You always got up to your knees in the water afterward and splashed me, called me a wet loser.”

“But you chose the prettiest pebbles for me.”

“You loved the ones with white striations. The ones they say are marked by the Eosphors’ touch as they move across the metal sky.”

“You told me of the old myths about them. About the fall of the Eosphors and their encounters with humanfolk.”

“I shared with you all my disjointed memories. Legends, images, songs. My favorite books.”

“You loved the Book of the Maze?—”

“—and the Snail, based on Theseus’ love for Ariadne, and Daedalos’ clever adventures in the labyrinth.”

“You said you recalled a woman who set you free from a prison,” I whisper. “A prison that felt like death.”

“You remember.”

“I remember everything you told me. She had freed you from a dark place, gave you back your name, you said. She saved your life.”

“Those are old memories, from another life,” he whispers. “They still don’t make sense.”

“Mars…” I trace his face with my eyes, with my fingertips. My hand remembers his shape. How did I ever think the king was Mars? His nose, his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw. The shape of his brows. The lashes on his eyes.

This is him. This is Mars. No doubt about it.

And, I finally realize, if it hadn’t been Mars, it wouldn’t have mattered. Jai has the same spirit in him. I would have loved him anyway, in the past or now, or in another life.

He is my soulmate. My fated mate. He was right. There can only be one.

But then someone clears their throat behind me, making me jump.

I’d forgotten another person was in the room until Daria says, “My lady, my lord, the king is coming.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

JAI

“No. Not now. I want to talk more, I want to know what happened back then,” she protests. “Why is our time together always cut short?”

I gaze at her, at my beloved, my mate, my beautiful thorn. I look into those gray eyes, the same dark eyes I used to know, now washed out by the sea, her pale face, the small freckles on her nose and cheeks that have turned golden. They flash like fishscales, distracting me.

She’s right, we need to talk about everything.

I take her small hand in mine, its shape so familiar, so dear. “I was on the riverbank when the king’s draks flew down and dragged me away. Someone must have seen it happen and spread the rumors of my death. I didn’t know, and I was out of my mind for a long time after.”

“And then? Later? Why didn’t you come back to me and tell me what happened? Why did you let me grieve?”

“Makhair… It wasn’t long after that the king took me with him on a raid… of your town. I hadn’t known. Hadn’t realized.” I grit my teeth. “Listen, the king is about to interrupt us any moment now. Does he know you’ve figured it out?”

“I told him,” she says fiercely, “that I know he lied to me. He’s coming here to get between us, isn’t he? He feels me through the mark he put on me.”

“Feeling your heart pounding, your bewilderment, your denial.”

“And my joy,” she whispers. “Does that mean… Does it mean he knew when I was in the sea, in a panic, and later, when I fell?”