Page 7 of Lady of Starfire (Lady of Darkness #5)

Eliza

T he Fire General stood staring out the window of her room, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Niara, Cethin’s most skilled Healer, had finally cleared her today. It probably helped that she’d been exhausted and sleeping for most of the last two days.

Two days.

It had been two days since a small unit had gone to collect Princess Ashtine and ended up leaving Cyrus and Neve there.

Early yesterday morning, Scarlett had taken Briar, Sawyer, and the Tyndells to the Water Court.

Sawyer had left his mirror that had been blessed by Anahita, goddess of the sea and water, with Azrael.

He would let them know when the exchange was done so that someone could Travel back to the continent and bring Ashtine here.

Eliza rotated her arm to look at the Source Mark that now adorned her skin.

She’d seen the dragon shifter once since he had drawn from her before leaving for that mission.

She’d woken tangled up with Razik, her head on his chest, the morning after he’d given her the Source Mark.

She’d gone to sleep in his tunic and her own loose-fitting pants.

And she’d woken up without the pants.

Razik was so godsdamn hot with all that dragon fire in his veins. She’d obviously gotten uncomfortable in her sleep, but for the love of Anala. Waking up without pants on next to him ?

Razik had grunted in annoyance when she’d not-so-accidentally elbowed him in the ribs as she’d extracted herself from his hold, immediately missing said dragon fire. She’d shoved her legs into the pants she’d found in a heap on the floor, looking up to find Razik smirking back at her.

“You said we would never have to speak of it again,” she’d grumbled.

She had been swimming in his tunic that was several sizes too large for her.

She wasn’t tiny, but she was fit from decades of intense training.

His faded grey tunic had hung down to her knees, and the sleeves fell over her hands.

She’d bunched her fingers around the fabric.

It was a nervous habit from childhood she’d never been able to completely overcome.

Razik had arched a brow. “Did I say anything?”

She’d scowled back at him. “Can you do whatever it is you need to do to fill your reserves so I can go back to my rooms?”

“How is your wound?” he’d asked instead.

She’d wanted to retort that it was not his concern, but she knew he’d spit some bullshit about it becoming his concern when she became his Source.

So instead, she’d let out a long-suffering sigh before pulling back the collar of his tunic to let him see that the bandage was still in place and not bleeding through.

“Are you hungry?” he’d asked, seemingly satisfied with the state of her wound.

She’d turned away when he’d climbed out of bed. She’d seen enough of his bare chest and torso in the last twelve hours. Had felt it beneath her fingers. Had slept on it. Had wanted more than that in the initial minutes after he’d given her the Mark. But she knew it hadn’t all been the Source bond.

“ Mai dragocen .”

The name had preceded a soft touch on her shoulder, and when she’d turned to face him, she’d let out another breath of relief to find he’d pulled a tunic on.

Without another word, she’d held out her right arm to him, tugging the sleeve up.

She’d watched him slice across the Mark and then his palm with a dagger.

Then she’d forced herself to stay completely still when their power coiled and merged as he drew her flames into his dragon fire.

She’d made herself hold his sapphire gaze the entire time, her teeth clenched tight.

And when it was done, she’d left his rooms without a backward glance.

He hadn’t sought her out when he’d returned, and she was glad.

She’d slept for the most part, other than that meeting with Sorin and Scarlett when they’d asked her to be Cassius’s Source.

And the meeting before that where she’d sat and listened to everything that had happened when they’d gone to the Southern Islands.

When Razik had Traveled so many of her family across the Edria Sea.

When he’d negotiated with the Maraan Prince and left Cyrus there.

When that meeting had ended, she’d tried to stay up and strategize with Sorin and the other Fae over what to do, not only about Cyrus but Ashtine and the Tyndells too.

She’d fallen asleep though, still drained and adjusting to having someone draw power from her.

No one had known then that she had become Razik’s Source.

They’d all assumed she was still recovering from the shirastone stab wound, and she had been. That just hadn’t been the entire story.

Eliza heard the main door of her rooms open a moment before a quick knock sounded on the door of her bedchamber. She didn’t need to ask who it was. She already knew.

“Just because I am your Source now does not mean you can simply come into my rooms uninvited,” she said tersely when the hinges of the door creaked.

“I assumed you would not let me in if I asked, considering you are avoiding me.” The low timbre of his voice made her feel things she didn’t want to feel, and she slipped her hands into her sleeves.

“What do you want?”

“That is a loaded question, Milady. You may want to rephrase it.”

She finally turned to face him, finding him leaning against her doorjamb in that infuriatingly casual way of his. His brown hair brushed his cheekbones, and he was in his usual black attire.

With a glare, she asked, “Why did you seek me out at this particular moment in time?”

His lips twitched, the only sign that he found her agitation amusing. “Niara said your wound is completely healed.”

“That does not explain what you are doing here.”

“You have slept a lot these past few days.”

“I was instructed to rest.”

“Because you have proven you follow instruction so well,” he retorted dryly.

“I follow instruction when it suits my needs.”

Razik’s eyes flashed, his pupils shifting to vertical slits for a fraction of a second before he got his power back under control. He cleared his throat, and her head tilted at the mannerism.

“I am going over to my father’s estate. I thought you might want to go with me,” he said.

“Why would you think that?”

“I thought you might want to get out of the castle after being cooped up for so long.”

“I do, but not with you.”

“I think there is something we need to discuss, and it would be better done at the estate rather than in a castle full of busybodies,” he countered.

“Unless you need to refill your power reserves, which can be done right here, there is nothing else we need to say to each other,” Eliza said, turning away from him and facing the window again.

“Wrong,” came a low growl in her ear. How could he move so silently that she hadn’t even heard him?

She was Fae. She should have been able to hear him no matter how quietly he moved.

She didn’t get a chance to reply when an arm slipped around her waist, and she felt herself being pulled through the air as he Traveled them.

Her bare feet landed on a soft rug, and she found herself in another bedroom. This one was smaller than his rooms at the castle, but it was definitely his. The same earthy colors accented the space. He spun her in his arms, forcing her to tilt her head up to look into his face.

She glared at him. “You cannot simply haul me to wherever you desire me to be.”

“Part of becoming my Source was agreeing to trust me,” he retorted, his voice low and tinged with anger. “When you avoid me, that is not trusting me. When you refuse to tell me you are upset with me, I cannot trust you.”

He released her, and she took a step back from him, folding her arms across her chest. “This Mark on my arm does not mean I immediately trust you.”

“No, but it does mean you actively try,” he countered. “It does mean that you do not hide in your rooms when you are upset with me. I do not play such games.”

“I am not playing games,” Eliza bristled.

Her finger came up, poking him hard in the chest. “I became your Source so you could better protect my family when you took them to the Southern Islands. Instead, you bartered with Alaric and left one of mine across the fucking sea.” Razik opened his mouth to say something, but she wasn’t done.

“Furthermore, I owe you nothing . I volunteered to be your Source. I chose it, and everything that comes with it. You do not get to tell me how I navigate that.”

“My negotiations were not personal, Eliza,” Razik said, watching her closely. “Those were political moves that needed to be made. I was there on behalf of my king and my kingdom. Negotiations are no place for emotions and feelings.”

“Then I guess that’s the difference between us,” she replied, lowering her hand. “My becoming your Source was entirely personal. It had everything to do with feelings and emotions and nothing to do with you. ”

“You are the leader of your Court’s armies, Eliza. I know you understand the reasoning behind how I proceeded with negotiations.”

“Of course I understand it. It does not mean I have to like it, and it does not mean I cannot be upset about it. Cyrus is across the sea, being held prisoner, enduring only the gods know what, and I can do nothing. The rest of my family are facing their own crises right now, so you are the only one left for me to irrationally rage at until I can plunge my sword through a seraph or Maraan.”

Her breathing had escalated during that verbal tirade, and she knew her cheeks were tinged with red in her anger.

“You are delightfully vicious,” was Razik’s only reply, that slight smirk returning.

“Why are you smiling? This is not funny,” she ground out.

“I am smiling because I was wrong.”

“About what?”

He strode past her, pulling the door open and gesturing her through. “You do trust me, mai dragocen .”

She snorted. “How in the realms do you figure that?”