Page 40

Chapter 40

“THIS IS A BAD IDEA,” I tell Aeson, who’s standing a handful of feet away from me in the center of the ballroom.

The other dancers have cleared the way, and all eyes are on us as we wait for the music to start.

“I thought bad ideas were your bread and butter,” he replies nonchalantly. “What’s one more to add to the list of many?”

I’m pretty sure that’s a dig at my butter knives, but I’ve got bigger things to worry about right now than defending that decision, again , so I begrudgingly let it slide.

“I don’t dance,” I argue, plastering a fake smile on my face as I look around at everyone watching and try not to spiral. “And that’s not my mulish nature talking, I can’t. I have no idea how to do this,” I squeak, gesturing between us.

His hard features thaw infinitesimally. “If you can fight, you can dance,” he assures me, but it’s not comforting in the slightest.

Pretty sure if I haul off and hit him, The Horde will hang my entrails from the beasts decorating the columns of this ballroom.

Shit! The butterflies!

I can’t let him get near me, or these drakes are going to have my head!

“Treat me like an opponent,” Aeson encourages, oblivious to my newfound dread. “Mirror me like you’re trying to get a feel for my fighting rhythm and stance, and then counter my moves. I step forward, you counter by stepping back. I step to the side, you follow. I’ll tell you with my hands and arms where I want you to go. All you have to do is follow.”

“And that’s where we have a problem,” I start, but music suddenly fills the air and there’s no more time to argue.

Aeson bows and then he steps toward me. I do exactly as he said and instantly step back, countering his move. A smirk cracks the facade of the commander’s stony mask.

“I need to be touching you before you start mirroring my steps,” he tells me, like I misunderstood his initial instructions.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “I know how it works. But you can’t come any closer.”

Ignoring my warning, Aeson advances, and once again I dodge him.

“Claws,” he rumbles in warning. “Stop running.”

“I’m not running. I’m keeping you from being attacked by my dress and me from being mobbed by The Horde for hurting their precious scion.”

“I can handle your sharp edges, Claws. Now be still before you set off my prey drive and we give the audience a very different kind of show.”

I trap a whimper in my throat as his words crackle through me like an electrical current intent on lighting up every cell in my body.

“Aeson,” I contend as he draws closer. But I don’t move. “I’ll cut you. I’ll destroy your suit. I’ll hurt you,” I plead for him to listen, but I don’t know if I’m still talking about the butterflies or if I’m warning him about…me.

His features darken with desire, and his eyes flare with intent as they drink me in, but he doesn’t stop walking toward me, like he’s all too ready to breach the last of my defenses.

“Cut me. Hurt me. Destroy me. I’ll happily bleed for you, Ever. Every drop is yours already.”

And then he’s in front of me, pulling me against his chest. His palm presses against the small of my back while the other wraps around my hand. The butterflies converge, tearing his suit and slashing at his hands. Gasps and murmurs ring out around us, but Aeson doesn’t even flinch, his blazing gaze steadily fixed on mine. He gives me a second to adjust to the press of his body against mine, while razor sharp wings do their worst. And then Aeson starts to lead me, and for once, I follow.

He breathes me in deeply and holds me like a newly discovered treasure that he has no intention of ever letting go. I get lost in the feel of his body guiding mine as we stride and spin across the dance floor, his bright blue eyes tugging on the tethers between us until the lines blur where he ends and I begin.

Is this the bond?

Is this what surrender could feel like?

A butterfly slashes across his cheek, and I tense and try to pull away, but I only manage to put a few inches between us before he stops me.

“I’m ready for my answers now,” he tells me, his voice low and paved with gravel. Sensing my immediate hesitation, he strokes a thumb up my spine and holds me tighter. “We’ll do this all night until I’m either a pile of bloody ribbons on the ground or you’ve answered my questions.”

Distress crashes into dismay as they both rush to the forefront of my mind. Another butterfly draws blood through a cut on the arm of his suit, but I find myself suddenly less bothered by his plight.

“Fine,” I concede. “I’d like a few answers myself.”

Aeson raises a single eyebrow, the look on his face an invitation and a challenge.

“Why didn’t you tell me that we’d formed a bond?” I start, cutting right to the quick.

His full lips flatten as he considers me, and his eyes rove over my face like he’s debating whether to answer.

“At first it was because I didn’t trust you,” he finally admits after he glides us into a small circular pass around the floor that earns him several more rips in his jacket, a small gash on his chin, and half a dozen new cuts on his hands. The startled sputtering and clucking of the surrounding crowd begins to sound like white noise before it fades altogether. “I couldn’t tell if you were pretending not to know what was happening or if you genuinely had no idea. I decided to let it play out.”

“Is that why you put me in your rookery, or was it really just for my protection?” I ask as I stare into his now stormy blue eyes. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to this question, but I want to see just how forthcoming the commander is going to be.

“I knew from the second I tasted your blood in Lairwood,” he confesses. “That’s why you’re in my rookery and in our mating suite.”

Shocked, I draw back and stare at him. I thought my injuries in the dungeon were what set things in motion, but Lairwood? I study every inch of his face as he weaves and twirls us across the floor. He doesn’t let me stumble or overthink what I’m doing. In his hands, I look like I’ve spent a lifetime in ballrooms doing nothing but this.

I sigh. He’s gorgeous, capable, and dastardly cunning. It’s a lethal combination I wish I didn’t find so fucking enticing.

“I didn’t request a meeting with your father or try to broker any kind of a deal,” I tell him, deciding it’s best to get ahead of the questions he’s already asked me. This way I can offer him enough slices of the truth to make him think he has the whole pie. “He just showed up. It was completely unexpected and I have no idea where he came from, but he wanted to talk. So we did.”

“And where were your guards?” he asks, evidently troubled by the possibility that one of his Wing kept something from him.

“I was in the keep alone; they weren’t with me.”

Aeson draws back this time. His eyes are wide with shock but banked with fury. “And how the fuck did you manage that?” he all but growls.

“That, I’m not going to answer,” I tell him calmly but firmly.

His beautiful blue eyes narrow on me, and he pulls me even tighter against his body. A sharp crackle fills my senses and then a tinkling crash draws my attention. I track the noise and find several crystal butterflies on the ground, each with a small trail of smoke rising from their now inert bodies.

I glare up at Aeson, my pique rising even further at the satisfied smirk stretching wide across his face.

“And what do I get to fry when you don’t answer one of my questions?” I ask, virulent syrup dripping over every syllable as I fight the possessive need to protect my remaining fluttering protectors.

He contemplates the question for a second. “For every question I don’t answer, you can have one weapon of your choosing,” he offers, and I almost stumble in shock.

“Done,” I immediately agree, and he laughs at my overeager display. If it gets me weapons though, he can laugh at my expense all the way to the armory.

“Why did you make a deal with my father?” he starts, but I shake my head.

“No, it’s my turn.”

He gives me a conciliatory nod and makes a show of closing his mouth. A mouth I find myself transfixed by until he clears his throat, and I shake off my sudden stupor.

“How is a bond completed? Is it just fucking or is there more to it?”

Aeson chokes on air, and our steps slow briefly while he collects himself. His eyes are like shimmering aquamarines when he looks back down at me. His entire countenance begins to smolder, and he makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a purr as his gaze drops to my lips.

“Tell me you’re mine, Claws, and we’ll leave right now and go somewhere I can show you, at length, exactly how a bond is completed.” He nuzzles my neck, brushing his lips up the side of my throat and skimming them across my jaw before he pulls back to avoid losing an eye to a razor-winged assailant.

Desire pools between my thighs, and I bite back a whimper. If he keeps this up, blood isn’t going to be the only thing dripping all over the floor by the time this dance is done.

“Answer the question,” I demand breathily, ignoring the ache in my core and the fire in his eyes.

Aeson inhales long and slow, scenting me, and the low groan he releases is slightly pained, entirely too satisfied, and edged with possession. His hand on my back dips lower until the tips of his fingers caress the tops of my ass cheeks. My nipples become stiff, sensitive peaks against his chest as we spin and slink into a third pass along the dance floor. Warm blood trickles from his cuts onto me, and it feels like a sensual caress as it drips slowly down my back and arms.

“Fucking is part of it,” he finally answers. “Blood also has to be exchanged. There’s a magical aspect to it that our dragons have sole control over, and there are vows, although those are more ceremonial than essential. But once you’ve done all of that, you’re bonded for life.”

I nod in understanding and grow contemplative. When I agreed to mate Aeson, I thought there would be time before I’d have to fulfill my end of the bargain—at least as long as it took to plan the ceremony—but this connection between us changes things. If the drive to bond progresses as quickly as Lorn said, Aeson and I need to mate sooner rather than later, which means I need to re-think the timeline for phase two with the Syphons.

I focus back on the scion and answer his question.

“I thought your interest in me was based solely on political advantage,” I explain. “I was willing to trade that currency for something that I wanted, something that only your father could help me access. I thought it was nothing more than a mutually beneficial arrangement. I didn’t know about the bond or what it meant. But, knowing doesn’t change my decision. I gave my word and I stand by it.”

“And what is it that you wanted so badly that you were willing to trade yourself for?” he demands, and I can’t tell if his question is laced with indignation or intrigue.

I swat away a butterfly that’s aiming for the dragon mark on his neck. I study the lines that come together to form flickers of flame, and trace one with the tip of my finger until it disappears under the collar of his slashed shirt. Goose bumps skitter up his throat, and a pleased hum sneaks out of me. I like touching him like this, even though I shouldn’t.

“I’ll answer that question, but not here. I know your suit keeps everyone outside of a certain radius from hearing what we’re saying, but I won’t risk it. Ask me again when we’re back in the rookery,” I tell him, and he dips his chin in understanding.

“What does my dragon feel like to you?” I ask offhandedly.

“Ah, ah, ah, you didn’t answer my last question, so it’s still my turn,” he contends.

I huff out a laugh and gesture for him to proceed. We stop dancing and Aeson looks down at me, his countenance reverential and his stare earnest.

“Ever Tenebrae. Will you accept my bond and become my mate?”

Surprise jolts through me at his words. I stare up at him confused. I just told him I stand by my agreement with the king, meaning his question is unnecessary. But as I study his fervent stare, I realize this gesture isn’t about that. Our relationship so far has been rooted in mistrust, posturing, and testing the waters, but we don’t have to continue down that path, not if we don’t want to.

He’s giving us a chance to recalibrate and move forward from a place of mutual understanding and sincerity. He’s giving me the illusion of choice, even though we both know it doesn’t really exist, and it warms the dark recesses of my broken little heart.

I smile up at the commander, but he must see the tinge of sadness in it, because a flicker of apprehension alights in his gaze.

“I will accept your bond and become your mate. But you shouldn’t fall for me, Aeson,” I both confess and warn in the same breath. “Things would be easier for both of us if we just stayed enemies.”

He considers me for a long moment, studying my face like he knows it well enough to follow its clues to help uncover what he wants to know.

“We were never truly enemies, Claws,” he tells me gently, and his fingertips whisper just as gently across my back as he traces the ridges of my spine.

I fight off a shiver and blink away the spell his intense gaze is trying to cast on me.

“Maybe not,” I agree with a shrug. “But give it time. I’m sure we’ll get there.”

The music stops and the crowd around us begins to applaud. A drop of blood from Aeson’s cheek spills onto mine, and it slips down my face like a tear, which feels oddly symbolic.

“That doesn’t scare me, Claws. I like a challenge,” he professes, the glint in his gaze eager and determined.

“I’m counting on it,” I murmur, and then I step out of his arms and walk away.