Page 52 of The Dragon Queen #3
Could anything hurt more than watching someone you loved walk away from you?
My vision was blurred by tears, but my eye sockets ached as I strove to watch every step Brom took towards the trees. His dark hair, the black of his leather uniform, blended with the shadows of the nearby forest, the gloom swallowing him up until he was gone.
And I needed to let him go.
My brain told me that clearly, but my heart? It was ever a stupid organ, tugged to and fro by each one of my lovers, but never more than Brom right now. I didn’t follow his advice and return to my rightful place beside my king. If the archbishop himself stood before me, a golden tiara in his hands, ready to crown me queen, I’d have thrown it into the dirt and pushed past him, just like I did now. My feet skimmed across the earth as I ran towards the forest.
“Brom!”
That was the desperate hiss of a woman trying to hide the fact that she loved a man she shouldn’t, and that wouldn’t do.
“Brom!”
My voice rang out through the trees and beyond, announcing to all what I was doing. I didn’t care. Let them hear me, discover what we were to each other. Let the truth come out, my heart beat furiously. My brain had thoughts about that, but right now I pushed them aside like I did the underbrush as I ran forward.
Birds were woken from their sleep by my blundering steps, forced to take flight from their perches, but they weren’t my focus. There. Just the sound of a twig snapping had me spinning around in time to catch sight of Brom striding deeper into the forest. I quivered like a hound on the hunt, then went running after him.
Dodging between trees, jumping over fallen logs, it felt like he would always be out of my reach. Those same long, strong legs I sat between when in Obsidian’s saddle took him further and further away from me.
But I couldn’t let him succeed.
I broke into a run, my breath too noisy in my ears as I sprinted forward, until the point I finally stumbled upon him.
“Brom…”
He whirled around, face like thunder as he glared at me.
“You shouldn’t be here, Pippin. Go back to the fire, to Draven?—”
“No.” I shook my head, moving slowly now, like he was an easily startled horse, not my love. “No, I won’t.”
“You must.” I watched him smooth away that frown with some effort as he put away the man to become the commander. His hands were gentle as they came to rest on my arms, his thumbs brushing against my bicep just once. It was his voice that broke me, rich, deep, and calm now. “I know…” That little break in his speech, it gave me hope, but he forged on, completely under control. “I admit a selfish part of me is gratified that this hurts you as much as it does me, but you must see.” I pressed my face to his chest when he drew me close, the cool slick texture of his leather armour not what I needed right now. “This is for the best.”
“How can you say that?” I jerked my head away, staring into his eyes. “How can anything that’s ‘for the best’ hurt so damn much?”
“You know, Pippin.” He stroked my hair in reassuring sweeps. “Who knows the depths of pain better than you? Forced out of your own estate, treated like an animal by the family that was supposed to care for you. Nothing they did was fair. Life’s not like that, as well you know.”
“But what if it was?” Draven was still here, standing between us, because I was possessed by his spirit, daring to dream of a future that would never come. “What would happen if it could be?”
“It isn’t?—”
“What if it was? How would it be, Brom?” He sucked in a breath and I heard the rattle there, watched him shake his head. My hands clawed at his chest, as if I could tear his refusal to even consider that possibility out of him. “Brom?”
This was the last time I would ask. I’d shamed myself enough chasing after him, and perhaps he saw that. His gaze softened, that molten warmth there warming me far more effectively than a fire’s flames.
“Gods…” He looked out at the trees as if they would provide inspiration, though not for long. I wondered then how no one had guessed what was between us, because his eyes found mine just as mine did his, as if we couldn’t get enough of the other. “A quiet life. Would that be too boring after all this?”
“It sounds like heaven,” I replied earnestly. “A bed to sleep in. A fire to warm my hands on and a pantry full of simple food. If I never eat foie gras again, it won’t be too soon.”
That was the first genuine smile I’d seen on him all afternoon, and I bathed in the glow it inspired.
“Disgusting stuff,” he agreed. “I am no great cook, but I do make a decent lamb stew.”
“Heavenly,” I replied, urging him on because the desolation was pushed aside with each word.
“Flynn is a terrible cook but a surprisingly good baker. Apparently, he annoyed the cooks of his father’s estate so much they put him to work, baking the house’s bread.”
“So we won’t starve,” I said. “I’m no good in the kitchen, but I’m a dab hand with a needle. I can card wool and spin yarn, knit passably well.”
“So we’ll be well fed and have clothes on our backs.” His hand smoothed down my spine. “The dragons can bring down meat, even find some stray animals for us to create a small holding somewhere up in the north.”
“Beyond Dragon Home?” I asked.
The area was mountainous, bitterly cold, with difficult terrain to traverse. The people who lived there were few and far between, but notorious for being a secretive, clannish sort. A perfect place to hide. For just a moment, I could see it. A stone cottage we built with our own hands, the dragons helping quarry stone or perhaps we would find a suitable cave complex and carve out a living space for us and them there. Glimmer would rise to mate when she was old enough and bear her eggs in the depths of the cave, not troubled by greedy humans.
“Far enough away that they would give up the hunt for us after some time,” he said, obviously warming to the topic. His voice took on the rich resonance of a born storyteller. “We’d live a quiet life, a simple one.” He glanced back at me. “In some ways, a very difficult one.”
“Harder than the one we have now?” Despite being the one suggesting we indulge in this fantasy, I inserted that pain back into the conversation. “Surely ploughing a field and grinding grain wouldn’t be as hard as this?”
“Would it matter if it was?” There was something almost tentative about his question. “If each one of us was forced to work our fingers to the bone every day to keep us alive.” The backs of his knuckles grazed my cheek. “Our children.”
It felt like my heart seized in my chest. Every woman in Nevermere was raised to believe she would become a mother, and women of my class more than any other. It was the most useful thing we could do, give our husband heirs. Draven, the court, the general, the whole country would expect the same from me. The queen dragon produced more baby dragons to create more Royal Riders. The queen produced more princes to carry on his father’s name. But no one, literally no one, had ever suggested having a child with me just for the sake of it. An expression of the love we felt, brought into the world, our son, our daughter, to be cherished until they too found the other halves of their hearts. I couldn’t say a thing, my throat closing up as I considered something almost every commoner took for granted in our realm.
“If that’s not what you want?—”
“No.” I clung to his hand. “That’s not it. I do.” Because I could see us then, walking across a field of wheat we had planted, hand in hand with our children. Helping them traverse the bumpy soil, making sure they didn’t fall, as the last rays of sun turned everything to gold. “It’s just… No one’s ever asked me if I wanted to have children before.”
“I didn’t want to broach it in the first year of our marriage. Mother made me promise to give you a year to find your feet, enjoy married life first.” I let out a little chuckle at that, almost able to imagine her lecturing her son. “Then the world went to hell, and bringing a child into it seemed madness, but…” His hand slid down my tunic and I could feel the warmth of it even through the thick leather. “I admit I got some satisfaction from the idea of thinking of you swollen round with my child.”
His breath and mine rattled in the silence, getting louder and louder by the second. Great plumes of condensation formed from each pant, wreathing us in temporary clouds that fell apart seconds later. I knew what would happen when his head tilted sideways. Mine did too, because I knew this dance. He was mine and I was his, and damn what anyone else had to say about it. I claimed him just as he claimed me in the chapel that day, and if I was truly queen, then the world would have to learn to accept that.
Now you understand.
Glimmer’s voice was little more than a whisper inside my head, driven out as I tugged Brom’s head down. This was what we should’ve been doing, rather than tearing each other apart with harsh words. His mouth on mine, the way he took over, tugging me close, not allowing even a sliver of space between us. Taking over the kiss, forcing my lips apart as he let out a little moan, right before he plundered every inch of my mouth.
Mine. My Brom. I don’t know what the hell Draven was thinking, letting him go the first time, but I would not make the same mistake. I would either rule with my men by my side …
Or I wouldn’t rule at all.
Brom whipped off his jacket, lying it on the ground before placing me upon it. Always gentle, always considerate, right up until the point he wasn’t. He stared at me like I was the last woman on earth, as his hands smoothed over my shoulders. My chest arched up and into his hands, my nipples aching for his touch.
“Gods, Pippin, I was trying to be noble here and make the right choice, but damn me if I can this time. I let Draven walk away from me, but I can’t…” His fingers moved lightning fast as he unbuttoned my shirt, then my pants, peeling them off. “I can’t let you go.”
“Good.” I moved to do the same, stripping him bare, because despite the night chill, there couldn’t be a thing between us. My hand wrapped around his length and I felt the slick smear across the head, heard his hiss of appreciation. “Because you won’t get far without me. Glimmer would never allow Obsidian lift a wing to take you away from me, so…”
I pulled him down, reversing our positions so he lay across his jacket now and I straddled his hips. I moved slowly, conscious I had his entire attention as I shifted, letting his length slide along my seam. He parted my folds, my wetness coating him enough that I could rock my hips back and forth, feeling the start of the stimulation I needed.
“Give up any thought of nobly stepping aside.” I shifted then, feeling the head of his cock against my core, the initial stretch making me shiver. “And accept that you are mine.”
“Always…” he gasped as I slammed my hips down.