Page 137 of The Dragon Warlord

Tristan still hates that he can’t remember any of that day, but I’ve told him the details enough times that he’s got a vivid picture in his mind.

“Today is a celebration. We’ll work hard today in honor of my omega.”

Everyone holds up their glass. My eyes sparkle at Tristan.

Soon after that, we’re on the field and the sharp clang of swords hits the air, signaling the commencement of the first arduous minutes of our training day.

* * *

When we’re alone, there isn’t a lot of time we spend without being connected in some way. If he’s sitting at his desk, he likes me on the desk so he can put a hand on my thigh. If we’re training, we like drills where we’re back-to-back, touching, or we find ways to graze hands. I find ways to run my fingers through his hair.

We leaned into our bond. It’s a living and moving thing between us. We don’t need to think about it as much as we used to. It’s part of us now and we dance with it as a guide. It’s something dragons understand but are still required to learn as we move through a bonding relationship with their partner. Each bond asks for different things. You lean into it, or it will rage against you.

It’s windy. He’s standing on the veranda with his hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he sometimes does for comfort. His black hair whips like a wild thing and his jaw is set like stone. I know what Tristan’s thinking about.

“You’re worried we won’t be understood when we go home,” I say, saddling up beside him and sliding under his arm. He squeezes me to him and kisses my crown.

“I know we won’t be, Riv.”

“The guys, your men—”

“Our men. Just because you’re not romantic with them—and I can’t promise you will be—that doesn’t mean they're not yours too. We’re a family.”

I do consider them my family.

“Our men already understand us some and they’d be willing to understand us more.”

“They would, but it might take some adjustment. What if we gave them that time and didn’t … do you think we could cool it a bit? Just at first.”

That is something neither of us has much control over, how close the bond wants us to be. Worry pools in my gut. If Tristan’s concerned, then there’s still a sliver of doubt in his mind about us and the bond. Something he thinks his men will take issue with. Not about us being together. They were Team River! Baya laughed at him.

He’s worried about showing him the way we are together.

Maybe he just needs to hear them say that he’s not a monster taking advantage of the willing dragon addicted to his cock, one more time. I wish he’d look closer at the bond between him and his alpha, but he avoids it and of course, that’s the area Father spoils him by shielding him from the difficult aspects of their bond because it also makes things easier for me. Father knows how to manipulate their bond—most of the time—so that Tristan only has to worry about being his omega.

“Whatever you need, Alpha, but we’re not ending this, are we?”

“Definitely not.” There’s a low growl rumbling in his chest like he gets when someone’s getting too close. It’s reassuring. “You’re mine, River. You do remember what I did to the last creature who decided to take you from me, yes?”

I shiver. I do remember, and I’m glad he did it, but it was gruesome.

“No one’s taking you from me, not even me.”

25

Return To Mortouge

River

They marvel over the changes in him. It must be strange for them. It’s only been six weeks for everyone here, but a decade has gone by for Tristan and me. We’ve changed. Him most of all. He’s harder. His men will bring him back, but until they do the dragon Warlord burns through him.

The room pauses for a brief moment when he enters. He’s larger. It’s been ten years of commanding a presence he can never allow to falter. His hair is long, of course, but it’s more buoyant, filled with Tower air, swirling around him like dragon tails when he moves, settling only for brief moments until he moves again. His gaze is predatory, used to preparing to strike first and last. He brims with authority.

I waltz into the common room from my room.

Tristan’s eyes snap to me and I know in an instant that Corrik will figure us out. There’s too much in his gaze. Longing. Love. Adoration. Possession. A lust so spellbinding it’s getting my dick hard. His fingers twitch to pull me into his lap.

Living with dragons as the dragon Warlord, Tristan’s had to let the animal side of him rip free. You can only deal with a tower full of dragons as a dragon. Being that here won’t work. They don’t know our ways. Elves might understand better than humans would, but Elves are not dragons.