Page 57 of The Dragon Warlord

River smells so fucking good. It sends my heart racing. I get dizzy with the scent of him sometimes.

“You’re right. At least it’s cool. I suppose there’s no denying that I’m his omega with or without a tattoo.”

I stare into his sapphire gaze. I’ve been meaning to talk to him, but I can’t find the words. The last thing I want to do is hurt him, but I want to violate him even less. “Riv, before …” I swallow and take a breath. “Before the beast came we—”

“It’s okay, Warlord.Please.I-I know it was a mistake.”

“You do?”

He nods, but is it sadness he’s feeling? Or regret? Both are terrible. Keeping his palm pressed flat against my heart with one hand, I brush the hair away from his face.

“You’ve come to mean a great deal to me in a short amount of time. I want to do right by you. The bond messes with us constantly. Among the many complications between us, it’s important that we don’t cross lines we can’t return from. Understand?”

“I understand, Warlord. It’s okay. I promise.” He offers a weak smile, but it’s genuine.

I nod. “Good. Oh, thank the Gods. I didn’t want to upset you. Getting that tattoo was already horrible enough, I don’t know why I chose to talk with you about it today.”

“You’re a glutton for punishment, Warlord,” he teases. “Should we go visit Ikara too?”

My lips wrinkle. I was the lucky person who had to break the news to Ikara about her mother because the dragon lord is lily-livered chicken. She beat on me and screamed and cried. It’s clear that her mother was hunted by that thing and if she could she’d find a way to kill them all. In the end, I was glad to be there for her, even if I still believed it was something her father should have done.

“She has gone awfully quiet. Maybe we’d better check on her.”

But neither of us moves, enjoying the simple tranquility of being close.

8

River

Idon’t mean to adore him, but I do. It can’t be helped any more than I can pull the moon from the sky. But we are forbidden now because he believes things that aren’t true. He thinks we’re related just for starters, though, I don’t think he believes that one so much as he’s trying to convince himself that it’s true. It’s pretty clear that we aren’t related, easily proven through dragon medicine.

I don’t argue that delusion. He needs it so I let him keep it.

The one that’s harder is our bond because it’s more difficult to prove false. Watching how he struggles with Father, his alpha, I can understand why he doesn’t want to touch me in a non-platonic way. The truth is the bond does fuck with your head to some degree. It enhances sensations that are already there and any that develop over time. Any time a person is hit with an onslaught of them, it’s overwhelming. The bond increases someone’s worst or best emotional day a hundredfold.

I speculate that he doesn't want to believe that he could feel anything but hate for his alpha. Father certainly has not done anything to endear himself to Tristan. But the situation is messy and interferes with how he views our situation. He assumes that I should feel the same way he does.

I can’t force it, or I’d be doing what he’s trying not to do to me.

Even if neither of those things was a concern, he’s married, marrying another, and hoping to somehow have a relationship with yet another. Bringing me into the mix would require a conversation or three anyway so it’s best to wait until he’s been home to see his men again.

And so, I adore him from afar. It’s enough for me. Even if all we ever are is this, it’s more than I could have ever hoped for. I live for moments, like now, when he’s trying not to be a possessive brute, but he is a possessive brute all the same.

“This is my omega,” he says to the thousands of warriors on his training field. “There are strict rules for engaging with him.”

A gentle smile touches my lips and my pure love of him is not a secret.

Father has finally allowed him to meet with his army and while Tristan will never say it, I know that the extra pep in his step is because he’s earned this. Father thinks he’s ready.

It’s um … it’s been four months in total though. Not due to Tristan’s lack of hard work. It was beautiful to watch Tristan set his mind to something. Failure didn’t deter him, it pushed him. We practiced from sunup to sundown some days until he wore me out. He wanted me to teach him everything I know about dragon magic and using his sword in combination. He’s been teaching me how to fight like an Elf. Together we’re creating a blended style.

We hit the books too and Tristan has taken the time to get to know the dragons of The Tower. The dragon lord won’t let him make friends, but he can get to know them from a distance.

What kept Tristan from the training fields was, well, Tristan. He’s struggled to accept the dragon lord as his alpha. Not-so-secretly, I'm glad that’s not me and Tristan. He might harbor guilt about how we came to be bonded, but he accepts us up and until the lines he won’t cross.

Today, Father had us meet him in the gardens of Tristan’s war room where the tall sarsen stone pillars had been sitting dormant. He activated a private portal just for the Warlord that we’ll use to get to and from the mountains where his army lives. There are other ones that we’ll have clearance to use as well, but the private one is considered a gift.

In a way—though Tristan isn’t likely to acknowledge it—the private portal is Father’s way of spoiling his omega.