Page 61 of The Dragon Warlord

Being an overbearing alpha is enough of a reason. Tristan understands that now, because of our bond.

“Do you think he might … if I asked?” He leaves the words out, afraid to utter them. He misses his other family every day and has been asking to see them for years. A lot at first, but less since it annoys and sometimes enrages the dragon lord.

Biting my lip, I turn toward him so that I can see the desperation in his sapphire eyes. He misses them more than usual today and it’s usually a lot. His heart’s aching. “I wish I could tell you yes, Warlord.”

He nods and closes his eyes again. I watch the rise and fall of his chest for a little while until it’s clear how knackered he is. It inspires me to get washed up so that we can turn in for the evening. Father makes him work hard. Too hard if you ask me. I know Father’s end goal is to have a Warlord capable of saving the world but give the guy a day off.

At least Tristan loves being Warlord.

I let myself yawn. It’s a bit of a sneaky trick, but if he sees that I’m tired, he’ll move a little faster toward bed. And I am tired.

“And there’s my sign. Okay, hurry up. I’m washing too. We both need sleep,” he says right on cue.

When we exit the wooden wash basins, I turn again so that my eyes don’t catch anything and give me the hard-on from hell. His scent alone is sometimes all it takes. I don’t need a wet, naked visual of him, especially with his muscles pumped from the hunt.

I quickly wrap my own towel around me to hide my cock, which has decided to swell halfway. I’ve never had this problem. Even when I was a teenage dragon. I assumed I had low libido. I don’t know how the fuck to deal with it and I might have to ask one of my siblings, which will be embarrassing, but I’ve got to do something about it. It’s already reached the out-of-hand stage.

It’s a miracle that we make it back to our tent without too many cries for the Warlord. He’s always needed by everyone and feels obligated to answer each call. I don’t mean to growl at Major Sinclair, but I do, and it does the job, hurrying the man along.

“I apologize, Warlord. That was inappropriate,” I say once we’ve removed our jackets and are readying the tent for bed. It’s dark, but we’ve used magic to light the lamps. There are two beds set up for us and they are particularly inviting tonight.

“No. I’m glad you did it.” He runs a hand over my head. “I don’t have anyone but Brock to assist me in the way I need to be assisted and he’s busy healing my warriors. I’ll run myself into the ground. Hey, maybe I could phrase it like that when I ask the dragon lord if I can leave for a little while? If he understands how much I need my men maybe he’ll … no, who am I kidding. He’ll just assume that I need more babysitters.” He sighs.

Brock is one of Father’s husbands. He unofficially keeps an eye on Tristan. Originally, Father sent his husbands to ensure Tristan wouldn’t bolt. Tristan is mostly disabused of the notion that he could leave his alpha, but he sends one now as a precaution and for counsel.

Sometimes counsel involves a hairbrush against his backside.

The Warlord is aching, and I wish there was a way I could soothe him without breaking any rules or vows.

Hmmm, perhaps I can.

I push our beds together and gesture for him to get into his. His expression scrunches into confusion, but he’s too tired to ask questions. I climb into my bed, switching where my pillow lies, and laying my head at the foot of the bed. I reach out to grab his lower leg and move my fingers through the dark hairs there. He relaxes and does the same for me, grabbing my foot.

“Thanks, Riv. You always know how to make all this bearable and I’m so fucking grateful for you.”

“I would do absolutely anything for you, Warlord.”

“Same, Riv. Hard same.”

That’s why I have to keep my cock’s inappropriate behavior from him. Hewoulddo anything for me and we’d both regret it.

10

Tristan

The long row of mirrors on the way to the dining hall shows me what a gruesome sight I am. Crimson blood is splattered across my face. Mud is caked between the scales of my gorgeous jacket. River isn’t much better off. He was by my side, wrangling the last of the hydra demons with me. It cut him across the face, and I nearly killed the thing.

Thankfully, he’s more muddy than blood-soaked, looking like a proper mud man.

We would have cleaned up, but the dragon lord was adamant that we join him for dinner immediately upon arrival through the portal. There’s also another reason that I only ever admit to when I’m overwrought: I need to see him. Not want.Need. I definitely don’t want to see him, unless it’s to see him burn in hell. The bond is our true master. I need something from him; a touch, a stare, a fucking scolding.

And Gods do I hope it’s the last one. Yeah, I’m different. I know.

I’ve had a fucking headache for days and the nausea prevented me from eating much. A little time with my alpha and I’ll be right as rain. Ask me how much I love that little bit of codependency.

As soon as we enter, I know I’m not alone with my desires. He needed to see me too.

If the same thing had happened between me and River, a situation where we needed each other, but hated each other at the same time, I might throw myself off The Tower.