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Asha

Envi stared at the paper before them, the thin sheet taunting Asha as he focused on his magic, finding its source within him.

“I cannot imagine how difficult this must be. It was like learning to walk as a child. I knew my dragon and my fire long before I knew this.” Envi slid a sharp nail under the corner of the page and lifted the rough-hewn paper.

With a breath, he gathered magic within himself and blew a gentle flame, turning the page into curling ash. “You’re so hit or miss with it.”

“You make it look easy, but I can’t grab hold of the magic.

It’s in me, but I can’t seem to focus on it.

” Asha sighed and retrieved another sheet of paper from a bin.

Between his fingers, he focused the power he felt coursing through him, like static he could push and pull as needed.

As he did so, fire spread from where his fingers touched, creating a hole in the paper that continued to grow as it fluttered down, flames flickering until it hit the ground as nothing more than ash. “When I’m touching it, it’s easy.”

Envi placed another piece of paper down and gestured for Asha to try once more. “It takes time and practice. I have patience, so don’t worry.”

Asha focused, holding on to the deep fire within himself, manifesting it as the magic he felt in his skin, focusing on the paper.

It seemed to cloud the world around him until Lyss’s bawdy voice broke his concentration with a snort.

“Baltheir’s graces, maybe ye’d be better at it if ye had yer bum diddled. ”

Asha’s face burned with flush, embarrassment overcoming him in a flash as so too did the paper ignite and roar for only a fraction of a second, leaving behind a perfectly rectangular shadow of ashes.

Envi stared at it before blowing gently, disrupting the perfect rectangle of ash.

“Maybe she’s on to something.” His quiet musings made Asha squeak with shame.

“Lyss! Balthier, my arse, you need to stop!” Asha glared and Lyss shrugged, pulling something out of her pocket—a tart of some kind. She nibbled on it absentmindedly.

“In’t Baltheir you want on yer arse,” Lyss said. One cheek bulged with pastry.

“True.” Envi pulled a notebook from his pocket, making another note before putting yet another slice of paper down. He muttered under his breath, narrating his writing.

“By all that’s forsaken, please.” Asha sighed heavily.

“Tuesday, our forty-third day of the second season in generation 548. Our Ashen prince, mate to King Mezerath, has discovered his hair trigger when it comes to his magic. Let it known, this Ashen has a peculiar linkage of his burgeoning sexuality to his power. A mere mention of my brother’s coc— Fuck!

” Envi’s notebook went up in a flash of flame at Asha’s glare.

“That was intentional. Saw ’im do it.” Lyss gesticulated with half a pastry, spreading crumbs about.

Envi glared at Asha and extended his singed pencil to the new sheet of paper. With a flourish, he drew a rather crude image of a cock. “What do you think of this?”

Asha stared down at it. “Lovely. Privy scribblings.”

“This is a human cock. Now, a dragon cock…” Envi proceeded to sketch a much larger… Fire erupted across the page. “I see.”

“Well, it cannot be helped. Until our young dragon has himself bedded, he’s useless. Really shouldn’t have waited, my brother-to-be.” Envi shook his head with a sigh. “Dragons need bedservants for a reason.”

Asha swore under his breath and rubbed his eyes. “Can we not blame all my issues on—” He gestured about.

“I mean, we could, but then it wouldn’t be as much fun.” Lyss took another bite of her pastry. “I mean. It’s not all bad, bein’ with your own sex.”

“What would you know about being with your own sex?” Asha huffed and metered his breath.

“Not much. Kissin’ and fingers is the fun part, anyway. Nothin’ a cock ever did for me that made my life better.” She eyed Asha up and down. “Might make yours better. Reckon if he shoves it up yer—”

“Lyss!” Asha snarled and at the spit of her name, a lick of fire flicked across his lips.

“And at that, you must be off.” Nadi came from somewhere down the hall and grabbed Lyss by her shoulders, directing her elsewhere. “I swear, that mouth on you is going to get you killed.”

“Weren’t complainin’ bout me mouth last night—” Lyss yelped loudly as Nadi engaged in some rather vicious whispering.

Envi, brow furrowed, stared at the doorway as Asha blanched.

“Huh. That’s why Nadi isn’t coupled. She’s a sapphist.” Envi shook his head.

“Coupled now, I suppose. How does it work with two women? I mean, with menfolk…uh…there’s parts that work still but…” Asha coughed as his cheeks heated.

“That is a good question… Perhaps they lay on top of one another a—” Envi flinched when Nadi stomped back down the hall and glared. “For a human, you have much fire in your eyes, miss.”

“What goes on in my bed is my business. I won’t have my lords in here speculating.” She pointed at the two of them and gripped the door’s handle. “And there’s a reason why women are good with needlework and penmanship.”

Envi flinched when the door slammed, and Asha made a gesture in the air, tracing the action of stitching before he understood something a moment later. “Oh, gods.”

“Eugh…” Envi mimed the gesture and hesitated. “Oh. Okay, that makes more sense.”

Asha buried his hands in his lap and stewed in the stretch of silence. “I’d rather not think about Lyss engaged. It’s bad enough I’ve had to hear it once a fortnight for the last eight years. I don’t think she enjoyed it, then, either.”

Envi nodded sagely. “I’ve heard.”

Asha wiped his hand over his face and pulled it away, frowning as a streak of soot transferred, leaving a trail up his palm. “Baltheir’s arse…”

“Need to quit calling out that dog’s name. A god does not cry out the name of another.”

“I’m no god.” Asha twisted his lips and stared at the ash he’d created, like his name. He drew a finger through the fine sheen of ash across the table.

“Maybe, maybe not. We do get our directives from a higher source, but humans look to us for aid. To them, we are gods. They pray to us and we do as we were directed by fate. And fate? He, she, they’re the reason this top of life keeps spinning.”

“Wouldn’t that be a burden?” Asha drew in the soot with his fingertip.

“Dragons are better equipped to handle this burden than others. We were designed to ease the burden of others. With great privilege comes great responsibility.”

Asha stared, time stretching on as he lost himself in thought. “Yet you don’t end the war.”

“It is not our place to meddle in the affairs of man.”

“Yet you take their prayers and act like a god to them?” Asha glanced up, catching Envi’s eye. Green, like emeralds, shone down to him, something vicious and demanding hidden in their depths. “They pray the dragons come to help.”

“Monsmountians pray to be the victor and Ramolians pray so also. There is no winning in war. Their war is the petty squabbles of wealthy men who are rapidly running out of money. We’ll be there to pick up the pieces, but we do not wield fire on behalf of man.

We blaze trails and build bridges. We feed and uplift. ”

Asha took a deep breath, blinking away the bitterness. “Can you just take out the wealthy men who are starting it?”

“Not without looking to be the aggressor. We take them down in other ways.” Envi pulled out another sheet of paper and held it up. “Will you wield fire for your mortals?”

Asha stared at the paper and focused on that intense desire he had for Rath, the want he had for kisses and touch.

It welled in his chest, and, like a spark, his throat pricked.

He shook his head and blew a breath, giving Envi a gentle flame that sent the paper up in a soft plume.

“I don’t think many mortals have been on my side to warrant me protecting. ”

“Bitterness is no reason to not act, Asha.” Envi rested a hand on Asha’s head, avoiding his horns.

“Then why do I feel so poisoned against dragons and them, still?” Asha bit out a swear and shuddered.

“Because the right kind of victory has been denied you.” Rath’s voice pricked Asha’s ears, and he turned, standing so fast the chair toppled behind him.

He was windswept and reeked of hard travel. Smoke inundated his clothes with a sharp scent.

Asha didn’t mind, though. He rushed forward and be damned who was to witness, they kissed. Asha hadn’t had much experience with chaste kisses in his life, his sole experience being the hunger he felt with Rath.

Envi openly stared, and Rath made a rude gesture before pulling Asha into the hallway to continue their breathy discourse. “My Ashen, my mate. I apologize for being gone so long.”

“I understand. We had good reason to stay separate. I can’t stop thinking about you.

It’s… It’s so hard to want you and then—how I was raised.

” Asha shook his head and pulled back, despite his body wanting nothing but to be close.

He swept his tail in and wound it around Rath’s legs for a comforting squeeze, making sure his mate couldn’t leave.

“None will ever judge you.” Rath tilted a finger up under Asha’s chin, his face a portrait of victory. “Or they’ll suffer for me.”

Asha’s gut clenched at the thought of the earl, his sons, the half-brothers he never bonded with or knew as anything other than masters. “Never again.”

“Of course. I ensured it. My gift to you.” Rath dug in his pocket and pulled out three rings that Asha recognized; the earl’s, and two subsidiary signets of viscounty. He offered them to Asha. They were much cleaner than last he saw their tarnished facets on Tippen hands.

The gold in them wasn’t spent like the gold that had been sent to Monsmount. “Why is this not dull?”

“Because when mortals wear gold, they give life back to it.” Rath closed Asha’s hands over the rings. “I want them forged into your coronets. They’ll adorn your horns as a warning.”