Page 32

“Pour me a drink. No, not your bubbly stuff, something stronger.”

My brother Paivrin shot me a surprised look, to which I responded with a darker look, but he complied, handing me his homemade liqueur.

My wife was talking about sex with her chambermaids; chambermaids who had sent me to prepare a bath so they could be alone with her.

I wanted to be alone with her too. I would have preferred that she asked me questions instead!

I let out a long sigh before running an agitated hand through the mass of my messy hair. No, of course not. I knew for a fact that she was more comfortable discussing this with her followers.

“Nervous?” suggested Kynnen with a smirk.

I bared my teeth in response, and Morgana immediately imitated me in her defense. I felt the fire of my power burning in my irises, and the she-wolf whimpered in submission and laid down at my brother’s feet.

“Hey!” he said reproachfully.

“What?”

“Don’t take it out on Morgana.”

“She started it.”

To comfort her, my brother affectionately stroked the top of her head.

“Ignore him, you know he’s the most temperamental of us all.”

I beg your pardon? Since when was I the most temperamental of the Patriarchs? And Tylbis, then?

“Really, I can’t wait for you to come face to face with your flame,” I grumbled, before turning to Paivrin. “Is there any way of getting hot water to fill the tub in the cottage?”

“I’ll ask Grimson.”

“Let him get help from the two soldiers I’ve brought with us,” I added.

Paivrin nodded and left the room to ask his servant to heat the water. I stayed a little longer with my brothers, until Ashana’s bath was ready so she could enjoy it fully before I returned.

“It’s a good thing we’re almost all together,” I began, more seriously. “I have something important to tell you. Ashana pointed out to me that there are no creatures of the Abyss in Muvaria, and I’d like to know the reason, given that they’re present everywhere else.”

Paivrin looked stunned when he heard this.

“Are you sure?”

I shrugged.

“No, but Muvaria is the only nation where magic and everything related to it has been banned. Maybe there’s a link; at least, that’s my theory. I don’t know much about Ashana’s father, King Mersif Carlion. We should look into this, it could be helpful to us.”

They nodded in agreement.

“I’ll go to Tylbis and inform him,” announced Kynnen.

Hearing this, Morgana moaned in sadness. I studied the she-wolf, intrigued. Only with Kynnen did she react like this.

“How old is Morgana in her human form?” I asked abruptly.

My two brothers exchanged glances.

“Difficult to say,” began Paivrin. “She’s never transformed. She refuses to.”

I smiled. I suspected she was in love with the youngest member of the family. The shape-shifter had all the attitude of an enamoured young girl.

“I see.”

Grimson entered at exactly that moment to grumble that my wife must be soaking in her bath this very minute.

I followed him into the kitchen. It smelled of potato stew and roast beef, and I salivated in anticipation.

When I saw the white-haired old man starting to prepare the tray, I gently took it from his hands:

“Leave it. You’ve done enough for today. I’ll take care of it.”

He thanked me in a barely audible mumble, and I smiled at him. Apart from appearing friendlier than I actually was, it kept my hands and mind busy. I’d been dreaming of making love to my wife for so long, but now I felt a sort of nervous restlessness. Apprehension?

I mentally counted to twenty, then left the house under the amused gaze of my two brothers, which annoyed me.

On my way to the cottage where my wife was staying, I passed the two chambermaids.

They smiled at me knowingly, then one of them, the younger, I think, giggled.

So, now I wondered what the tenor of the conversation between these women had been . ..

When I entered with our supper, I found Ashana modestly hidden under the bedcovers, pulled up to her chin. I stopped short on the threshold, curious.

“Is everything alright?” I asked.

“Yes, yes.”

I closed the door behind me and set the tray on the table.

“Come and eat, Ashana,” I invited her in a gentle tone.

In truth, I was trembling inside. Right then and there, I had no desire whatsoever to satiate myself with stew anymore; the one I wanted to devour was in bed. Our bed.

“I’m ... not sure it’s a good idea to eat in this outfit, Dovah.”

This sentence had the magical power to make my blood converge toward a single point of my anatomy. What’s that? What outfit?

“Come on, I’ve seen you before ... Kazain sam 2 ! ” I exclaimed, a hand over my heart.

The words came out on their own when I turned around.

Ashana now stood before me in breathtakingly erotic clothing.

It was some sort of cropped top, simple, white, and completely transparent, matched with equally revealing baggy pants that hid nothing of the soft fur located between her thighs.

My gaze returned to the brown shadows of the tip of her breasts.

I was running out of air. I was going to die at her feet, asphyxiated by desire, on the night of our wedding. A terrible death. Ashana blushed.

“You have big hands,” she commented in a tiny voice.

I widened my eyes, then lowered them to the one still pressed against my chest, where my heart was.

“Yes, no, maybe ... I don’t know,” I stammered.

I was hard. Very much so. It was as if my penis wanted to escape from my trousers. I had to sit down so as not to scare her, right there, in front of the potato dish and a few slices of meat.

“Ashana, you should eat a little.”

I didn’t dare look at her anymore. I knew instinctively that my irises had changed colour and shape. They were now those of the dragon. The chambermaids ... Should I thank them or chastise them for dressing Ashana as a true temptation?

“Okay,” she agreed, surprisingly accommodating.

I waited for her to settle down before finally attempting a brief glance in her direction.

Good. She was seated, and most of her body was out of my depraved view.

I then looked for something that could .

. . I rushed to the wardrobe and pulled out a blanket with a sigh of relief, then hurried to cover her with it.

My wife raised her head and a questioning look crossed over her face. My irises must have returned to their human form, for nothing shocked her when our gazes locked.

“Ashana, I’d really like you to eat, but if I leave you in this outfit, you won’t have the chance,” I explained in my most conciliatory and gentle voice.

My blood vibrated in my veins. Everything in me was throbbing. I was ravaged by desire, desire to possess her and unite with her, yet I had to control myself. I served her meticulously, as if concentrating on this task would help me keep control of my impulses.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked, realizing that I wasn’t putting anything on my plate.

I gave her a burning look.

“I’m starving.”

She blushed. So much, in fact, that her ears also turned scarlet. This time, she’d understood the implication right from the start, and I was glad . Talk to her, Dovah, quickly!

“Have you had a chance to, er ... talk to your chambermaids?”

Really? That’s the only subject you could come up with? Hypnotized, I contemplated the piece of potato that she slipped between her fleshy lips, imagining something entirely different in its place. I closed my eyes for a moment. Dovah, you obsessive bastard!

“Yes, and it was a great help to me. For example, they told me that ...”

Instead of finishing her sentence, Ashana stopped in the middle, while staring at her slice of roast with an expression that was both embarrassed and pensive.

“Tell me. You can talk to me about anything,” I encouraged her gently.

“That ... That the size of your, uh ... Well, that we could rely on the size of your hands, and you have big hands.”

“The size of my ...” I repeated.

And then it dawned on me. Did she think I had a big penis? Was she afraid I was going to hurt her? Or was she a little excited by the prospect? My mind raced at the thought.

“Well, that’s not ... wrong,” I hesitated.

I couldn’t very well tell her that I had a small penis—because that wasn’t true, was it?—but I didn’t want to frighten her either.

“Ashana,” I continued more seriously. “I will be gentle with you. I’m aware of your innocence and it’s also my role as your husband to guide you in this discovery of your body and your pleasure. At least, until you know exactly what you enjoy in the privacy of our bed.”

I sincerely hoped I’d found the right words to reassure her on this point. Ashana smiled at me, then continued pecking away at her plate before grabbing a few grapes. I couldn’t help but notice.

“Not to your taste?”

She smiled at me once again with a blatant lack of confidence. I was on edge, and when you knew my nature, it was quite a comical image.

“Actually, I’m not very hungry. I’m too nervous to eat.”

I took a deep breath. Ah ...

“Ashana?”

Her gaze locked on mine and I understood how anxious she was.

“Yes?”

“When you feel ready, I would like you to kiss me.”

I left the first initiative to her, the very first step in what was to be our sacred union. Her eyes widened in surprise, then she gave me another smile—a real one, full of emotion and gratitude. I didn’t move, not for a moment, as she stood up, wrapped in the blanket, and approached me.

“I’m not very good,” she said apologetically.

I smiled fondly at her.

“Nobody really is, and you know why? Because it’s not a question of technique, but of who we kiss. We kiss with desire, with love, with the heart. Kissing for the sake of kissing, without chemistry, has never pleased anyone.”

I was still seated as Ashana leaned in to close the distance between our two faces. With my gaze fixed on hers, I held back my impatience like a mad dog on the end of a rope.