Page 43 of Wild Flame (Wild Bond #2)

Chapter Forty-Three

“ D on’t you find it ironic?” Helene asked me as we both watched Zara chase Nalia around the palace gardens. The young child squealed in delight as she tottered precariously on her chubby legs, weaving through the many guests.

There was a smile in my voice as I replied, “Find what ironic?”

It was two weeks after the events of Amir’s attempted coup. After postponing it to give me time to heal and to allow everyone else to recover, we had finally had the promised Halmarish handfasting ceremony in the Temple of the Nine earlier this morning. We had planned to hold the reception at The Sphere, but considering what had taken place there, and all the damage, it was being held in the gardens instead.

Helene looked over at me. “Ironic that if you were a dragon rider, as you’ve always wanted to be, things would have turned out very differently. You would have been affected by that potion, same as the rest of us, and Amir’s plan would have worked. Malik would certainly be dead, and who knows who else, and no one would have been the wiser about what Amir had done.”

I stared at her. “What’s your point?”

She smiled and nudged me. “That all of it was only possible because of you, and the fact that you are not a dragon rider. And because you were clever enough to think of a way to counteract the potion and free Malik.”

“I only followed a hunch and was lucky it worked out,” I argued.

My sister glared at me good-naturedly. “Don’t downplay it. If not for that hunch, the future of our world would look very different.”

I supposed she was right. Not about assigning me all the credit, but in pointing out that, for once, being human had been an advantage rather than a weakness. We had won, but her words also made me think of what we had lost.

My heart still hurt when I thought of Leif’s death, and that of his dragon. Despite his involvement in everything, he had sacrificed their lives to save mine. Because of that, I had asked that he be given a rider’s burial, and Malik had agreed.

Amir and Virath had also been given the rider’s burial, but no funeral rites. There would be no period of celebration. Many thought it was still more than the prince deserved after all he was responsible for came to light.

Malik had not hidden Amir’s crimes from his people, except, of course, for the existence of Moonstone and its part in the potion that had been used on the riders. Since most everything had happened in The Sphere, the details of how close Zehvi had come to losing its king were not widely known and never would be. Malik had also worked with Helene to track down any remaining Fleshfire shipments from Halmar and destroy them, as well as any caches still found in the city. Taj had also discovered where Amir stashed the stolen Moonstone, and it was safely hidden away once more.

Malik and Helene had both been in contact with my father. They informed him of Leif and Nilfren’s deaths and their involvement in the events that unfolded, and especially their use of Halmarish ships and forges to facilitate a drug trade in Zehvi. My father had not been happy to learn of their deaths. He had been even more concerned with apologizing for their involvement and denying having any knowledge of what they had done. Malik had been inclined to believe him, thanks to the conversation I had overheard between Nilfren and Leif where they had basically admitted the king knew nothing. It seemed that both monarchs were eager for relations to remain strong between the two kingdoms and wipe the slate clean.

A child’s laughter rang out from not far away, bringing me back to the present. I looked on with growing fondness as Zara passed a giggling Nalia over to her father. The little girl gave Ramin a slobbery kiss on the cheek before being passed to Sura and doing the same.

Ramin’s name had been cleared, as well as the older rider, Rishaan, who Amir had first tested his potion on.

Zara made her way over to us, and we laughed as she jokingly wiped her brow. “That little monster is a handful,” she gasped, taking a sip of drink she snagged from a passing servant. “The Nine help us all if she becomes a dragon rider.”

She took another drink, and I noted as she did so, the glint of obsidian set into the gold cuff she now wore at her wrist. Malik, the Fangdar, and all the other riders now sported the same, making sure that the black stone was flush against their skin. Helene even wore one that Malik had gifted her.

Suddenly, Helene sighed, and I followed her gaze to where our mother stood. It looked like she was giving a dressing down to one of the servants. The poor girl looked to be near tears.

“Excuse me,” Helene grumbled. “It appears someone may need rescuing from our mother.”

As she hurried away, I couldn’t help thinking how they would both be returning to Halmar tomorrow. My mother and I hadn’t spoken since our confrontation, and I wouldn’t miss her—she was only here for appearances sake—but I would miss Helene terribly. Thankfully, Malik and I intended to visit Halmar in the near future. Malik had surprised me with the idea, saying he wanted me to show him the parts of it I missed. My heart still warmed at the thought.

My eyes drifted over the guests until they landed on a couple that made me smile. Astrid and Yesh stood close together, Yesh murmuring something in her ear that made her blush. I had invited Astrid to the ceremony and reception, just as I had to our Marking Ceremony, wanting her to be here to celebrate with me. I had been delighted when I discovered that Yesh was the Zehvitian warrior Hilde had spoken of. The pair of them seemed thoroughly smitten with one another. Yesh’s head wound had mostly healed and all that remained was his grief and anger over the loss of Selasi, which I shared.

I was happy for the couple, though, and for Astrid especially. She had come to me not long after Amir’s part in everything had been revealed and told me that, though her memory was still cloudy, she believed he had been the one to drug her that night. I was inclined to agree with her, though I suppose we would never know for sure.

Zara and I looked on, observing the party for several moments in silence. She had taken the news that I had been her almost -assassin surprisingly well. She had been shocked, of course, but I think my later saving her life went a long way to assuaging any doubts she may have had about me.

“I nearly killed you,” I had said at the time.

She shrugged. “But you didn’t. And you thought you were doing what your god wanted. It’s understandable.”

I blinked. I couldn’t believe how well she was taking this. “So . . . it doesn’t bother you?” I clarified, stunned.

“Not at all,” she laughed, her amber eyes, that were so much like her brother’s, lit up as she spoke. “I actually think it’s rather exciting. My sister by law is an assassin.”

“Not anymore,” I corrected with satisfaction.

She side-eyed me and nudged me with her arm. “No wonder you were so incredible in training with Ramin. I bet you were holding back, weren’t you?”

Relaxing slightly at her teasing tone, I was unable to resist the small smile as I, too, shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“I knew it!” Zara cried. “That’s it. We must spar again.” She pointed a finger at me. “And this time, no holding back.”

I nodded, no longer fighting my smile. “Deal.”

Now, as we stood observing the milling crowd in the gardens, I asked her softly, “Are you doing all right?” She was still torn up about Amir’s death and the fact that he had tried to have her killed. She likely would be for a long time. Before she could answer, Mesmera flew over and perched on her shoulder, making a disgruntled sound, likely sensing her rider’s turmoil and not liking it.

Zara reached up absently to stroke her dragon’s tiny head. “No,” she answered honestly. She gave me a tight smile. “But I will be.”

Just then a rider and his wife walked past us, but not before the rider paused and placed his fist over his heart and bowed his head in The Sign of The Warrior. “My queen,” he murmured before moving on.

I shifted awkwardly. People had been doing that to me ever since the confrontation with Amir. And though it made me feel slightly uncomfortable, and I didn’t feel entirely worthy of the gesture, I would never begrudge anyone who did it. It was too meaningful for that.

Zara’s laugh rang out. “You look more uncomfortable than a fish in the desert.”

I glared at her. But before I could comment, her eyes shifted to something behind me.

Strong arms slid around my waist and a familiar body pressed against my back.

“I turned around, and you were gone,” Malik murmured, pressing his lips against my ear. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”

He nipped playfully at it, and I gasped. “Malik!”

“And that’s my cue,” Zara said with a grin and a roll of her eyes. Draining the rest of her glass, she moved away, Mesmera chirping a farewell.

I turned in Malik’s arms and gave him a censuring look. “You scared her off.”

His hands circled low around my waist, and he grinned. “If she could hear the thoughts running through my mind right now, she would run screaming.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and fed my fingers through his hair. “Oh, really? Thoughts like what?”

He leaned closer. “Like how I want to strip you out of this dress and have you screaming my name as you wear nothing but this crown.” He gestured to the new delicately crafted obsidian and ruby tiara he had had made for me to wear just for this occasion. It perfectly matched the black and red Halmarish style gown I wore.

Fire ignited in my veins at his suggestive words.

Seeing my reaction, his grin widened. “Shall we go to our room? Or shall I order them all to leave? Then we could repeat what we did a few nights ago.” His eyes now held that wicked glint I had come to love so much. My blood hummed at the memory. I had come to join Malik in the throne room to hear petitions for the day. But as I strode up the steps of the dais, intending to sit on one of the lower tier cushions, his eyes had locked on me and with a single word, he dismissed everyone, including the guards, until we had the entire room to ourselves. Seconds later, my back was against the cushioned seat of the throne, his mouth was on me, and before long I had been screaming his name to the high vaulted ceilings above.

The thought of doing so again was very tempting. But I sighed. “We can’t. We can’t leave our guests so soon. And besides, I think everyone needs a celebration right now . . . after everything.”

He loosed an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose you are right.” But then he bent down, and our lips met in a gentle kiss.

When we pulled back, I whispered playfully, “But after, it’ll just be you and me in nothing but this crown.”

His eyes flared, and he grinned. “As my queen commands.”