Page 22 of Wings of Frost and Fury (Merciless Dragons #4)

“Thank fate,” she mutters, rooting around in the same bundle for a cup. “I’m exhausted, my flask is empty, and I must have a drink before your princes show up.” She flings herself onto the gold-draped throne, uncorks a bottle, and pours herself a generous amount of wine .

Within moments her eyes brighten and she seems to relax more. Her posture turns casual, almost lazy, and she kicks off her slippers before tucking her bare feet up into the nest-throne.

“They’re coming,” says Fortunix. “The Princes are coming.” He’s been standing at the mouth of the cave, as far from Thelise as he can get, but at the Princes’ approach he retreats, giving them room to enter.

“Ah, the dragon royals,” coos Thelise. “How exciting.”

Apprehension turns my bones cold, and I position myself between her and the cave entrance, shielding her from view with my body.

As soon as the two black dragons land, they fold their wings, but even with that act of consideration on their part, the cave is extremely crowded with four dragons, a nest, and several bags of supplies.

Varex and Kyreagan are among the most symmetrical and attractive specimens of our kind.

They are both a deep black, like a starless sky, both gifted with sinuous forms, well-turned wings, perfect white fangs, and symmetrical spikes.

I always feel a little misshapen next to them, with my oddly long neck, my needle-like teeth, and my disproportionately large shoulders and body.

Even my spikes are oddly shaped, more wedge-like than the sleek, tapered ones that each Prince possesses.

“The supplies you ordered, my Prince,” Fortunix says, indicating the bundles. “I may not be much good for battle any longer, but I can still carry a heavy load.”

He’s acting as if he did some great thing, gathering the items, when in reality he did nothing but sit in a stable for hours and then fly around the mainland for most of the night. I restrain a disgruntled huff.

Prince Kyreagan barely acknowledges Fortunix. Instead, he looks straight at me. “And the enchantress?”

Reluctantly I shift to the side. “She’s here. ”

I try to see her through their eyes, relaxed on the seat I made for her, her purple gown contrasting with the gold cloak she draped over the straw.

Her body is a statement, a temptation, a poem.

I want to worship it, cover it, hoard it away for myself, yet also show it to everyone so they can kneel before her, too.

The clash of all those impulses renders me so speechless and confused that I can barely follow Thelise and Kyreagan’s conversation.

“So you’re the two dragon princes,” she says.

“And you are Thelise.”

“Despised daughter of a genocidal sorcerer. That’s me. What can I do for you? This big brute said something about transformation?” She flutters a hand toward me.

“As you know, your father destroyed all the female dragons,” Kyreagan begins.

“And you’re holding me responsible. I always knew that bastard’s bullshit would come back to bite me in the ass.”

“We are holding you responsible,” Kyreagan admits. “But rather than ending your life, I require a spell from you. Perform it well, and you shall be set free.”

“God, you really don’t know much about me, do you?” She takes another swallow of wine. “Right, so what’s the spell?”

“I need you to turn all the human women we have captured into female dragons. In this way, we achieve two goals—revenge upon the kingdom of Elekstan, and the survival of our race.”

“No shit,” breathes Thelise. “That’s a big spell. A big fucking spell indeed.” She turns to me, her brown eyes alight with reproach. “You didn’t tell me what a big fucking spell it was going to be, sweetheart. Naughty dragon. You shall be punished later.”

I shudder at the lustful promise in her gaze and growl softly in response. Punished? Yes. I would love to be fucking punished.

She smiles at me, a vicious glee shining in her eyes .

“Can you perform the spell we need?” Kyreagan says with barely concealed impatience.

“The spell you need,” Thelise murmurs. “That’s very interesting. Yes, my Princes, I think I can provide the magic you need.”

“You think you can? That’s not good enough.”

“Fine. I swear it. On my father’s bones.”

She only knows the importance of such an oath because I told her about it.

And now she’s using it to convince Kyreagan that she can be trusted.

Any other dragon might find that unsettling, but though I search my heart for distrust, I find none.

She intends to help us, not harm us. She is a descendant of the Supreme Sorcerer, but she is nothing like him.

The woman whose soft, sweet skin I caressed with my tongue is kind and good, no matter how careless she may pretend to be. My clan is safe in her hands.

“I’ll just need a little time, and a lot more wine, and my bag,” Thelise says. “You remember which bag it is, pet?”

I rumble in response and shift aside one or two of the bags, revealing the leather one with the symbols on it.

“Give me eight or nine hours, and it shall be done,” Thelise continues. “There are precise calculations to be made, chants to be written, ingredients to be blended. Oh, and princelings—make sure all your people sleep on the ground tonight. Dragons and humans.”

“Why?” asks Varex.

“Don’t question the sorceress, darling, and don’t worry your horrible spiked heads about anything.

It’s in my best interest to do what you want, isn’t it, since I obviously crave my freedom and want to return to my little shack in that salt-crusted town by the sea?

So rest assured it will all be done exactly as you need it to be.

By this time tomorrow, you and your human captives will have far more in common. ”

Her words spark a suspicion in my mind. It’s similar to what she said to me, right before she turned me human.

She cannot possibly plan to do that with every dragon.

She wouldn’t. She knows this is about saving our species.

Much as I want to experience sex with her again, in human form, I have reservations about that sort of change being permanent.

I can’t imagine never getting to fly again, never being able to soar over the mountains, never being able to crush prey in my claws and rip through flesh with my teeth.

We would all be stranded here, prey to the fenwolves and to the vagaries of nature.

We would die. Thelise is too smart to believe that a spell like that would be the best solution.

When Varex and Kyreagan leave my cave with Fortunix, I prowl to the brink of the ledge just beyond the entrance and watch them depart.

I have no idea what Fortunix will tell the Princes about our time with Thelise.

What can he say? He spent most of those hours in darkness, unable to hear or see anything outside the space in which Thelise trapped him.

He cannot know that Thelise transformed me, or what we did together.

If he suspected, he would have mentioned it sooner.

“You’re fretting, pet,” says Thelise.

“I’m not sure they believe you. I don’t know what Fortunix will tell them.”

“He’ll tell them I’m powerful and that they can’t trust me,” she says brightly.

“But it doesn’t matter, darling. When someone doesn’t have any other choice, trust doesn’t really play a part in the equation.

I’m their only hope, so they’re going to let me play with terrible magic on the off chance that your species will survive as a result. ”

“Can you do it?” I ask. “Can you turn the women we captured into dragons?”

“Are you going to take a lovely dragon female as your mate if I do?” She’s smiling, but there’s a keen edge to that smile, a sharpness that cuts straight to my heart .

I advance toward her, my footfalls heavy on the stone. “Never.”

“You only want me?” Her smile is beginning to fracture at the edges. “Even if you can’t have little dragon babies?”

“I would be a terrible father. My future offspring are better off not existing.”

“Well, now, that’s just silly. You’re kind, devoted, strong, and intelligent. Excellent material for fatherhood.”

“I am also selfish and overly controlled by certain bodily pleasures.”

“That can be managed.”

“Why are we speaking of this?” My tone hardens.

“I will never mate with any other female, dragon or human. Any such joining would be hollow, sickening, and repulsive to me. When the heat comes upon me, I will wedge myself into a crack of the mountain and remain there until it passes… unless…” I lower my voice.

“Unless I can be like you again, and spend mating season with you, in delirious bliss.”

Thelise stares at me. Her eyes sparkle as if there’s liquid in them—tears, perhaps. Dragons rarely weep, though all of us shed tears at Guilhorn.

“I can do this,” she says softly, as if she’s reassuring herself.

“I can atone for it all. I can give you your wish and save this species. But it will hurt me, Ashvelon, and you have to let it hurt me, do you understand? You have to help me through this. If I ask for something, bring it. If I tell you to go away, leave. If I’m casting the spell, do not interfere, not even if you hear me screaming in pain.

If I need your frost-fire, or one of your scales, or your saliva, you must contribute it instantly, without asking why. ”

I bow my head in agreement.

“Good dragon. I noticed a few carvings on the walls of this cave—symbols and words, both in Dragonish and the Eventongue. Do you know how to write words in stone? ”

“I can write Dragonish symbols,” I reply. “I speak and understand the Eventongue, but I never learned to write or read it.”

“If I write something on the cave wall in ink, can you trace those letters and carve them deep into the stone? It’s very important that they be traced precisely, with perfect accuracy.”

“You want me to engrave the spell in stone for you, without knowing what I am writing?”

She purses her lips. “Yes. It’s best if this spell is committed to stone, you see, because that ensures its permanence. But I understand if that’s too much to ask—”

“I’ll do it.”

“Ashvelon, you don’t have to—”

“I trust you,” I interrupt.

“Even after the story I told you about Katlee?” Her brown eyes soften with sadness.

“I have a reputation, you know. People say my spells often turn out wrong. I could tell you that I made those mistakes on purpose, but why should you believe me? What if I do something dreadful to your species by accident?”

“Then we will be no worse off than before,” I reply.

“Without you, we will die out anyway. If there are no females, there will be no hatchlings, and we are already few in number from the dragon hunts, the plague, and the war. When the mating frenzy comes upon us at the Rib Moon, if we have no females with whom to breed, there will be no eggs. No future generations. And we will suffer a decline in our magic. Our power is replenished by the joys of mating, and without a successful frenzy, we will be diminished in more ways than one. Whatever you do to us, it will be no worse than what lies ahead if you do nothing.”

Thelise rises from her seat, swings her legs over the edge of the nest, and drops to the stone floor of the cave. She comes to me, arms open, and I press my nose against her breasts. She hugs my face and sighs, as if she finds comfort in touching me .

“I talk a big game, Ash darling,” she says. “But I’m scared. I’m terrified of doing this.”

In the back of my mind I hear Mordessa’s voice—beautiful words of encouragement that she spoke to me months ago, before we joined the war.

I speak the same words quietly to Thelise as I nuzzle against her.

“Fear is the stone that sharpens your purpose, the wind that teaches you to fly higher. Let it drive you to victory.”