Page 34 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Twenty-four

Cayden

I’ve watched Elowen flip through one hundred and forty-seven pages of a book she’s clearly enthralled with.

That her narrowed eyes have remained on me for the last fifty is a sure sign of enjoyment.

I have no intention of stopping, and her stubborn nature prevents her from backing down.

Here we remain, locked in a silent contest like we don’t have other important matters to attend to.

“How was your morning ride?”

“Fine.”

“And how’s the book, sirantia?”

She dramatically flips another page. “Riveting.”

“Are you going to continue answering me with only one word?”

“Perhaps.”

Her dragons were restless just before dawn, and she didn’t bother changing out of her slip before donning my coat and a pair of her boots.

They circled the property for the most part, and I watched them through the windows while reading the daily reports I receive to make sure nothing went wrong during the night.

The servants brought breakfast into the sitting room in front of the bedchamber, and Elowen threw off the coat as soon as she saw pastries and coffee, collapsing on the couch.

She looks like something that crawled out of a desire-drenched dream, sent into reality to be my undoing.

It’s a doom I’ll happily accept, whether it be delivered by her lips or the tip of her knife.

She’s the only form of torture I’ll never hold up against. I haven’t stood a chance for months, too far gone to even try to deny the magnitude of the longing that pulses through my veins.

I place my elbows on my knees and lean forward, setting aside the sword I was sharpening. “Tell me about it.”

She considers this for a moment before flicking her mussed curls over her shoulder, drawing the already short hem up her thighs. Good gods. “I haven’t had enough coffee to merit a prolonged conversation with you.”

I shouldn’t love her attitude, but I adore it.

If she were to stare at me with pity in her eyes after I revealed the details of my past, I’d find any excuse to leave the room, but this is exhilarating.

Her defiance, the feeling of a challenge, all it does is make me want her more.

I steeple my fingers in front of my lips to hide my grin despite my dimples giving it away and shamelessly drag my eyes along her reclined body.

She snaps the book shut and reaches forward to grab another strawberry puff, moaning as she bites into it.

My gaze attaches to her lips as she licks some jam and powdered sugar off her fingers, dragging them along the plump surface.

She hollows her cheeks and the image of her on her knees when she took me in her mouth causes my desire to amplify.

She knows exactly what she’s doing and grins triumphantly.

I’m aware I’m wretched in this life, but I must’ve been an abysmal prick in a previous one to deserve this.

“Marry me,” I state. “A week from today. Or sooner.”

“Say please.”

“Please marry me.”

She drops her hand away from her cheek and scrunches her nose. “Not good enough.”

We’re already betrothed for fuck’s sake.

“Elowen Atarah, my sweet affliction, the object of my obsession.” I rise from the chair and round the coffee table filled with more trays than necessary for two people and get down on one knee as a flush creeps up her neck.

“When I’m taken from this world, I will happily walk into hell knowing I’ve experienced divinity in your presence and tasted salvation from your lips.

Will you please put me out of my misery and become my wife within the week?

I will always choose you in any lifetime and all worlds, so please allow me to publicly proclaim that in this one. ”

I keep my tone low, the whisper of desire and honesty making her shiver. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, and I curl my fingers to stop myself from reaching out. The urge to kiss her is so strong but by some miracle I will myself not to give in. I need her answer.

“Yes.” She presses her lips together to try to hide her smile, but it’s evident through her shining eyes. “I suppose there’s no point in delaying it. I’ll send for a dressmaker to come to the house tomorrow morning.”

“Pay extra to have it done as quickly as possible.”

“For a royal wedding dress, the fee will be substantial.”

“I don’t care,” I reply. “Send me the bill and I’ll take care of it.”

She purses her lips. “I have expensive taste.”

I lean closer so my mouth hovers an inch above hers. “So do I.”

I’ve hoarded my money over the years, so she can spend as much as she wants. Elowen does have expensive taste, but I have deep pockets and a penchant for wanting her happy.

“We should invite the rulers of Feynadra and Urasos to begin fostering a relationship. Do you think there’s any chance they’ll align with us in the war?” she asks.

“I think the best we can hope for is neutrality. Ensuring they don’t join forces with Imirath should be our main focus because fighting a war on two fronts is hellish.

We stand between them and Imirath. They won’t want to waste soldiers in our war if they have nothing to gain and everything to lose if Imirath invades Vareveth and pushes north.

The princess married to the crown prince of Urasos is a daughter of one of the noble houses of Thirwen, so I doubt they’d be willing to break that peace. ”

“Galakin is the most essential alliance anyway,” she answers. Their navy is what we need, not more soldiers from two minor kingdoms. “Maybe the queen of Feynadra can put in a good word for us with her sister, Queen Cordelia.”

“I’ll find out what I can about the rulers and send out the invitations today. If there’s anything useful, I’ll be sure to tell you.”

“You should be thankful we’re getting married so soon.” She giggles while propping her cheek on her hand. “If we summoned a royal gathering before our vows, rulers would be begging me to marry their sons. Queen Cordelia wasn’t subtle at the alliance ball.”

I stand and reclaim the seat across from her, taking a sip of my lukewarm coffee. “A pompous prince would never fulfill you.”

“No?” She straightens up, sitting primly on a couch and making it look more like a throne. “If our lives were different, how would you have dealt with my many suitors in Imirath?”

“Sliced them open and thrown them in the canal.”

“Do you think we would’ve been friends?”

“I could never be only your friend.” She laughs, and, gods, her laugh.

If I could bottle up the sound and listen to it on repeat, I would.

It’s unburdened, like it’s meant only for me.

I hoard this memory to store it with all the others I keep of her, separate from the other parts of my life so these moments remain untainted.

“Firstly, I’d have stolen you away before you had the chance to walk down the aisle to someone else.

Secondly, even if you were to smile at royals offering up their sons like gifts to a goddess, you’d still be crawling into my bed at the end of the night, and I’d remind you just how deeply you belong to me. ”

“And what if you’re someone I can get out of my system with a few tumbles in the sheets?”

“Hmm.” I quirk a brow. “Am I?”

She smiles brighter. “Completely.”

“Come here.” I widen my legs, knowing she’s lying through her teeth.

She rolls her lips together, straightening her spine, and I know I have her under lock and key.

She’ll never refuse a challenge. Her hips sway seductively as she slowly closes the distance between us and drops into my lap.

Her scent surrounds me as she leans close, and her breasts push against my chest. My hand tightens on the arm of the chair as she trails her fingers over my shirt, tracing my scars through the fabric.

I wonder how many times she’s studied me shirtless to know their exact placements.

“Entirely unaffected,” she says on a shaky exhale.

“So it appears.” I hide my smile, slowly releasing the death grip on the chair, and slide a hand down her back. Her thighs press together as she shivers, and she tries to hide it by shifting. “Tell me the truth, beautiful.”

Her throat bobs and hands tighten on my shoulders.

She shifts again as I reach up with my other hand and wrap her curls around my fist. I’ve always loved how dark they are, and how they make her eyes shine with warmth.

I pull her closer to me and she sucks in a sharp breath when I tilt her head to the side and glide my lips up her neck.

A chuckle rumbles deep in my chest when she shudders. “I’ll be so good to you, Elowen.”

I lower my mouth over the spot she loves just below her ear, flicking my tongue, making her cry out and arch against me.

She releases her hold on my shoulders and locks her arms around my neck, leaning into my hand, baring more of her throat to me.

Lust mixes with the need to mark her as mine and courses through me like a drug.

I continue licking and nibbling all the places I know will make her moan, making my way down to the neckline of her slip and tugging it down with my teeth to expose the tops of her breasts. Fucking gods, this woman.

“Give me the truth, love.”

“I did,” she moans as she threads her fingers through my hair and guides me toward her nipple visible through the fabric. My defiant angel.

I wrap my lips around her peak, and she whimpers, dragging her hips over the bulge in my pants. “The truth is that if I parted these pretty thighs, you’d be dripping for me.”

“You’re delusional,” she gasps.

I smirk against her, licking my way back up to her jaw and holding her in place as she squirms, wanting her closer, wanting to possess her.

My fingers caress down her back and thigh until I can dip them beneath the hem to push her legs apart with my fist. She whimpers again, a knot forming between her brows, and she tilts her hips forward, searching for the reprieve I won’t grant.

“The truth—” Her eyes briefly squeeze shut when I trail a finger over the side of her panties.

Her pants paint my lips, mingling with mine as our pulses pound together.

I keep my finger where it is, rubbing back and forth to give her a hint of what I’ll do once she gives me what I ask.

All she has to do is tell me she wants me, but fuck if I don’t love the fight.

The bell chimes at the foot of the steps, the servants signaling a visitor has arrived. “Ignore them. I’m not expecting anyone.”

“W-we don’t want to be rude.”

“Yes, we do. We want to be extremely rude.”

She abruptly stands up but remains between my parted thighs with a devilish smirk on her lips. She hooks her fingers through the thin straps on her shoulders and slowly slides the fabric down her body until she’s left in nothing but the morning light that graces her skin.

“Fuck,” I groan, resuming my death grip on the chair.

“I’m going to kill whoever is at the door.

” She laughs, turning away from me to walk into the bedroom, her tits and ass bouncing as she does.

I want to bury myself inside her and wring every ounce of pleasure from her until she’s limp.

I want to capture her moans in my mouth and bury my face between her thighs. “I’m not joking.”

I run my hands through my hair and drag them down my face before tilting my head back against the chair.

If this is the game she wants to play, so be it.

She can push me all she wants; all it does is make me want to return the torment.

She walks through the door again with innocent eyes, looking breathtaking in a lavender velvet gown in her favored style with delicate embroidery.

“Let’s go greet our guests.” She slips her hand into mine and tugs me from the room.

“Let’s murder them.”