Page 53 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Thirty-nine

Cayden

I slip back into bed as golden light paints the room, and brush Elowen’s mussed curls off her back to kiss her spine.

I know she hates when her hair gets like this, all unstructured and messy.

She’ll probably pout in the mirror when she sees herself, but I adore it.

Probably because I know it was my fingers running through it, and the possessive part of me loves that.

She hums in her sleep, arching into my touch as her pretty brown eyes blink open.

“Good morning, love,” I murmur, the rough edge to my voice making her arch again.

Her wedding dress is draped across one of the chairs, and we somehow managed to make it home to the manor with her wearing my tunic and me wearing my pants as we stumbled into a carriage.

Guests from the wedding definitely saw us, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck.

She climbed onto my lap once the doors were shut, riding me with her face buried in my neck.

The night was spent claiming her in every way, on all pieces of furniture in our chambers.

She yawns, looping her finger through the chain around my neck and pulling me back up to her, causing the plates on the bed to clatter.

She pushes herself up, clutching the sheet to her chest as her gaze pings around the room.

“H-how? When?” I pull her between my legs, settling her back against my chest and pouring some coffee into a dainty cup on the tray, sweetening it the way she likes.

“There are so many bouquets I can hardly see the floor.”

I press a lingering kiss to her neck in response.

She’s not wrong. It smells like a flower shop, with bouquets in varying shades of her dragons’ scales, both dominant colors and markings.

She turns to face me, running her eyes over my features.

I’m no stranger to people staring at me, but it’s different when Elowen does—it’s not with a shred of fear or hatred.

No, when she looks at me it’s like she’s trying to see into my very soul.

“Thank you.” She kisses my cheek, and by reflex, my arms tighten around her. “I have a present for you, too.”

She slides out of my arms and hisses as she hobbles to the en suite dressing room. “Don’t even think about having sex with me today.”

“Sorry, love.” I chuckle. “I won’t go anywhere near you, but I make no promises about what my mind will conjure up.”

I shove down the initial unease at the notion of her buying me something.

It’s the same feeling I had when she bought me the jewelry.

It’s not that I’ve never received gifts—my mother used to do her best with what little we had, and Ryder and Saskia have bought me things over the years—but like everything else, Elowen is different.

She returns with a square box in her arms, looking far more hesitant as she claims her earlier position and pulls the blankets over our legs. “If you hate it, you can throw it into the fire, and we never have to speak of it again.”

My brows rise. What could she have possibly—

But my mind goes silent when I flip open the lid, staring down at the cake I haven’t had since I was eleven.

The scent of blueberries and sugar wafts toward me, memories of autumn leaves tumbling to the ground and my mother complaining about me growing up too fast. Elowen sucks in a sharp breath.

“I know it won’t be exact since I don’t have the recipe, but I tried several before I think I managed to get it close to the one you described.

” Something cracks in my chest at her anxious tone, but it’s like I’m frozen in place. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

Waking up from my trance, I place the box on the bed and pull her face to mine, quieting her rambling and thoughts in one move.

I keep the kiss slow, wanting to pour every ounce of what I’m feeling for her into it because saying it out loud will feel too much like a goodbye.

Experiencing love is nothing more than waiting for tragedy to strike, and telling her I love her will be like getting to the peak of the mountain we’ve been climbing and waiting for someone to push us over the edge.

“I love it,” I murmur, placing my forehead on hers and swiping my thumb over her lips. “I pity those who will never know this side of you and yet I am grateful they never will.”

She smiles at me, and that same sense of foreboding doom deep in my gut doesn’t dissipate, it strengthens.

I’ve never been scared before a battle, but I’m fucking terrified now.

I manage to keep it all off my face as she cuts into the cake and hands me a slice.

She eats some pastries from the tray and sips her coffee, pouring one for me as well.

“ Fucking hells, ” I groan around the fork and her eyes shoot to mine again.

“I hate to say that I agree with anything Finnian says, but you’d put all other bakeries in Ravaryn out of business.

” She laughs, tossing a strawberry at my face.

“I’m not joking. I’d be too frightened to tease the dragon queen. ”

“I’ll add that to your list of lies.” She waves a hand through the air. “I’m happy to bake for the people I care about and leave it at that.”

I finish off the slice she gave me and reach into the drawer of my nightstand, pulling out a velvet box. “I have something else for you.”

“No.” She shakes her head, latching her hand around my wrist to push it back toward the nightstand. “You’ve already given me too much.”

“That’s a matter of perspective and I’m more than happy to inform you that you’re wrong.”

“I’m never wrong,” she states, dipping a strawberry into the whipped cream and looking up at me through her lashes as she licks the remainder off her fingers. “Maybe I don’t want another gift. Maybe I want something else.”

A rough breath escapes my chest as I shove the box at her, brushing my fingers along her thighs as she opens it. Her face lights up as she stares lovingly at what’s inside. “Still want something else?”

She pulls one of the two identical and intricately made wrist cuffs closer to her face: a dragon with its wings spread wide enough to meet on the underside of her wrist with a long tail that curls around her middle finger.

It’s made sturdy by a second band that locks around her wrist in the perfect position to hide the scars left behind by her shackles.

“El.” Her eyes flash to mine again. “You’re perfect in my eyes, and you don’t have to conceal a single scar either internal or external, but I know how it feels to wish to hide them sometimes.”

Hardly a moment passes before she closes the gap between us, and I twist her until she’s flat on her back beneath me, writhing and panting exactly how I want her. My tongue presses into her neck, trailing down the valley of her breasts as she moans, and gods I love that sound.

A knock pounds against the door as I’m kissing her stomach, and she stiffens.

“I thought you said we’d be undisturbed.”

“I did.” Saskia, Ryder, and Finnian said they’d stay at the castle while Elowen and I celebrated our wedding however we wanted to, and the servants were told to leave us be. I climb off her, throwing on my black robe and leaning down to press my lips to her forehead. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

By the time I make it to the door in the sitting room, that same familiar sense of dread latches on to me again.

My instincts are telling me not to open it, to ignore the world and keep Elowen in here, but that’s just a dream.

Quiet mornings untouched by war isn’t our life yet, but it can be. It will be .

Braxton stands on the other side, an apology he doesn’t voice lining his amber eyes. “Thirwen has been spotted. We still have time, but if we’re to follow through with the plan—”

“We’ll have to leave by nightfall,” I state with no emotion. “Summon the others. We’ll meet in a half hour to discuss strategy.”

He dips his head before retreating down the hall and I softly shut the door again. I feel Elowen’s eyes on my back, knowing she heard the whole interaction, and turn to face her leaning against the doorway in one of my shirts. “And so it begins.”

I nod. “To war, my love.”