“Utterly.” Layla quipped, though she suddenly frowned. “Though your mother isn’t.”
“My mother is terribly subtle in a way I will never be able to match, being half-Huttr’s son.” Rhennic spoke levelly now, his sexy flirtatiousness easing as he swirled his wine, regarding Layla with a frank intensity. “Justine has plans within plans and plots within plots, and always has had.”
“She’s manipulating us to get her aims accomplished against the White Chalice, to wipe them out for good.” Layla frowned again as she took another bite of stew. “Me, Adrian, Dusk, and Luke. Even Rikyava. Justine’s goading all of us into following through with her plan of attack.”
“Manipulation is my mother’s favorite pastime.” Rhennic chuckled, turning on his stool so he could stretch his long legs out toward the fire. Kicking off his low ankle-boots, he bared lovely strong feet towards the fire, high-arched with long bones. Crossing his ankles, he turned his attention from Layla to the fire, leaning back on one hand upon his ottoman and sipping his wine.
“Manipulation was ever Justine’s strongest suit. Take my father, for instance.” Rhennic spoke as he gestured at the fire with his wine. “Half the time, Huttr hates Justine, railing against her and roaring. Then she wraps him around her smallest pinky-talon with a flash of her deep blue eyes and he comes to her like a slave, joining the might of his clan to the Storm Dragons. They fight, they fuck, they roar at each other in private or Huttr starts bad-mouthing her in public once again, and yet… he always comes back to Justine’s call.”
“Sounds complicated.” Layla mused, sipping her wine and taking a bite of sautéed pears – which were divine.
“It is.” Rhennic glanced back to Layla with a small smile. “But for all that, they respect each other deeply. Justine has had many lovers, most notably your own mother Mimi, but always she comes back to my father, though they never were a mated pair. More like battle-commanders who share a little extra on the side back at camp when they’re not campaigning.”
“Justine never had any other offspring, besides you?” Layla cocked her head, wondering. She’d had her suspicions about Queen Justine and her mother Mimi, and was interested to know it was true, though she wondered how many other partners Justine had obtained over the years.
“She never did have another child.” Something in Rhennic’s eyes saddened. “My mother had plenty of stillborns, every time she mated with another Storm Dragon. Finally, she had me when she and Huttr came together, late in life. She’s past her estrus days, so my brother Halfdir is all I’ve got, unless Huttr takes another Queen, which he’s not likely to. Halfdir’s Blood Dragon mother Losantia died in battle a hundred years back. Huttr has plenty of hot young things to mess around with these days – never when they’re in estrus, though.”
“And Rikyava?” Layla asked, wondering what the family connection was.
“She’s Huttr’s sister’s daughter. Rikyava’s mother died in battle only a few years after Yava was born, so she was raised alongside me and Dir. She’s beloved by my father. Maybe even more than his own sons.” Rhennic chuckled with a smile, as if he didn’t mind. It was clear Rikyava was like a little sister to him. “But yes, you are correct when you feel my mother is manipulating you. Justine’s a war-general, Layla, and she’s been waging this campaign a long time. She wants to solidify her legacy – to be the Queen who wiped out the White Chalice once and for all. Before she dies.”
“Is Justine sick?” Layla blinked.
“Vastly.” Rhennic turned quiet eyes to Layla, deeply sober now. “She’s riddled with some kind of magical cancer no healer has been able to figure out yet. It’s something unprecedented, never before seen in the Dragon world. But Justine’s always been an anomaly. It makes a certain kind of sense that her demise would be anomalous, also.”
“Hence the stories of rivalry starting in your clan for the top spot.” Something clicked into place as Layla regarded Rhennic – that he was already, or would soon be heavily embroiled in dominance-battles for Kingship if his mother died.
“They’re not stories.” Rhennic drained his wine, then set it upon the table. “There are no fewer than thirty Royal Storm Dragons around the world eyeing my mother’s health. So far, she’s not infirm, but the fact that Huttr defended her today as she tested Luke, not trusting her to defend herself as her Dragon, tells me much. Her powers are failing. So far, I think she’s only entrusted my father with that information, but I have my suspicions.”
“What does that mean for us, facing the White Chalice?” A cold sensation devoured Layla’s gut as her Dragon turned over inside her veins with a deep, dark fear.
“That Justine’s furious storm may have only one blitz left.” Rhennic held Layla’s gaze with a deep solemnity now, and a ready patience. “I have the feeling my mother has only one blaze of glory remaining in her, Layla, and she wants to use it to take out the White Chalice for good. It’s a coincidence that the Chalice have risen again after so many years, goading you and Luke by stealing your friends, but it’s a coincidence my mother wants to take full advantage of. Even though this campaign may finally kill her. Afterwards…”
“The Storm Dragons of Europe will be thrown into chaos.” Layla understood.
“The Storm Dragons all around the world will be thrown into chaos,” Rhennic spoke quietly. “And as Clan Second here and future Regent of the Storm Dragons when my mother dies, I need someone strong by my side to back me up. Or someones.”
“You want me to Bind you.” Layla blinked, setting her wine carefully aside. Finally, she saw the whole pattern of what Rhennic was about, and why he had come to find her tonight, and invite her to a private dinner. “You want to join our Bind so you’ll seem un-challengeable to the other Storm Dragon contenders. So you’ll have four notoriously high-powered Royals in league with you against all-comers for the Storm Throne.”
“Would it be such a bad thing?” Rhennic continued quietly, watching her with intensity in his dark purple gaze. “I bring steadiness and power to the table, Layla, in a way your other drakes don’t have. Dusk is fracturing and Reginald is too far away, and though Adrian is an effective commander, he doesn’t have the battle-history I do. I am a tested warrior, calm in my fury, and I would be King of an extremely powerful Lineage if this all settles out right – your Bound ally. Can you say the same for your other mates?”
Layla’s mouth closed, considering it as Rhennic watched her. His presence was strong and calm, something she had felt since the very first. He had Justine’s subtlety, and Layla saw it in the way he had gently manipulated her into this conversation, into being alone with him to feel the fullness of his ideas tonight. She was compelled by him, she was intrigued by him – and yet.
“I can’t Bind you, Rhennic,” Layla spoke softly, watching him by the fire’s roaring light. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you at all. I don’t—”
“You don’t love me.” His smile was wry as he regarded her. “I thought it worked the other way around. That you began to love someone after you bound them, rather than before.”
“I can’t add you to the Bind right now.” Layla spoke again, impressing her point, though gently. “I’m sorry.”
Rhennic heaved a sigh. With a wry smile, he gazed at the fire, and Layla smelled his lavender and heather scent whirl. Like a Scandinavian summer mixed with the flooding sunshine of Provence, Rhennic had a good scent, and it almost drew Layla in. She felt herself attuning to it, her drakaina coiling over eagerly in her veins to be inundated by such a powerfully calm presence, and faced with such a strong, handsome man before her. At last, Rhennic glanced around, his smile gentle now rather than wry. His eyes were a dark purple, like plums upon a summer bough, as he gazed at Layla with his sober strength.
“Consider my offer for a year and a day.” He spoke at last. “In the meantime, I will be your ally, as I am already Adrian’s and Dusk’s and Rikyava’s. We will find your friends, and bring them home safely. And once it’s all over, I would only ask that you come visit me again. So we may speak a while longer… and walk together in the orchards.”
“You want to court me.” Layla blinked, the thought strangely appealing in an old-world way. “To try and win my hand. To try and win my Bind.”
“I do.” Rhennic smiled then, and his smile was sexy, strong and deeply radiant. “Give me a chance to be your mate; that’s all I’m asking. I won’t push you. But I do want a shot.”
Layla cocked her head, thinking about it. She had seen how deeply Rhennic was already friends with Adrian and Dusk, and knew how much he and Rikyava cared for one other. He was strong, subtle, attentive, and sexy in that commanding yet debonair way she loved so much. He was asking rather than pushing or fighting for her, or seducing her – asking to be a part of her life in a way no one else had done.
