“Rule three,” he says, voice soft but steel beneath as he returns and beings to apply the Milk of Lido to my ass, instantly soothing the redness and gently beginning to wash away the stinging sensation. “You don’t leave this cabin without me. Not for water, not for air, not for the gods themselves. Say it.”
I swallow. “I don’t leave without you.”
“Good boy.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering. “Now eat. You’ll need strength for what comes next.”
My dragon Daddy protector moves predatory grace, all long limbs and sculpted muscle. I ogle shamelessly as he pads to the table, bare feet, loose trousers riding low on his hips, scars crisscrossing his back like a map of battles won. My mouth goes dry.
Sarak catches me staring in the polished shield hung on the wall. “Eyes up, elf.”
“Can’t help it. You’re very….”
He snorts, but there’s a pleased curve to his mouth as he tears a honey roll in half. Steam curls from the golden center. Sarak brings it to me, along with a mug of something that smells like winterberries and smoke.
“Eat,” Sarak commands, settling beside me. “Then we talk strategy.”
I obey, because the roll is heaven and because his proximity makes my brain fuzzy. Crumbs tumble onto the blanket. Sarak brushes them away with a thumb, then, without breaking eye contact, licks the honey from his skin. Slowly.
I choke on my bite.
He smirks. “Problem?”
“Evil dragon,” I wheeze.
“Guilty,” Sarak chuckles, a hint of menace in his voice.
We finish breakfast in companionable quiet, the fire stone’s faint pulse a comfort. When the plates are clean, Sarak pulls me into his lap. I go willingly, straddling his thighs, knees sinking into the mattress on either side. His hands settle on my hips, thumbs tracing the hem of his shirt.
“Tell me everything,” he says. “Revaster. The stone. Elowen. All of it.”
I take a breath. “Revaster wasn’t born a warlord. He was a scholar once, or so the stories go. Born in the Ashen Marches, youngest son of a minor noble house. Brilliant, but overlooked. He devoured forbidden texts, blood-binding, the old dragon-pacts. When his family tried to marry him off to secure an alliance, he refused. Burned the marriage contract in the hearth and the entire manor with it. His siblings, his parents, everyone. The ashes spelled his new name in the cinders.”
Sarak’s grip tightens. “I’ve heard whispers. The Ashen Scion.”
“That’s him.” I trace the scar on Sarak’s collarbone, grounding myself. “He spent decades in the Wraithspine Mountains, bargaining with things that should stay buried. The fire stone was his masterpiece, a soul-leech forged from a fallen star and the heart-blood of a bound dragon. He used it to conquer the southern kingdoms, one village at a time. My home was just… practice.”
Sarak’s eyes blaze. “He’ll pay for every life.”
I nod, throat tight. “The stone’s the key. It anchors the curse, siphons life to feed his immortality. If we break it, the tether snaps. He ages. He dies. But only a blood-mage of Elowen’s caliber can do it.”
“Tell me about her.”
I smile, remembering. “Elowen of the Emberfall Glades. She’s ancient, older than the oaks, older than the mountains maybe. Her people were the first to weave elf-song with dragon-flame. My mother saved her life during the Red Winter, thirty years ago. Elowen swore a life-debt. She’s…eccentric. Lives in a cottage that some say can move of its own accord through time. She hoards teacups and grudges. But her magic is unmatched. If anyone can unmake Revaster’s leash, it’s her.”
Sarak’s thumb strokes my hip. “And the cost?”
I hesitate. “Blood. Always blood. Hers, mine, yours if you offer. The rite demands balance.”
Sarak nods, unsurprised. “Dragons pay in fire and blood. It’s our way.”
The fire stone flares suddenly, a spike of pain lancing through my sternum. I gasp, clutching at Sarak’s shoulders. The cracks glow angry red, veins writhing like living things.
“Gamble?” Sarak’s grip tightens.
“It’s… hungry,” I grit out. “Needs blood. Mine, preferably.”
My protector’s face goes thunder-dark. “No.”
“It’s how the curse works. It feeds on the thief until the tether snaps back to Revaster.” I force a smile. “I’ve been dosing it withscraps of my magic. Last night’s overload starved it. It’s angry now.”
