“Leena.” Why was he doing this? He was only going to make it worse.
“Yes?”
“No matter what happens now, I want you to know something.” He watched her throat bob, saw the way she hugged herself against the well of emotions that made her eyes glint with tears. “Last night was everything to me. No matter how long you live or what the future brings, I want you to know that I love you and have loved you, above all others. This was a taste for you. A first taste. For me, it was the last. And I don’t regret a single moment of it.”
“Oh, Colin…” She gave him a pitying look he could not abide. It was no secret that once a dragon bonded, they could not find pleasure in another. Whether she realized that he’d bonded with her unilaterally last night or simply thought his words were romantic pillow talk, he didn’t want her sympathy. He wouldn’t have changed a damn thing. Every second of last night was sacred.
He gestured toward the door. “Go. You don’t want to get caught.”
She gave him a slight bow and left without another word.
Cold shards of ice stabbed through his heart in the empty room. Some invisible creature had dug its claws into his chest and torn and shredded until there was nothing left but wispy twists of his soul blowing in a dark wind. Everything that mattered was over.
But a soldier, a warrior, was trained to fight through the pain. He’d keep moving and leave everything on the battlefield.
Colin washed and dressed, forcing himself to move the shattered pieces of his heart. The suns hadn’t yet risen outside his window, but he took up his sword. Time to lose himself in his practice routine. Whatever this war would bring, he was ready, because after tonight, he had nothing left to lose. And if there was one thing universally acknowledged in Ouros, it was the hazard of a dragon with nothing to lose.
It wasall Leena could do to keep her eyes open as they rode toward the orchard on the edge of Asfolk. Unlike the palace, the temple did not have access to a carriage large enough to transport four dragons, three witches, and one exhausted scribe, and unlike the night before, it was decided that Nathaniel’s magical reserves could not be wasted on transporting them by portal.
What the temple did have was plenty of horses. The dapple-gray steeds carried scribes to the distant pools in Niven to make sacrifices to the goddess. They’d saddled up that morning after breakfast and set out for Asfolk, Leena carefully distancing herself from Colin to avoid suspicion. Every time she came near him, she thought that her skin must be glowing, branded with light everywhere he’d touched her.
How was it possible that no one seemed to notice she was different? The idea boggled her mind. How could they not notice that she’d been completely turned inside out and put back together? Her night with Colin had shaken her to her core. She’d never be the same. Never.
She adjusted herself in the saddle, her muscles deliciously sore from their lovemaking. Despite her best efforts, her mind went back there, back to the sight of him moving over her, in her. Sweat on his forehead. The muscles of his arms bunching with the effort, caging her in, making her his willing prisoner.
They reached a crossroad and got a firsthand view of exactly what was happening in Rogos. A battalion of archers rode by in front of them, dressed in their purple uniforms. The captain bowed his head in her direction. She bowed back, watching absently as the unit continued on. When they resumed their journey, she allowed the dragons to go ahead of her toward their destination. She was too tired for the responsibility of leading the way.
“Earth to Leena.” Clarissa popped up beside her. When had she found her way to the back of the group?
“Why would Earth be calling me?”
Clarissa laughed. “It’s an expression. We say it to each other on Earth when someone spaces out.”
“What a strange expression.”
“What’s with the matching luggage?” Clarissa motioned under her eyes. “Looks like you haven’t slept in days.”
She glanced away nervously. “I haven’t been able to sleep lately.”
“Clandestine affair?”
Leena’s head snapped around, her eyes widening. “Why would you think that?”
Clarissa laughed, buckling over the neck of her horse. “It was a joke. Obviously. I mean, you’re a scribe, right?”
“Oh, right.” Leena forced a giggle.
Clarissa’s smile faded, and she leaned back in the saddle. “Seriously, what is it? Why can’t you sleep?”
She lifted her eyebrows, thinking fast. “Isn’t everyone missing sleep these days? Our world is on the brink of war. Even now, the high lord has likely lined up troops at the border.”
It wasn’t a lie, but Clarissa’s face fell as if it wasn’t quite what she’d expected her to say. “Hmm. Well, if we get our hands on that book today, my sisters and I are going to end this war before it begins. Take heart—you’ll be sleeping well soon.”
How she wished that was true.
It was late morning when they reached Asfolk Orchard and found the metal sculpture of the dragon guarding the gate. There was no one here. No need to guard it. Not only was the thornfruit dangerous to pick and inedible to anyone who didn’t know how to prepare it properly, it wasn’t even in season.
Leena hopped down off her horse and inspected the dragon. She brushed years of dust and debris off the metal sculpture. Dead leaves had gathered along the side in the dip between its tail and its body. This wasn’t a crypt. There was no inscription anywhere on it, no marker. It wasn’t even big enough to contain an adult body. More relevant to their cause, there was no place to put the crypt key.
