Normally, Taevas wasn’t religious, but when it came to her, he couldn’t make sense of any of it without the divine. “I don’t believe that,” he protested. “And I don’t think you do, either. We’ve been tied together for a decade,metsalill,and the gods simply got tired of us fumbling around, trying to follow the thread. Now we’re together. There’s no going back.”
“Why not?”
He stiffened his spine, ignoring the pain, and leaned in to press a kiss to the shell of her ear. “Because I won’t allow it.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Her grandfather had always hopedshe’d end up with a nice nymph boy. He’d talked of little else in the last days of his long life, when ghosts crowded his mind and the only thing that troubled him was the thought of her being left on her own.
“You need a nymph to build your grove,”he’d insisted, his voice gone dry and reedy no matter how she plied him with sweet tea and homemade lozenges.“You need a partner who’ll weave himself into you, support you, so you can wear the crown without all this sorrow.”
Historically, male nymphs acted as the support system for the women of the grove, who were tasked with leading the group, carrying out traditions, and making the major decisions that could, in a dangerous world, lead to life or death. In her grandfather’s view, her ideal partner would be gentle, steadfast, disciplined, and submit to her authority in all things, as he’d done with her grandmother and his forefathers had done since time began.
Of course, nothing was ever that simple, no matter what her grandfather believed. The rules had changed many times. Having a queen was traditional, but it was just a name tacked onto a greater, older thing that did not define itself by imaginary limits.
To be queen was toteq,to carry.To bear.
To be the partner of the queen was to follow, no matter how treacherous the path. To ease the burden, no matter the sacrifice.
These things didn’t rely on strict, imaginary lines of gender or sexuality. They were a partnership, neither existing without the other, each unwaveringly essential in their contributions.
Her grandparents had that perfect partnership, and it grieved herpappousthat Alashiya didn’t, especially now that she bore the burden ofteq.He’d urged her to leave the land, to strike out into the unknown in search of other groves, where a husband might be found who would take some of the weight from her.
Knelt on the floor beside a powerful dragon, a king in his own right, Alashiya didn’t have to wonder what her grandfather would think of him.
Too bold,she could almost hear his ghost whisper.Too hardheaded. He’s not soft enough for you, my joy. You need to send him away and find a nice nymph who will know his place.
Everything about Taevas was wrong. When she looked up at him through her lashes, she was struck once again by the shocking boldness of his hard features, the power of his body, the burning violet of his eyes.
If there was such a thing as a direct opposite of the perfect nymph, it was Taevas, the perfect dragon.
Was there something wrong with her? There must have been, since nothing stirred in her at the thought of a diffident, soft-spoken husband and never had. Her grandfather and her father’s examples should’ve been enough to mold her expectations, but something had gone wrong along the way, apparently. Even in her imaginings, Adon had never been a nymph.
It wasn’t the softness of a nymph but the power of the dragon that quickened her blood.
Was it not its own kind of softness, the worship that Taevas promised in that low, bass murmur? Surely even her grandfather and the generations of queens’ partners who stretched behind him couldn’t find fault with that.
Alashiya gave herself a swift internal shake. Her dragon had away of casting a spell on her, pulling her in despite her very real concerns. That was its own form of danger. Her gut told her that he was genuine, but what did it matter when they were so completely incompatible? If it wasn’t their traditions that made the case, it was their lifestyles.
Taevas wasn’t Adon. He did not belong safely in her imagination. If he was telling the truth, then he had responsibilities that were so much bigger than she could imagine. He couldn’t stay with her, serve her, or help her rebuild that which had been broken beyond repair.
He wasn’tsafe.
“You need to rest,” she told him, cutting her gaze away. “Eat and go back to sleep. You need your strength.”
The hand that so gently brushed her curls back behind her ear skimmed her shoulder before it fell away. “My Shiya?—”
Setting his breakfast down, she climbed to her feet once more and turned to leave. It was unnatural to abandon her work, but the idea of sitting in the room with him for a moment longer, doing that sacred act of care for a man who did and did not exist, made her stomach curdle. It was too intimate. Too close to all the things she longed for.
She was at the door when his voice stopped her. It wasn’t just the sound, but the tone which froze her steps. Speaking in a low, dark voice, he told her, “This is the last day, Alashiya.”
Her heart lurched.Last day?
Was he leaving already? A hot wave of panic washed over her. Of course he wanted to leave. He had to, and really, she wanted him to go, too, didn’t she? But in an instant, she realized how awful the prospect was.
To lose AdonandTaevas in the span of a day— She braced one hand on the door jamb, trying to anchor herself so she wouldn’t fall into that dark hole beneath her feet again.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, risking a wide-eyed look over her shoulder.
