Feray rolls her eyes. "Okay, Dad..."
A ring of smoke escapes Diaval's nostrils, and I have to muffle a laugh. The grumpy ancient, reduced to smoke signals by a slip of a wolf. If I weren't so exhausted, I'd savor the moment more.
"Next time, please ask me to accompany you on your endeavor. I would hate to see you suffer from a sting." Gently, I stroke her cheek, and she leans into my touch, closing her eyes. The trust in that simple gesture—the way she offers me her vulnerability without hesitation—makes my chest tight with emotion. She's very responsive. Every touch, every gentle word, she soaks it up like a flower turning toward the sun. How long has she gone without this? How long has she been starved for affection, for gentleness, for someone who touches her simply becausethey want to? I vow silently to make up for every moment of tenderness she's been denied.
"Okay, lovebirds, we're close to the Crossroads Inn. We have less than an hour to reach our destination." Diaval announces as he pulls back onto the road.
Feray lies back down, using me as her pillow. Her hand finds mine and tangles our fingers together, holding on like I might disappear if she lets go. Something about her body against mine settles something within me—a restlessness I didn't even know I carried.
It's her. It's always been her...my bird says as he fights to look at her through my eyes. Even exhausted, even retreated to the depths of my consciousness, he wants to see her. I relent and allow him to gaze upon her. He croons to her softly, a phoenix's love song, and I feel the vibration in my chest. She hums contentedly in response, pressing closer.
Slowly, my eyelids become heavy, and I tighten my grip around her as her body becomes pliant. The rhythmic motion of the car, the warmth of her against me, the quiet sounds of her breathing—it all combines into a lullaby I didn't know I needed. For the first time in centuries, I don't fear sleep. I don't dread the dreams that usually haunt me—memories of loss, of flames that couldn't save the ones I loved, of an eternity spent alone. Tonight, I'll dream of her. Of honey and fire and gray-blue eyes. Of a future I never thought I'd have.
Sleep takes us together as the world fades to black.
Chapter 6
Feray
"Time to wake up..."Torben's voice sounds in my ear.
"Five more minutes." Easton turns us away from Torben's voice. I feel my legs slide over his thighs as his arms band tighter around me. The warmth radiating from his body keeps trying to pull me under. I bury my nose under his jaw and breathe deeply, taking in his scent.
The rich scent of bergamot fills my nostrils. Its citrus-like complexity matches him perfectly—similar to lime, but with floral, herbal, and resinous undertones. Warm hands grip me and slowly pull me away from Easton. A whine escapes my lips as panic seizes me. My eyes fly open, and I'm ready to shift to escape until I realize it's Torben who has hold of me. Looking around, my eyes land on the inn where we're apparently staying tonight.
Diaval takes me from Torben and tucks me under his arm, tight to his side. "Stay close and silent. No one needs to know you're a wolf if they're looking for you. Tregar will take our secret to the grave, and I wish not to lose one of my oldest friendsover a visit." Diaval's dragon croons softly, and his scent grows stronger.
Khal leans in briefly and smiles. "He's masking your scent, making his stronger. Being as ancient as he is, the others won't question his claims." He gives me a nod, then channels his best impersonation of his brother. In the blink of an eye, Khal transforms from sweet and happy to stone-cold and angry-looking, complete with black sunglasses.
Diaval must feel me flinch at Khal's change. "He's doing it for your safety. Come along, no more time for delay." Diaval heads toward the inn from where we parked, and I finally get a good look at the building.
The Crossroads Inn stands at the confluence of four winding roads—a masterpiece of grandeur constructed from massive, gnarled oak trees that bear the marks of centuries gone by. Its exterior is adorned with intricately carved dragon motifs, each scale and claw brought to life in remarkable detail. Two towering dragon statues guard the entrance, their fiery eyes gleaming as though ready to unleash their breath upon any unwelcome intruders.
Inside, a cavernous common room greets us with a warm hearth. A colossal dragon's head hangs above the roaring fire, flames dancing in its mouth. The atmosphere is both cozy and mystical. Rare dragon scales adorn the walls, delicate yet resilient, casting shimmering patterns of light across the room.
At the heart of the inn, a massive ornate bar is tended by a lively innkeeper who apparently knows Diaval. "Diaval!" He jumps the bar and approaches swiftly. An unrestrained rumble escapes Diaval's lips as his body goes instantly rigid, causing the man to stop short.
"I mean your inamorata no harm, old friend." He raises his hands in a placating manner, and I feel the tenseness drain from Diaval.
"It's very new. Forgive me." Diaval states plainly, then passes me off to Khal. "Protect her at all costs." At Diaval's command, Khal lowers his sunglasses, glaring at the room.
"You didn't need to bring a basilisk here. My people can keep you and your inamorata safe." He says to Diaval, then turns to the rest of us. "Name's Tregar, and this is my inn. I've reserved the third floor for the five of you, as Diaval requested." He looks back at Diaval briefly, then returns his attention to us. "We'll send dinner to your suite since my old friend seems very on edge. A mating drake is nothing to mess with." He turns his gaze back to Diaval, watching him.
"What do you mean by a mating drake is nothing to mess with?" I direct my question at Tregar since Diaval seems super secretive.
Before Tregar can answer, Diaval is in my face, gripping my jaw, making me look up into his eyes as they shift to the silver serpentine slits of his dragon. "There are three times a drake is extremely formidable. When he has taken a mate, when his mate is in season or with child, and when he knows he's about to die." He cocks his head at an angle and looks down at me. "Do you understand?" His tone does funny things to my insides. Perhaps it's the dominance pouring off him. More than likely, it's because he's finally acknowledging I am his.
"I do." Lowering my head, I bare my neck to him, and he presses his nose over my pulse point.
"I need to tend to my inamorata. Send the food posthaste." Diaval pulls me toward the stairs and motions for Khal to go first.
We ascend the stairs, and I watch Khal take them two at a time. He reaches the only door on the floor and points to his eyes, then mimes putting his hand over them. I do one better—I turn around and press my forehead against Diaval's chest, using his frame to block my view. Diaval turns us, and he presses his lips to the crown of my head before spinning me around. Incredible heat appears in front of me, and powerful arms pull me forward.
"I've got her." Easton's honeyed voice soothes me as he envelops me in his warmth. He pulls me back with him, and I feel his body hit the wall as he keeps my head turned away from the room. "Stay with me, my flame. Let the others do what they must." Between his rich citrus scent and the bone-melting warmth his body gives off, I'm lulled into a state of relaxation.
"Are we safe, Easton?" Slowly, I raise my head to look up at him. He presses my head back to his chest but allows me to look up at him.
"Safe is a relative term. Can we protect you? Absolutely. Will your attackers die? Definitely." His fingers thread through my hair, working through some knots.
