My hands fisted as the sound of “firebrand” rose, scraping already raw nerves to the quick.
Remain on guard.
Taron hoped to kill me. That hadn’t changed. He hated dragons with every fiber of his being, me most of all. But I wanted him protected from Lorik, and there was no better place to do it. Plus, we had ingredients to find.
“Here’s the list I promised,” Adelaide said, as casual as ever as she came up beside me, keeping pace and passing me a piece of paper.
Speaking of the bond breaker. The ingredients.
“There’s been no sign of Lorik,” she added.
Hmm. Considering Lorik believed he’d already won the battle between us, I didn’t like his silence. It felt deliberate, pointing to a secret plan I hadn’t yet unlocked.
I skimmed the list and groaned at the sheer volume. “So many.” Whatever. We’d do what needed doing. I stuffed the paper into a pocket of my leathers.
Sister Dearest glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “He’s cuter in person than in photos, ja? But how did he survive the traveling stones?”
Taron listened unabashedly. And responded. “You have photos of me?”
Say nothing. “I’ll explain later,” I told my sister.
“Rumor has it, he calmed you from a rage.” Her leadingtone drew my fiercest scowl. News was spreading fast. “Any thoughts? Comments? Questions?”
“Nein.”
“Too bad.” Unperturbed by my souring mood, my sibling branched off, stopping the approaching gaggle of council leaders and their assistants before they could reach us.
I led the procession to the doorway of my suite. “Wait out here,” I commanded our entourage, opening the door.
Taron entered the room first. I followed him in, sealing the door shut behind me. I so did not want this man in my bedroom, but where else could we be without eyes and ears?
His heavenly pine and cedar scent filled the enclosure in seconds, razing defenses I’d fortified on the journey. Needing a moment, I freed him from the chains and stowed them in my wall safe, along with the key. Relief flooded me. Good. This was good. The chains were now secured. Well, at least for a little while. But my desire to test him in fire didn’t dull.
When I turned and faced the professor, I found him in the same spot, examining the room with a critical gaze. Didn’t think an evil dragon like me deserved such whimsy? Whatever. “Anything to say?”
He dropped his pack at his feet and crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps flexing. “You asked if anything strange has been happening to me. The answer is yes.”
I waited for an explanation, trying not to spin out. “Say more,” I finally snapped.
A brutal scowl flashed. “You may be queen, but you are notmyqueen. Your wish isn’t my command. Baby, yourcommandisn’t my command. If you want answers, ask me nicely.”
Dang him, I wasn’t used to lacking power in a conversation. “Nicely,” I grated. But did he really call me ‘baby?’ And did I really like it, even as he defied my orders?
Taron eased his stance, releasing his arms and prowling about the room, starting several music boxes at once, just as I liked to do. He seemed to savor the sound, surprising me. Then he plucked a teacup from the top shelf. “I must admit, these surprised me.”
“Iknewit was you.” Confirmation irritated me on a thousand different levels. “You stole one, and I want it back.” More than ever, I hated that he’d been here. Mostly, I hated that I’d failed to catch him. “If you broke it, I swear you’ll regret it.”
“It’s still intact,” he grumbled. “And I might return it. Might. One day.”
Okay. All right. Feeling magnanimous, I told him, “Every dragon collects things. I select a teacup after each victory.” They were pretty. “It’s my tradition. Plunder, pillage and steep.” Adelaide collected spoons. Coffee mugs with passive-aggressive sayings covered Bronwyn’s shelves.I breathe fire before coffee.Freida kept half-burnt love letters and mentioned to anyone who commented, “I like the way they crinkle.”
Taron worked his jaw and returned the cup to its rightful place. “Which ones did you pillage after killing my father and grandfather?”
“None. I’ve never considered those deaths victories.”
Though not placated, he didn’t grow angrier, so…win. “I’ve dreamed of you,” he admitted softly. “Maybe experiencing your memories, maybe not. The angle I see isn’t…I’m not sure what’s going on.”
Reeling. The implications of this dragon hunter reliving my memories, learning my secrets, defenses againstshifters, treasures hoarded. Feelings. Secrets. “Tell me something you’ve seen. Please,” I added with only a tinge of irritation.
