“Wouldn’t want that.”
He lifted me from the water, setting me on the warm stone. Water streamed down his body, catching the low light, and I admired the view because I was exhausted, not dead.
He wrapped me in the softest towel I’d ever felt, drying me with the same careful attention he’d given everything else today. My hair, my arms, down my legs, gentle and thorough.
“I like taking care of you,” he rasped.
When he finished, he grabbed one of his tunics from the pile of clothes we’d brought. The fabric was soft, well-worn, and smelled like him. He pulled it over my head, and it fell to mid-thigh, the sleeves dangling past my hands.
“I look ridiculous,” I said, holding up my arms to show the excess fabric.
His eyes heated. “You look perfect. You look like my wife, wearing my clothes, in our rooms.” He pulled me close, his hands spanning my waist through the oversized tunic. “And it’s doing things to me that we don’t have the energy to explore right now.”
My belly flipped. “Another time?”
“Definitely.”
He dried and tugged on his own clothes and scooped me up again, carrying me into the sitting area where someone had left a tray of food on the table. The smell alone made my belly growl.
Raoul settled onto the sofa, keeping me in his lap. “Eat.”
“Bossy dragon.”
“Stubborn witch.” But his tone was fond as he reached for the plate, selecting a piece of cheese. “Open.”
I did as he asked, too tired to argue, and he fed me and himself meat, cheese, bread, and various vegetables, each bite carefully chosen. It made me feel cherished.
“Better?” he asked after we’d eaten almost everything on the plate.
“Yes.” I curled into his chest, my head finding the perfect spot under his chin.
I wasn’t sure when I drifted off. Or when he carried me to bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RAOUL
After working on the last formation the next morning, we flew to Goldwing. This flight felt shorter than our last one, maybe because Adele’s excitement thrummed through our bond like a second heartbeat. She leaned forward on my back, her fingers gripping a back spike, her mind racing ahead to the peaks we’d tackle.
Look at that ridge,she said, pointing.The tremor lines match Silvervale’s. The ice formations here might be even more exposed due to the western-facing slopes. That would explain the increased symptoms.
My amazing wife, already working on solutions mid-air. It made my dragon preen, even as the practical part of me worried about her pushing too hard again. She’d barely recovered from yesterday’s work in Silvervale, and here we were, diving straight into another problem.
We spotted Goldwing’s golden walls gleaming in the late morning sun, the peaks behind them jagged and snow-capped. I banked lower, aiming for the main courtyard where a small group waited. No hostile advisors this time,at least not visibly. King Trevare stood front and center, his posture relaxed, a smile breaking through the exhaustion still lining his face.
I landed smoothly, shifting once Adele had slid off. She straightened her tunic, and her braid might be a bit wind-tossed, but she looked every bit the queen.
“Raoul, Adele.” Trevare stepped forward to clasp my arm and then, surprisingly, do the same with Adele. “Thank the fates you’re here. My scouts got your message from Silvervale. If their babies are improving already…”
“They are.” A smile lifted on Adele’s face. “And yours will too, if we’re right about this.”
He nodded. “Come inside. We’ve got a late breakfast waiting, and my advisors are assembled. They’re eager to hear more.”
Eager might’ve been generous. As we followed him through the sunlit corridors, I caught the undercurrent in his voice. Trevare trusted us. He’d shown that last time. But his court? They’d been full of accusations and fear last time we were here.
The council chamber was smaller than Silvervale’s, with high windows letting in streams of light that danced off polished stone walls. A long table groaned under platters of fresh bread, cheeses, smoked meats, and fruits. Simple but hearty, the kind of spread that said they were grateful we were here, but they were eager to start business.
Trevare’s advisors numbered about a dozen, a mix of older dragon shifters with stern faces and younger ones who looked more curious than confrontational. They all rose as we entered, but I noted the crossed arms, the furrowed brows. One in particular, a woman with a scar across her cheek, eyed Adele like she was a puzzle that might explode.
