With their little quiet time over, her nerves knotted at what awaited them in Lemuria.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
The Romanian mountainsloomed dark against the star-scattered sky, their peaks cutting jagged shadows in the moonlight. Ash shivered as she took in the desolate snow-covered granite plateau.
They’d barely cleared the abbey portal before Race dematerialized them to this barren place.
“Why are we here?”
“You’ll see.” Race grasped her hand, and his warmth flowed into her, chasing away the freezing chill.
Ash frowned at his secrecy as he pulled her along to the looming rock face, their boots crunching through layers of snow. He pressed his palm against the granite, and power thrummed in a wave. A section of stone dissolved, revealing a dark entrance.
“It seals when I’m away for long periods. When we get back, I’ll key your blood into the wards so you can access it, as well.”
“Your cave!” She grinned. Finally, she’d get to see his sanctuary.
Amusement brightened his eyes as he led the way through a narrow, tunnel-like passage and down a flight of dark, excavatedsteps. With a casual wave of his hand, lamps sprang to life, washing the stone in a gentle, golden glow.
Ash stopped dead, her breath catching.
Before her, a vast cavern sprawled, its walls scorched smooth by dragonfire over centuries.
High above, moonlight spilled through a single opening in the granite ceiling—it wasn’t meant for smoke or flame—there was none in his chamber.
It was for thestars.
For theoutsideworld.
“How?” she asked softly. “No snow inside?”
“Wards,” he said, behind her. “From above, it just looks like another peak. Safer that way.”
“Right.”
She stepped into his lair and wandered to the center, her boots echoing faintly on granite. After Lemuria’s crude caverns, she hadn’t expected…this.
A sanctuary. His.
Comfortable armchairs and a charcoal-gray couch formed the seating area on the far side, bearing signs of use. An open book lay where it had been abandoned on the cushions as if he’d only just stepped away. A sawn log served as a table, stacked with leather-bound volumes softened by age and handling. Music equipment occupied one corner, headphones tossed aside without ceremony.
And naturally, ancient weapons and artifacts hugged one rugged wall, silent proof of the long life he’d lived.
The décor was lived-in, except for the massive bed to her right, which sat on a raised dais, its bedding neat and untouched?—
Untouched, because he didn’t need it. There was room for both dragon and warrior to exist freely—no walls, no ceilings pressing in. No need for a bed at all.
Ash pressed her fist to her chest and turned.
Oh, goodness!She gaped. Opposite it all hung the largest tapestry she’d ever seen—of wildlands woven in primal, earthy tones. It held the chamber the way a horizon holds the eye.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“Glad you like it, my mate.”
“Did you do all this?” She spun to him and found him watching her take in his home.
