“Where are we going?”
To our plateau.
Ourplateau. His phrasing warms my heart, but… “Why aren’t we going straight home?”
My reasons will soon become clear.
Anxious to be home, I want to argue, but I trust Zogar. And it’s not like I have a choice. I sense trepidation in his emotions, and wonder if the demons are following. Does he plan to wait here in Lymbo until he’s certain that nothing evil followed us into Lymbo?
Not answering my unspoken questions, Zogar slows to hover over the plateau. A loud clanging thud fills the still air.Something landed on the plateau. Zogar touches down, and I spot several bags of gold and treasures not far from us.
He carried that heavy load, all this way?When in human form, it seemed impossible that he could carry all those bags in his arms and draped over his body, but it seems even more impressive that he carried them in the grips of his talons as we flew.
His knot releases, but I linger on his pommel, not yet wanting to disconnect, and hoping to encourage him to take flight again. “Are we leaving the gold here for safe keeping? Do you want me to put the bags over your back?” They’re very heavy, but if I do it bit by bit…
Dismount, my love. I have something important to tell you.
“I hope you can tell me quickly,” I say. “Every day we spend here is a month in the Light.” I said month, the word that’s used in the Darkness in the place of moon cycle—further proof I’ve been away for too long. I’m beyond anxious to return to the Light, to learn what’s become of Tynan and Saxon over the time we’ve been separated.
Zogar shifts beneath me, making it even more clear that he wants me to dismount.
His wing is fixed at the gentle angle again, and I’m tempted to tell him that I can manage it steeper, but why do anything that will prolong our time here.
I slide down, and step away.
He transforms in seconds and then, in a flash of blue light, everything around us also transforms. The plateau returns to how it looked the day we first came here—the day that wemarried. The same lush gardens, the same floral-scented breeze, the same illusion of sunlight.
The same bed.
I love Zogar. And even before I knew that, I loved having sex with him, but no part of me wants that right now. Not only am I eager to return to the Light, as quickly as possible, I can’t shake the threat of Gabreal’s studded member pressed against my entrance, or the permanent damage it would have done inside me.
Someday—Othrix willing—I will have sexual thoughts that aren’t haunted by that demon, but now, my entire body trembles at the idea.
Zogar lifts me into his arms and holds me tightly against him. His richly masculine scent, his protective hold, the tickle of his chest hair, they all work together to dilute my fear and slow my racing heart. I bury my face in his neck as he strides toward the bed.
Tightening my fingers’ grip on him, I lift my head so I can look into his eyes. “Can we wait until we get home? Time passes so slowly here, and…” How can I tell him I don’t want to have sex right now? I don’t want him to feel rejected.
“I thought you might want to rest before we speak—” Changing direction, Zogar carries me past the garden’s fountain toward the arch where we spoke our vows, and the scent of roses fills my senses. The arch is covered in even more roses than the last time, more roses than seems possible, and the pinks and reds and purples erase every trace of where we truly are.
Suddenly, we’re wearing the same clothes we wore on the day we wed. He’s in a silk chemise, velvet trousers and fur trimmedcloak, and I’m in the flowing, pale silver gown. The only difference is the addition of my ring, and the necklace resting against my chest, its rubies dangling between my breasts.
I stroke the ring band with my thumb to confirm it’s there, and my impatience to leave is momentarily pushed aside by gratitude. Zogar has taken great care to create this beautiful setting. Whatever he wants to tell me, it must be important.
“Is it something you learned, while searching for Gabreal?” I hate the taste of the demon’s name on my tongue.
He shakes his head, and then sets me down on my feet, but still holding me steady.
“Do you want to make a plan for when we land across the veil?”
“Hush,” he says gently. “Let me say this. Please.”
Holding my tongue, I wait patiently, cognizant that every moment here is so much more time in the Light. It’s already been so long since I’ve seen Tynan or Saxon, and I try to imagine what camp is like now. There must be many dragons who can shift and take flight without riders. Perhaps, while we’re here, Saxon and Tynan will fly through the veil to free more.
I keep these hopeful thoughts to myself. The sooner Zogar’s done telling me whatever this is, the sooner we can continue our journey. His eyes show a hint of nervousness—a strange look on my self-assured husband—so, I draw a deep breath, resolving to show him more patience, to let him speak when he’s ready. He wouldn’t be delaying our return, without a good reason.
His hands, holding mine, tremble slightly, but as he looks deeply into my eyes, his uncertainty shifts into a combination of affection and desire.
My belly flutters, and my nerves shift and dance. His gaze has awoken my own desires, and I’m glad that Gabreal didn’t completely kill that part of me. My gaze flicks down. Zogar is fully rigid under his trousers.
