He’d never become attached to one before. Not until Dareena. And the woman who held his heart in her precious hands was hundreds of miles away, far beyond his ability to protect or cherishher.
Alistair is one lucky bastard,he groused to himself as he put his feet up on the coffee table. If his father had been here to see it, he would have had a fit, but since Dear Old Dad had run off into the mountains with their treasure, he had no right to complain about how Lucyan treated his furniture. He and Drystan had moved into the king’s suite, since all the other available rooms were being used to treat the soldiers. The servants had already taken down the animal heads and would busy themselves replacing the linens and furniture once the soldiers were back on their feet. He couldn’t wait for Dareena and Alistair to come back so they could enjoy the spacetogether.
Speaking of Alistair, he wondered how his brother was faring. As much as he envied him for being able to stay by Dareena’s side, he also knew that his brother was likely in pain, or at least discomfort, right now. His spies had reported to him that the elves had paid the warlocks to help them cast a strong anti-dragon spell over the heartland of their kingdom, which would weaken any dragon who crossed the border and prevent them from either shifting or breathing fire. It was the equivalent of cutting Alistair’s balls off, and Lucyan was all too glad he didn’t have to endurethat.
Lucyan considered switching to port instead of whiskey, then a knock came at the door. Groaning, he heaved out of his chair and opened the door to find Shadley. The grave look on his face sobered Lucyan right up, and he opened the door wide to let the spymasterin.
“What is it?” he asked, closing the door behindthem.
“I’ve been investigating the Black Cloak Brotherhood, and something interesting has come to light,” Shadley said, taking a seat in one of the chairs by the fire. Lucyan retook his chair and poured a glass for both him and Shadley. “I have reason to suspect that the oracle is behind their sudden rise toprominence.”
Lucyan choked on his mouthful of whiskey. “The oracle?” he sputtered, once he could draw enough breath to speak. “But he is the dragon god’s mouthpiece. What reason would he have to support a cult that is the antithesis of whom heserves?”
“I don’t know, and these are only suspicions as of yet,” Shadley warned. “But rumor has it that behind closed doors, the oracle is telling people that he worries that perhaps Dareena used some kind of warlock trick to fool everyone into believing the dragon god had given her his blessing. He says that it would explain why such tragedy has befallen the royal family—Dragomir running off without formally abdicating or choosing an heir, you and Alistair not stepping aside for Drystan, and, of course, the Dragon’s Gift stringing along all three of you instead of choosingone.”
Lucyan gritted his teeth. “She’s not ‘stringing along’ any of us,” he said. “Ours is a mutually agreed upon relationship, and we have reason to believe the dragon god himself has blessed it.” Dareena had told Drystan about the prophecy she’d found before she and Alistair had left. Of course, soothsayers spouted gibberish all the time, but they also spoke true prophecies from time to time, and that one had been quitespecific.
Shadley shrugged. “Be that as it may, all of this coupled with the recent military defeat is lending credence to the idea that Dareena may not belegitimate.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Lucyan slammed his glass on the table. “I won’t stand for this,” he said, shooting to his feet. “I’m going to visit the oracle immediately and demand he recant these viciousrumors.”
“Your Highness.” Shadley got to his feet and gently grabbed Lucyan by the elbow before he could storm off. “It’s the middle of the night. The oracle is hardly in any position to be receivingvisitors.”
“Oh. Right.” Lucyan blinked, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. He’d imbibed far too much tonight. “Well, what do we know about the oracle, Shadley?” he asked, resuming his seat. “I confess I’ve never been much interested in religion and have not spoken to him much. I’ve only ever seen him the times Mother and Father dragged us to the temple for some ceremony or other, but I remember him being a nice enough man. Why would he turn on us after all theseyears?”
“It’s odd,” Shadley said, leaning back in his seat. The firelight reflected in his dark eyes as his gaze grew contemplative. “Before your mother’s death, the oracle spent most of his time at the temple and rarely came to Dragon’s Keep unless he was called. But after she passed, he and your father became quite close. I daresay he was a trustedconfidante.”
“Thatisodd,” Lucyan said, tapping his forefinger against his chin. “The oracle is supposed to be above politics. Why the sudden change inbehavior?”
Shadley shrugged. “I asked him about it once, and he merely said that the dragon god urged him to take a more active role in the goings-on of the kingdom,” he said. “I couldn’t very well argue with him since he is the only person who ever talks to the dragongod.”
“And why is that?” Lucyan demanded. “If we dragons are supposed to be descended directly from the gods, why does he talk to some human instead of us? Why don’t we have a directline?”
Shadley blinked in surprise. “But you do,” he said. “Every dragon has the ability to commune directly with ourgod.”
Lucyan stared. “Why do I not know aboutthis?”
“I’m surprised your father never told you. Luckily, I read about it myself a few years ago while doing research in the library. We can go down there right now, if you like, and see if I can unearth thatpassage.”
“Please, lead the way,” Lucyan said, hope stirring in his chest for the first time. The library held some fond memories, as he and his brothers had spent so much time down there with Dareena. It seemed only fitting that he’d find an answer to their problems between the dusty pages of an old tome, as Dareena had done for them before she’d been takenaway.
11
The next morning,Lucyan rose bright and early and called for his horse to be saddled. By the time he’d returned from the library, Drystan had been fast asleep in bed, and he saw no reason to wake his brother. Neither of them had gotten much sleep recently, so Lucyan merely left him a note informing him of his whereabouts before riding off to give the oracle a surprisevisit.
Targon Temple was a two-and-a-half-hour ride from Dragon’s Keep, and Lucyan used the time to think. Shadley had indeed come through with the secret ritual for how to commune with the dragon god, and he wondered if the oracle used the same method, or if the dragon god spoke to him through different means. Had his father ever spoken to the god? If he had, Lucyan couldn’t imagine it had been recently. Why had the dragon god allowed their father to descend into madness? If they truly were his descendants, should he not have done something tointervene?
What if the oracle is right?an unbidden voice whispered in his head.What if Dareena really isn’t the Dragon’s Gift, and all their suffering is the dragon god’s way of punishing us for choosingwrong?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. Of course Dareena was the Dragon’s Gift. How else was it she could strengthen them every time they made love? He’d seen Drystan shift just before he’d lost consciousness during that fateful battle and had felt the hot flashes and intermittent weakness himself. Dareena had changed them, and was bringing them closer together with every kiss andcaress.
Gods, how he missed her. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the feel of her lips on his flesh, the way her luscious curves molded perfectly into his hands as he ran them down her bare body. His cock began to harden at the mere thought of her standing before him, those perfect breasts jutting proudly from her chest, her thighs parted just wide enough for him to catch that flash of pink petals beneath her thatch of darkcurls.
Wrong time, wrong place,he scolded himself, shifting uncomfortably in his saddle. He forced himself to think about the oracle’s wrinkled face instead, and exactly what he would say to the old bastard when he sawhim.
Eventually, the woods surrounding him grew quiet, a familiar, hushed reverence permeating the chilly air. Up ahead, the trees gave way to a wide clearing, and Lucyan could clearly see Targon Temple, the most sacred place in all of Dragonfell. Despite the feelings of anger and bitterness the oracle had inspired in him, a sense of peace and contentment swept over Lucyan as he drewcloser.
The oracle himself might not have the purest intentions, but there was no doubt in Lucyan’s mind that this was a holyplace.
