"Atlas –"
"We have a life after this war to live, Shaye. A life that propels me to keep going when things get tough." He cups my face, his eyes intense and pleading. "I need you. In every sense of the word, I need you. So, don't carry the guilt Astrea Talay has unfairly thrown at your feet. There's a future beyond the war. Cling to it, like I do."
I smile up at him, tears now streaming down my face. "You think of our future together?"
Atlas' smile melts me. "I do."
"And what do you see in our future?"
"I see a house in the Old Kingdom because you love how quiet and charming it is. And we'll have to hire a cook or bribe Finn to cook meals for us because neither of us has a hope in the kitchen," he paints a picture, and I can't help but chuckle. "And maybe, if you're willing, we can have a daughter who looks exactly like you."
"A daughter? Not a son?" I quirk a brow, knowing especially in Midori, sons are desired more than daughters.
"I'll have an army of daughters if you will allow it," he doesn't hesitate.
"I would hope one of them acts like you," I play into this dream as if I had created it myself. "So, I can fall in love with you all over again."
Atlas thumbs the tears from my face. "Whatever we face, we will face it together. Including Astrea Talay."
I nod, my bottom lip quivering.
"Promise me you will chase that dream with me," he presses his forehead to mine. "Promise me you will fight for us."
I know, even in this beautiful moment, I can't promise I won't die. No one can do that. But I can promise to fight. I can promise to chase the dream. And that's probably all the comfort and reassurance he really needs to keep pressing forward in spite of the storm headed our direction. "I promise."
"Good." He kisses me and his hands snake around to the back of my dress and unzips. "I'm picturing something happening tonight. Care to guess what that might be?"
My dress slides down my frame, pooling at my feet. "I would rather you show me." I breathe him in, wrapping my ankle around the back of his leg.
"Your wish is my command." Atlas picks me up and drops me on our bed.
Thirty
Shaye
It's the day before Ronan and Viella's wedding and the only progress made on the war front is the Bavans have agreed to join us, making them kingdom three out of five. Unfortunately, there's been no word on the Dwarves or the Hydrans involvement. Should the Dwarves decline to help, it would be a major blow to the cause. The expert craftsmen can produce the weaponry and armor we need to have a chance at winning this war. In my mind, the Hydrans won't join. They don't seem to be thego-the-extra-miletype, but their queen also thinks the answer is my head on a plate. So, they aren't exactly high on my list of potential allies.
I nearly fall off Seraxes' back when she twists to the left.Focus, focus.I internally chastise myself. Politics can wait. I need to be present during these flight training exercises. If I'm unseated, Thrane is sure to snap.
My cousin is in a mood this morning. He's short tempered – well, more than normal – and pushes all of us to the extremeduring training. I'm sure he's under quite a bit of pressure being the new Frost King and having to hold his own against the kings and queens of the realm. But I know my life being threatened rubbed him the wrong way. We have a plan. I am being watched over all day every day. Even though that would normally frustrate me because it's simply suffocating, I welcome the added layer of vigilance. I'm in no rush to die.
"Run the drill again!" Thrane screams the second we complete the course.
"The dragons need a break," Kamari yells back.
"The dragons or you?" His eyes narrow. A finger points up to the sky. "I said, run the drill again."
The Frost Dragons are compliant and spear back into the sky for one more run, but Vidarr refuses to budge. In fact, he lands in the arena, mere feet from Thrane. My cousin doesn't flinch.
Atlas has no control over the dragon or the situation. And how could he? Vidarr is an ancient dragon who doesn't take kindly to being ordered around. His act of defiance is essentially him telling Thrane to fuck off and I can't say I blame him. I wish I had the bravado to throw Thrane the middle finger.
Artax growls behind Thrane. Though he's significantly smaller than Vidarr, Artax won't be backing down from any fight if he has anything to say about it. He certainly is exactly like his rider.
Thrane stretches a hand out to Artax, silently ordering his dragon to stand down. My cousin smirks up at the beast, not deterred or frightened by Vidarr's fangs. I've never seen Thrane back down before, but it seems he's reconsidered his brutal training stance.
"Rest up," he says after a stretch of silence, tension thick in the air. "We will resume training after Prince Ronan's wedding. Don't show up drunk."
With that, Thrane motions for Artax to follow him and the beast obeys. Though not before baring his fangs at Vidarr onelast time. Artax won't permit Vidarr to touch what he deems his. Dragons are protective.
