“It should be easy to sprinkle this throughout this crostini and wine bar the talented chefs in this house have created. May Renny forgive me for taking such a bold step without discussing it with anyone. I know of my rashness, but this decision feels right. I will contend with the consequences. And I will ensure everyone partakes, even the small familiars. I have no wish to know what happens if any sorcerer is separated from any part of their soul. Thank you, Faedrekan. I am most appreciative of your gifts.”
Rorie kissed them both and offered hugs; then he ventured indoors to commence with his plan. Only Bétea herself could save him if the D’Vaires decided he had a price to pay for his actions, but Rorie allowed himself no fear as he moved forward with the concealed and enchanted scales in his grasp. In his mind, a spellbound trip was the lone option for moving forward.
Chapter 7
High King Aleksander D’Vairedraconis smiled as a familiar pair of lips pressed against his. In his wildest dreams, he couldn’t have imagined a mate as wonderful as the one Fate gave him, and he didn’t particularly care what time it was—he had every intention of making love to Rafe. That thought in mind, he lifted his arms to wrap them around the sexy man who, much to Aleksander’s disgust, pulled his mouth away.
“Sander, you gotta wake up.”
If the alarm in Rafe’s voice wasn’t enough to get Aleksander’s hackles raised, the two wolves barking had his eyes popping open. “Shit, I didn’t sleep for six weeks again, did I?” Aleksander asked. His gaze landed on Rafe, and the concern on his face was unmistakable. “What’s wrong with your skin?”
“We can worry about the strange-ass scales on both of us in a minute,” Rafe instructed. “Where the fuck are we?”
Aleksander laughed. “This is our bed, babe.”
The scowl that made Aleksander’s belly flop in arousal whenever Rafe used it appeared. “Look around. This isn’t our room. I’m wearing a fucking nightgown for some reason. I know I didn’t put this shit on last night.”
Hastily scrambling his scattered senses, Aleksander took in the strange shirt Rafe was wearing. It came to midthigh and was nearly translucent. “You look damn good, but I don’t understand what’s wrong with your skin.”
Rafe hopped off the mattress that strayed far from the opulent space Larissa designed for him in the blue, black, and metallic colors that now represented Aleksander and his extraordinary other half. Aleksander’s attention zeroed in on the firm cheeks of Rafe’s ass, which were beautifully visible through his weird garment as he strode away and whipped open a curtain. “These clothes are almost medieval, but the weird shit is, they’re in our colors. Half of it is in our fucking dragonskins. Our D’Vaire swords are here too. I mean, what the fuck, Sander?”
“I don’t know,” Aleksander said, forcing himself to stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do with Rafe and focus on the world around him. Sitting up, he slung his legs over the side of the mattress and joined Rafe at the peculiar closet.
His mate was already yanking on clothing, and Aleksander realized it was oddly familiar. “This stuff reminds me of the stuff Drekkoril and Rorie wear. Well, when Rorie’s not in his onesies.”
“Why is there a fucking pond near the window?”
Aleksander was trying to process while he dressed, and his confusion only grew as he glanced over to where Rafe was pointing. Just inches from a stone wall of pale gold was a small lagoon that lapped against the floor. “I have no idea.”
“The water’s warm. Like a hot bath,” Rafe told him, dipping in his fingers.
“At least we get to wear cool boots.”
Rafe rolled his eyes as a knock sounded on their door. “Your priorities disturb me,” his mate said, stalking to answer it with the sentinel wolves at his heels.
“Oh, thank fuck I found you,” Brogan yelled once Rafe pulled open the thick gray wood separating them. The Grand Duke barged in with Dra’Kaedan at his side. Unlike the dragons, a cloak like what he’d wear to Council sessions partially hid Dra’Kaedan’s Faelike outfit. The normally exuberant warlock was quiet, and Aleksander was curious about his appearance.
“Why are you in true form? Did you have to cast a large spell?” Aleksander asked. A warlock normally reserved their hidden appearance for massive sorcery efforts, but Dra’Kaedan’s eyes were golden with dragon heads for pupils, and down half his body was an intricate scrollwork of navy and gold.
“I woke up this way and can’t revert to normal,” Dra’Kaedan explained with a frown.
A vine-covered druid appeared in the doorway with a worried dragon who bore the same barely-there scales on every other shifter. “What the hell is going on?” Killian the Dwyer demanded.
Rafe opened his mouth to reply, but Arch Lich Chander Daray stalked in. His normally pewter eyes were blood red, and the glorious demonic wings he kept hidden unless casting were trailing behind him, as were three cloaked sentinels. “Is this a spell?” Chander asked, placing his hands on his hips. An intricately designed cloak heavily embellished with skulls flowed around him.
“None of the sentinels can remove their cloaks outside the privacy of the bedrooms we woke up in,” Chander’s other half, Alaric, informed them. “They won’t go away.”
Somehow, it was no surprise to Aleksander when the emperors showed up next. “Explain,” was all Emperor Chrysander said. There was a golden Draconis sword attached to his side and a concerned elf-dragon with barely perceptible scales visible on his gilt-dusted skin holding his hand.
An eight-foot skeleton barely made it inside the door. “I can’t get into my human form,” Lich Reaper Grymington Daray announced. The reaper was cloaked, his glowing weapons crossed over his back.
Two Reverent Knights decorated in dragon scales and with a light, gray mist around their feet—which Aleksander realized also flowed under the sentinels in the room—marched in. There was hostility in their gazes, and Aleksander wondered what in the world was going on. Taking several steps, he wrapped an arm around Rafe. Whatever it was, they’d figure it out, and in the meantime, he would not let his mate out of his sight.
“I want some answers,” Lichpriestess Saura D’Vaire stated, piling in with several more D’Vaires, including Renny.
“I think we should find Rorie or Drekkoril,” Renny answered.
“Let’s find out if every D’Vaire is here,” Rafe said. “I want a headcount of both immediate and extended family.”
