“My sister is at peace. Finally.” The saddest, most beautiful smile takes him. His gaze flicks up, and his dark blue and blazing sky-opal eyes pin me with such a fierce energy that I’m swept away by them.
Undone by the power in thatgaze.
“Thank you. For bringing her home to me so she could finally rest,” he says. Lifting the scale to his lips, he kisses it gently.
Then sets it aside on a table, empty now of the soul it once held.
“I saw Hekla’s last moments at Riksfold. She fought valiantly,” I say now, because though I know Baldur’s said he’s not a warrior, I can feel that furious energy still churning inside him, way down deep beneath his learned calm.
“She always did.” His lips quirk into a smile again, as I feel simultaneous peace and fury inside him.
It’s a heady and potent combination; if Bjorn and I had a thousand years to perfect our hard-won techniques to calm our vast rage, we still might not even approach what Baldur can do with his power.
It makes me wonder yet again how old he is, but before I can even ask, he says, “One thousand and seven years. A drop in the bucket compared to my sister, who was nearly two thousand at the time of her death at Riksfold.”
“How did your parents have babies so far apart?” I’m astonished now, and curious, because it’s extremely rare for Blood Dragon couples to live that long, much less have children all through that immense a time span.
Baldur’s smile becomes sad now, beautifully wistful, as he regards me. “My parents, Hans and Embla Sigurðsson, were champions of their time and deeply in love. They lived a thousand years, though they had only two children in all that time and were killed in battle for their King just five years after I was born. I have few memories of them, though all my memories are good ones. My sister Hekla raised me after that. She was a Bloodwalker like you, though I am merely destined to be a Bloodwalker’s second Blood Drake and Fourth in her bond. Which I am content with, all things considered.”
“Your sister was a Bloodwalker? And a visionary, able to see the future, wasn’t she?” I ask now, knowing that my drakes and I have received both the benefit and the curse of Hekla’s visionary power from herenergy in the Void.
“She was a seer-type Bloodwalker, yes.” He nods. “She had true visions of futures to come. Not all of them came true, but most did. Timelines can change; no future is ever set in stone. But she saw many things… and saw what needed to come to pass, to save the world from devastation.”
“The black Dragon of All Souls. The Usurper. She saw it killing our world in a vision, didn’t she?” I ask now, feeling to my very blood and bones it’s true, as Aesa’s stone rings upon my chest.
“She did. And she did everything she could in her vast lifetime to prevent it,” Baldur says now as he regards me, before heaving a deep sigh. “But we will speak of those things soon. For now, since you are a guest in my home and your First Drake is out, probably for the entire night until he is recovered enough to wake, would you do me the honor of accompanying me out to the hot springs? It’s been a long, unsteadying day and I could use an evening soak. What say you?”
As I gaze at him now, I feel no threat from Baldur Sigurðsson. He knew we were coming; he’s known about me all his life from his sister’s visions, and I know he means us no harm.
Still, I hesitate to be alone with him, after everything that’s gone so disastrously sideways with Mikkel whenever he and I were alone together. Reading my mind yet again, Baldur just smiles and says, “I am not your Third Drake. I can handle my libido, under any situation.”
“Can you?” I say, as I sense a sudden hint of innuendo from him.
“Oh, yes.” His eyes darken as that innuendo is confirmed.
And I understand then that Baldurwantsto be alone with me. To suss out everything that may be between us—even though we don’t know each other at all yet.
“Alright, then,” I say now, because I know Bjorn will be just fine, left here in Baldur’s home. “But that mud puddle of a hot springs out front is hardly luxurious, and was barely above body temperature when I was in it last.”
“Good thing there’s a far better hot springs out back, which is decidedlyhotter.” Baldur gives me that little smile again, and it’s devouringly hot.
Still, I feel he has impeccable control not just over his star-fire power but over his libido as well. I get not a single touch of his dragon’s immense energy surging out to touch me now, much less mate-taste me like he did at The Vault.
Baldur’s given me a sample of what he truly is, and of what lives beneath his cool-as-a-cucumber artist’s perfection. I know there’s far more, however, as he invites me towards a rear staircase leading up from the main house, out a far door.
I hesitate to rise from the couch now—it means I have to leave my swaddling blanket behind. But it’s nothing Baldur’s not already seen; with a quick sigh, I flip the blanket back and push up to standing, letting him see me now in my full glory, butt-ass nude before him.
“Beautiful. So beautiful,” he says now, though his eyes don’t rove my figure one bit. It’s as if he’s talking not about my body but my soul, as his deep blue eyes penetrate me to my core.
Making me feel far more naked than I’ve ever felt in my life.
“Come. This way,” he says again before I can respond, gesturing us towards the rear stairs. Blessedly, he takes the lead, but not before letting his eyes course down my entire body and back up in one great big, decadent slide.
“And I mean both your body and your mind, Hög Skjaldmær, in addition to your warrior’s fury and your incredible savior’s soul.” He pins me with those eyes, then turns, leading the way out of his home as I’m left trailing in his wake.
Furiously blushing like I haven’t done since my teens.
15
