It’s then that I feel Mikkel search to see if Baldur’s curses from the Black Dragon have abated any from what we did. But like Baldur is wont to do, my Fourth Drake blocks Mikkel’s searching; even as I try to get a sense of whether our sex just now helped Baldur at all, I feel him block me, as well. It makes me frown.
As I suddenly feel pissed at my secretive Fourth Drake.
“He’s not letting me in.” I scowl now, my good mood souring.
“Maybe he’s jealous,” Mikkel sighs, content, as he kisses my temple. “But I would risk Baldur’s ire anytime, for this.”
“You know you shouldn’t goad him, right?” I glance up at Mikkel now. “You’re strong, Mikkel… but Baldur’s wickedly powerful, with everything he’s got access to out in the stars. He could hurt you, and we both know it. Especially if he can shift right now and you still can’t.”
“I’ll take that chance,” Mikkel says as his eyes flare hot copper, ready. “But as far as goading him… I’ll tone it down, for your sake and for the sake of our Bloodbond. But Baldur needs to face his inner darkness, Rikyava, rather than run from it. You know it as well as I do. Else, our entire Bloodbond will never be as powerful as it needs to be, to face the Black Dragon when the time comes.”
“Let Bjorn work on it. For now,” I tell him firmly, as I look up at him. “Please?”
“For now,” Mikkel agrees, as he kisses my lips.
But I know the conflict between my Third and Fourth Drakes is not over yet, not by a long shot, as I feel Mikkel’s inner dragon stew.
Watchful for potential danger inside our Bloodbond.
Danger that doesn’t come from him.
9
FILL
As Mikkel shares intense insight into what Baldur hides with his vast inner rage, I know he’s got Baldur’s number. The two drakes have history, thanks to their long association through Mikkel’s clubs; it shows now, as Mikkel unleashes his electric-accurate truth bomb about my Fourth Drake, though none of us know the full truth of what Baldur hides.
Before we can say anything else, however, Mikkel’s belly rumbles hard. Mine follows suit; I’m famished, as I get a raging dose of dragon-hunger after our ridiculously hot sex.
Sex that has me debating if I want more already—it was that deliciously fucking good.
“Come on. No more nookie. We both need food,” Mikkel says decisively now, however, probably having read my mind through our Bloodbond. He pushes up, sliding off the bed naked and extending me a hand. “If you would allow me to escort you?”
“Where are we going?” I ask, though I give Mikkel my hand and let him help me down from the bed like a gentleman.
“Lærke and I discovered an area of the underground complex that haskitchens.” Mikkel has a rascally glee in his dark eyes now, almost like Ström. “Actually, it’s why we came to find you and your other drakes at the library hall; to tell you we had found quite a lot of food storage, besides what was already here in our rooms. Massive pantries, most of which still have hale preservation barriers over them. Not only that, but my sister and I have been taste-testing the glowing forest down here; Lærke and I have a natural immunity to poison because of our power. You’d be surprised; a lot of it is edible. The lizards, the mushrooms, the moss and dragonflies. While you all were checking out the library, we were hard at work doing something else as well. It’s a surprise, though. So you have to come find out.”
“Okay...” Warriors don’t like surprises, even on the best of days, and part of me is hesitant, though I’m also curious.
As Mikkel tugs me over to get dressed in our leathers, then we egress through the vaulted doorway of his suite, I’m intrigued. I feel his rogue energy crackle through me like a power sub-station now, renewed as we head to the dormitory passage.
It comes with a devious slide of his dragon coiling around me and tugging me along, even as part of me balks. I take a deep breath, letting him take me to whatever surprise he’s got; my curiosity piques as I recall he mentionedkitchens, and my belly rumbles to think of vast food stores down here.
As we enter a beautiful vaulted dining-hall-meets-atrium now, I see that the underground dining solar cascades with indoor fountains, which flow into natural pools teeming with fish. Birds with luminous feathers and white eyes soar through the archways, as glowing white vines blossom over everything in a riot.
Just like everywhere else down here, the greenery has run wild, though this place’s ancient, lost magic has preserved the stonework, if not the furnishings. Beautiful sky-blue silk settees are rotted, covered in flowering vines; chandeliers full of crystals throw the light everywhere, over tarnished silver, glass, and crystal tables.
We’re not stopping here, though, as Mikkel tugs me through the dining area to the kitchens he’s discovered. Ample, those kitchens aren’t like modern ones of steel and chrome as we push in through a set of toweringsilberskraedoors, but made of gleaming, smooth-polished alabaster stone and beautiful vaultedsilberskraetimbers.
With massive open fire-vaults, plus enormous ovens made of some kind of tarnished silver-white metal I can’t even begin to identify, it’s like an Elvish-Norse dream kitchen, with stone racks and prep tables everywhere, through the flowering vines and moss.
Clearly, this was intended as a place to cook for hundreds of people; behind massive vaults, I see ancient storerooms with insane food stores, covered by those same magical barriers that keep things hale in our rooms.
As we enter, I see figs, dates, pomegranates, plus oats and cornmeal to make hot cereal, and several other things that aren’t traditional Norse foods, already liberated from the stores and piled on one prep table.
I’m astonished, as Mikkel leads me over to the prep area and a set of stoves and ovens that have fires going, and I see one table positively laden with already-cooked food. Not just cooked, but ornate dishes fit for a five-star restaurant, as Mikkel whistles a jaunty tune now and whisks over to a set of ovens.
He opens the doors, sliding insilberskraepaddles—hauling out gourmet pizzas.
