“It’s like the people who lived here relied only on secrecy to keep this place safe.” I nod, just as confused as Bjorn about the point of this city.
Because these underground halls are massive, decked out to the nines, though most of it has gone to rot and ruin. The enormoussilberskraebed here could sleep ten people, despite its threadbare wool mattress and tattered, sky-blue bedding.
Not only that, but everything is ridiculously ornate; as we take in the towering stone vaults all around, I note how the whitesilberskraedoors and everything else have been lovingly carved with stylized Blood Dragons, inlaid with ancient silver and gold runes.
Ornate stone andsilberskraetables and chaises occupy the gargantuan space, everything done in sky-blue silk and embroidered with silver and gold thread.
In traditional Blood Dragon style, furs decorate the space as well, our classic Celtic-style knotwork carved into every nook and vault. The entire place looks almost Elvish or Fae, however; I’m not entirely certain our people didn’t team up with some Elves to build this place, though we’re currently baffled by the point of it all.
I’m about to ask Bjorn what he thinks our chances of survival here are, if Litha and the Black Dragon come calling—when Ström suddenly returns. As my Second Drake pushes in through the towering doors, I hear his smooth chuckle, letting me know he’s found something interesting during his time away.
Bjorn and I turn; Ström’s grinning like a fool as I break from my First Drake, excited by whatever he’s found. Lifting an eyebrow, I crack a smile as well, because Ström’s good nature is just that ridiculously infectious, and always has been.
I feel how his energy soars now, despite how tired he still is. Because Ström loves nothing more than a good mystery; the more full of arcane artifacts, the better. If he wasn’t a Jarl-Heir, I’d have thought he might have been a Blood Dragon Indiana Jones or something. And he’s found something now.
Something that warrants this massive smile he’s got.
Despite everything we’ve been through, I feel my spirits rise to Ström’s vast, magnetic joy. It sweeps me as he moves forward and gathers me into his arms; as he melds close, my Second Drake gives me the most ridiculously passionate kiss.
He glorifies in the fact that we’re still alive; not to mention whatever mystery he’s found, which has me heating up hard now with curiosity, alert.
As I feel him become alert in his own way now.
Aroused—and eager to share.
3
REFLECT
As Ström kisses me, giving me the most blisteringly scalding embrace ever, long and decadent, he knows what he’s doing. Even in my fatigue, my inner dragons roar to his bright passion; as everything inside me scorches to his eager heat at whatever mystery he’s discovered, I feel my ardor careen, reckless, despite my exhaustion.
I’m all-too-aware we haven’t been together since Chambord as he pulls back now, his bright emerald gaze rapacious with sex and intrigue. His eyes blaze with a ring of crimson around the green, the eyes of his dragon staring out at me from his princely, handsome face.
As he grins, he revels in leaving me hanging from whatever mystery he’s got. Dressed in russet warrior’s leathers tooled with copper and gold, his short, tawny hair is rucked up into a sexy mess as his full lips grin.
His arcane outfit looks almost too good on his tight, fit frame. Like the sexiest Disney prince with the naughtiest thoughts, Ström takes in my attire now, impressed at the tawny battle-leathers I’ve found.
I glorify in his appreciation; because with my tall warrior’s build and strong curves, I’m a lot to look at, clad head-to-toe in tight leather. I know it, as I toss my blonde mane back over my shoulder.
Only to get my fingers tangled in it—ridiculously mussed, as it still is from sleep.
Ström barks a laugh, as he gives me the hugest smile. He has me blushing now as I try to untangle my long hair and fail.
He doesn’t care, though, as he laughs a second time and nets me close. Ström kisses me again, making me feel hot and bothered now, and so, so cherished, as my First Drake looks on.
My inner dragons growling with pride for my Second Drake, as they surge all through me.
“I felt that, drakaina.” Ström grins as he finally pulls away, lingering with one hand at my waist, even as he gives me a bit of space now.
“I’m sure you did.” I sass him, feeling good, despite everything. Because even though we’ve gone through hell these past few days, it makes the good times that much better. I feel that knowledge shine between Bjorn, Ström, and me, even though Baldur’s curses still pull at us.
Needing to enjoy the hell out of these good times when we can.
“All our dragons are rising a lot more strongly now, after some food, rest, and warmth.” Bjorn lifts a level eyebrow at me and Ström, now that we’re done kissing. He reaches out, putting a hand to my other hip in a moderately possessive gesture, though far less than it used to be around Ström. “I won’t be surprised if we can shift again soon, and get out of here.”
“First thing’s first: we need Baldur to wake,” Ström counters as he eyeballs the bed. “Because we can’t go anywhere with him still in stasis. Or do anything even remotely helpful for our situation or our King, fighting-wise.”
“Though I’m itching to get back into the fray against our enemies, Ström’s right: we can’t do anything for anyone without all of us back in fighting shape.” I haul my long hair over my shoulder, picking out the knots now, and raking my fingers through it as I eyeball my drakes. “We’re here; whatever this place is, it’s got what we need to eat, sleep, and rest. We need to recover here as much as we can, because we’re no use to anyone ifwe can’t even muster anything close to our fullest power. Which we can’t right now, with Baldur’s curses from the Black Dragon still draining us.”
