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Her breath leaves her in a great sigh, and a slow grin lights up her face. “I know. But why now?”
I shrug, clapping a hand to Syphe’s back. “Who knows? He’s been after the crown for years.” My fists clench. “He did seem overly interested in Tatha.”
“Maybe he’s trying to make an impression?”
“If so, it’s wasted on her.”
She tilts her head at me as we move together out of the pool room. I pull my locs back, squeezing the water from my hair. “I trust you’ll keep everything in order while I’m in the mountains.”
“Of course, Sire.”
“Do you and Bran have any plans for Moneria?”
A blush colors Syphe’s skin at the mention of her Mate, and her fingers play with the leather and bronze Mating cuff on her left wrist. Syphe is one of the lucky few to have found her fated Mate. And now I’m among those small numbers.
“No. Not really. We plan to attend the planting of the seed, maybe a drink or two, but we really just want to ring in the new year at home.”
“In each other’s arms.”
Her lips press into a cute smile, but then a scowl drops in place, her bronze eyes flaring with rage once again. “If that green mucus sack ruins Moneria, I’ll …” She glances at me, a flash of fear widening her eyes slightly.
“I won’t tell you not to worry, because I know you will. But trust me, Syphe. I’ve fought and won thirty-seven Challenges. Soon to be thirty-eight.”
She shakes her head, a small smile coming back to her face. “Well, just so you know, if the unthinkable happens, I’ll Challenge Inchel immediately and take back your kingdom.”
“I’m both flattered and insulted.”
Our shared laughter floats down the hall, bouncing off the burnt-gold crystal walls that reflect the last rays of the sun.
“Go have dinner with your Mate, Syphe. I’ll see you when I return, and we will toast my win over a drink at the Moneria celebration.”
And if I have my way, I’ll be whisking my own Mate to my bed to bring in the new year properly.
4
TATHA
The hours of tense muscles and muted senses disappear as soon as my Dragon tingles over my skin and my wings spread wide. My forked tongue licks the air, tasting snow from the mountains. Home calls to me, and the image of my father curled in his nest deep in our beautifully carved caves tightens my chest.
Launching off the ground, I’m airborne. The beauty of the valley steals my attention, distracting me from the painful thoughts of my father. The red grass waves and bends under the currents created by my wings. My talons dip in the large east lake, leaving ripples in my wake. I dance around the large, fluffy clouds, the mist clinging to my body, glimmering over my gold-flecked purple scales. And when I burst from the clouds, throwing my wings wide, the soft light of the setting sun reflects off my body as I hang in suspension for a long moment.
I fly for a full hour before touching back down outside the border of the castle gardens. The sharp pull of my dragon melting into my human form scratches at my skin, and my eyes immediately start burning again without my second lid. But the peace and relaxation from my flight stays with me, like a sun-warmed blanket.
My soft boots make little sound as I cross the gravel paths of the gardens, brushing my hand over the evergreens and winter roses. We don’t have these varieties high in the mountains, and their beauty in the face of winter is captivating.
Stepping back into the castle, I brace for that closed-in feeling, but it’s not as bad as earlier today. The caves within my Mountain are vast, and though the castle is grand, it seems tiny compared to my home. But the crystal walls and exorbitant windows make the structure feel open and airy.
Pausing in a hallway, I press my fingers to the wall, the cool smoky crystal almost glowing with the last rays of the sun. I … like it—this place. It feels … I can’t place it, but it’s like a cool dip in water on a hot summer day. The castle is pleasant.
I’m so lost in the shimmering beauty of the crystal wall I don’t hear or smell the person until I feel a hand curl around my hip. My entire body goes rigid as they lean in, their hot breath tickling over my ear.
“You are most beautiful, Lady of the Mountain. I watched you flying. You are?—”
My elbow snaps back, cracking against Inchel’s cheek. His head whips back, and I spin, shifting my nails with a thought, raking my talons down his chest. He hisses in pain, but my momentum carries me too far, and I stumble over my human feet. Widening my stance, I lift my leg to knee him in the balls, but he blocks it and slams his arm across my throat, pinning my back to the wall.
My head thunks into the crystal as Inchel growls in my face. “How dare you!”
I shove against him, but my human form is unfamiliar and awkward. I squirm but remain pinned. Argh! I HATE being human! Pinning him with a glare, I snarl, “I don’t like to be touched uninvited.”
