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“If I were a few thousand years younger, I would get distracted too.”
I snort in laughter and Rarity hides her face in my chest, embarrassed.
“Anyway, what are you doing in the village, Prince Cailian? Without your guards. That is dangerous for you. You know that.”
“He has me,” I explain, tucking Rarity to my side. “He doesn’t need his guard.”
Anleer rolls his damn eyes at me before tapping his walking stick on the ground. “Typical dragon. Always so confident to protect, but you are no ordinary dragon. You are royalty too. Two of our royals, here, unprotected with a vampire who has purple eyes. Yes, yes, I can see where you would think you wouldn’t need protection.”
“Your sarcasm wasn’t asked for.” Fire begins to warm my chest and Rarity rubs the middle of my sternum, trying to get me to calm down.
“Oh good. I freely gave it if you did not— or could not— catch on. I hear dragons are a little—” he hits his head with his cane.
I step forward, snarling at the elf I could turn into a fucking kabob by shoving that walking stick right up his—
“—Okay, I think that is enough taunting our dragon, Anleer. We are here for a quick tour to introduce Rarity and Nyx to everyone.”
“Right, right. Apologies. It’s been a while since I had some fun. Apologies, Prince Dovenyx. You know, you look a lot like your father. Not as kind or even-tempered, but I can see where you are his son. This must not be an easy mating, considering…” Anleer implies.
“We are working through it,” I bite, hating to be reminded. Every time I think I am getting ahead of the damn past, it catches up with me.
Anleer nods, whistling as he turns around and walks away. His walking stick thuds against the ground, leaving small circular indentations in the snow.
“He was lucky to have survived that conversation, Cailian. Next time, he might not be so lucky.”
Cailian pats my shoulder. “He is an old elf. His manners are long gone. He’s been around long enough to see me and all of my ancestors on the throne.”
“Oooh, what are these beautiful creatures?” Rarity asks, skipping down the slick road where Icebergsa’s are tied to poles. “Looks kind of like a horse.”
She raises her hand to pet its neck and Cailian snags her wrist before she can touch the Icebergsa. “You cannot touch an Icebergsa without its approval. They are very loyal to their masters because the master gives a slither of their magic to them, binding them for life.”
“I have always found Icebergsa’s temperamental. I have yet to find one that is accepting of anyone that isn’t their master. It is best not to risk it, Rarity,” I state, agreeing with Cailian for once.
She stands in front of the Icebergsa, its long white mane nearly touches the ground, and the muscular legs hold up its thick frame. The edges of their hooves are jagged and uneven, frozen like a chunk of ice. Their tail is unique as well, the long strands morph from hair to icicles halfway down. The eyesmimic a blizzard. There is no pupil or iris. The entirety is just a snowstorm blazing in each eye.
“It is said if you can hold its stare for more than a minute without losing your mind and getting lost in the storms they hold, it will accept you.”
“That doesn’t seem too hard.”
“I see that look.” Cailian snaps his fingers. “I know that look. Do not dare,” he warns in a way that has the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “I have seen too many elves and men alike fall to the attempt.”
Rarity grins, lifting her chin as she meets the eyes of an Icebergsa. “I am neither, Cailian. Do not compare their weaknesses to me.”
I rub a hand over my mouth, wondering just how dumb he must feel right now. It’s too late to say anything. Her gaze is in the Icebergsa’s grasp.
Captivated, I step closer, seeing the flecks of snow reflecting from the creature’s eyes against Rarity’s. The area around us is quiet, nothing but the heavy huffs from the Icebergsa and the snow gently falling to the ground. In the distance, music and laughter echo, tempting me to take my firebonds there to see the fun that can be had.
Fun.
I can’t remember the last time I had a genuinely good time. Being a royal comes with too many responsibilities. My duties do not get done just to make time for fun and I know Cailian must experience the same.
“Rarity,” he whispers painfully, waiting for the last few moments to tick by.
He shuffles his weight from his left to the right, placing his hands on his hips before pacing back and forth.
“Treasure.” I snag the back of his neck— something I notice I very much like to do— and tug him against me.
His back fits perfectly in the divots and nooks of my body, his ass curving like a puzzle piece against my pelvis. I gather his hair and tug his head back, a sweet gasp escaping that panicked mouth.
