AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Barith let out a deep breath through his nose. “I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but magick is the easiest explanation,” he told her.
Magick. As if that explained everything. As if it explained anything.
“Barith,” Sirus growled low, his eyes darting to the house behind her. “We aren’t alone.”
The dragon lifted his head like a dog who’d caught a scent and grunted his understanding. “I sense it too,” he replied, his tone turning serious.
“S-sense what?” Gwen muttered, her heart rate ratcheting up. She shot up out of the wet grass and stumbled closer to Sirus. “Did someone follow us?” Her eyes flicked to the door of the outbuilding they’d come through.
“No,” Sirus replied, stepping directly in front of her, pulling his swords. Cold sweat spread over her skin. “Who else knows of this place?” he asked.
Barith came to stand at his shoulder, facing the house. “No one,” he told him, the warmth in his voice replaced with grave seriousness. “I haven’t been back here in years.” He placed his hand against his sternum, and his huge, fire-laced blade appeared in his hand. He twisted it wide, readying himself.
Gwen instinctively huddled a little closer to Sirus, her eyes darting between the garden and the trees. Everything seemed quiet. Just a peaceful morning. The little bird still sat preening on top of the statue.
Then the back doors of the house flew open with a clatter, breaking the calm quiet like a gunshot.
The little bird took off. Gwen jumped. Barith cursed. Sirus lowered his swords.
The tension in the two men seemed to fade as quickly as it had appeared. Sirus went to sheathe his swords but stopped short. Gwen realized with mortification that she’d been hiding behind him, clutching the back of his coat. She let go instantly, her cheeks flushed with utter embarrassment.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Barith snarled.
“Wh-who?” Gwen squeaked, her attention pulled back to the cause of all the commotion.
“I could ask you the same,” a velvety-rich voice answered from several yards away.
Gwen peeked around Sirus to watch as the owner of the voice glided down the steps of the terrace and stalked over the lawn. She was remarkably tall, with the build of a ballerina. Which was fitting since she moved with the grace of a spring breeze. Her deep caramel skin contrasted with her snowy white waist-length braids. Her vibrant violet eyes were otherworldly, and she had high, rounded cheekbones and thick, full lips most women would kill for. She looked like a queen. The purple silk robe she wore lay open, exposing a matching nightgown trimmed with lace and several layers of gold and gem necklaces. A pair of fluffy pink slippers poked out from beneath her hem.
“Me?” Barith fumed, his cheery, calm demeanor now entirely gone. He took a few hulking strides to meet the woman in the middle of the lawn. “I don’t remember giving you permission to use my house.”
The woman’s captivating eyes were locked on the dragon. Even with her own impressive height, Barith towered over her. “It’s what you get for having me put up all those warding spells for nothing,” she countered haughtily, not at all intimidated by the fact that Barith was giant, clearly angry, and carrying a flaming sword. “You of all creatures know I don’t work for free. Consider my stay as a partial payment. Besides, it wasn’t as if you were using the place. Thank the Goddess I wove that preservation spell over it, or Ember Hall would be nothing more than a rotting, dust-filled heap.”
Barith took a half step forward, so that he now hovered over the mysterious woman, and grumbled a vague threat under his breath. They all knew one another, clearly, but they seemed far from friendly. Gwen lingered close to Sirus, not sure what to do. “Who is she?” she managed to mutter under her breath.
“Hello, Levian,” Sirus greeted the mysterious woman instead of answering Gwen. He put away his swords.
“Bonum mane, Sirus. You’re looking much paler than I recall,” Levian replied, though her eyes never shifted from Barith’s. “That stuffy castle of yours is doing you no favors.”
Gwen’s ears perked. Castle? Sirus had a castle?
“We’re not done talking about you breaking into my house,” Barith spat.
Levian scoffed dramatically and rolled her eyes, finally breaking their tense staring contest. “Oh, put a sock in it, Barith,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can puff yourself up to the size of a mountain”—she motioned one hand up and down the length of him—“but it won’t make a difference. I’ve seen your bare ass covered in speckled dendro rash, remember?”
A flush of pink filled the dragon’s cheeks, and he shrunk like a deflated balloon. “Why’d you have to bring that?—”
“Besides,” she continued, cutting him off, “there’s plenty of food and beds ready for the whole lot of you, assuming you came here for a reason other than to ruin my morning. I’ll take your thanks later.”
Barith glared down at her, his muscles tense, his face scrunched. Gwen couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw little tendrils of smoke leaching out of his nostrils. The air around them almost crackled.
Concerned, Gwen leaned in and whispered to Sirus, “Should we do something?”
“No,” he replied with no hint of worry, though she couldn’t help but pick up a hint of something. Annoyance? She couldn’t tell if it was because of the situation or her whispering questions this close to him.
“He’s right,” Barith bit out. Gwen tensed. He’d heard her? “We’re done here.” With that, he skirted around the mysterious woman in two steps, grumbled the word “brat,” and stalked off toward the house in heavy strides, his sword resting on his shoulder.
“Ox,” Levian countered, cocking a brow but not turning to watch him go. Once the dragon had disappeared up the terrace, the woman let out a haughty huff and turned her attention to Sirus. “Are you in a foul mood as well?”
