“What’s that you’ve got?”
“Nothing,” I lie, and hurry back to my room with my prizes.
I clutch Stesha’s shirts and get into bed, vividly remembering his hard, naked body against mine and his hungry lips devouring me. Heat licks up my body. It seems that no matter how many centuries pass, I will never want any man but him.
“I’m so angry with you, Stesha,” I whisper, as I bury my face in the cloth that smells like him and breathe him in as deeply as I’m able. “How dare you still make me feel this way.”
25
Stesha
Three shirts. A cloak. A blanket. All stolen from my apartment these past few weeks, and I know by whom. Fucking hell, Zenevieve. Are you trying to make yourself sick again?
I fume as I pace up and down, wondering what the hell she’s playing at. Are we going to do this all over again? Torment each other with wanting until my rut makes me so ravenous for her that I pull her into my arms and sink my dragines into her nape?
She still craves me. She still takes comfort from my scent. I moan softly as memories of her in my arms flood my mind.
I shove the beautiful memories of Zenevieve aside because I deserve none of them. I have not brought one wild dragon into the flare. Emmeric yet lives, and he could cause her more suffering. I am a poor excuse for an Alpha.
Speaking of a poor excuse for an Alpha, Kane and Auryn attack the flare and are defeated by Lady Isavelle riding her Omega dragon, Esmeral. Kane is no threat, and I could kill him.I want to kill him, but it turns out that he can help Maledin. He’ll bring the southern barrier down that’s shielding Emmeric so we can kill him once and for all, but he’ll only do it if he can have his mate back. No one wants to see the Omega witch return to a man who has abused her, but she agrees to go without a tremble, without a sob. Princess Mirelle and Queen Magritte would have been in floods of tears or even hysterics. Lady Isavelle looks like she wants to murder Kane with her own hands. The Omegas of New Maledin are different and surprising.
Over the coming weeks, I realize that there’s a plot against Zabriel’s mate. The fact that a future queen of Maledin is a witch has upset many, but it turns out that some of those people are part of Zabriel’s inner circle.
I blade swore with Zabriel to protect his mate, which is why I follow Godric on the day that Lady Isavelle rescues all the villagers of western Maledin that Emmeric put into magical suspension. While I am saving his mate’s life, Zabriel is the one to come face to face with his brother, and he comes off worse for it. I’m furious that I wasn’t able to look Emmeric in the eye after all these years and take my chance at running him through with my sword.
“I could have done it,” I mutter bitterly to my dragon as I tend to the flare back at the dragongrounds. Nilak bares her teeth. She wishes she could have ripped him limb from limb.
Zabriel is gravely injured, and I go up to the Flame Temple to see how the king fares. Once I’m assured that he will recover, I leave the temple with Lady Isavelle. Outside in the corridor, I come face to face with Zenevieve for the first time in five hundred years, and my world screams to a halt.
I was not prepared for how bright her hazel eyes are, or how lush her lower lip is when it’s caught in surprise between her teeth. Her skin is fresher than the last time I saw her, and there’s a softness to her cheeks and body. She’s no longer the walkingskeleton I made of her with lavish sickness. I was told she’s been ill, but she looks wonderful, as though her sleep has been dreamless and her appetite excellent. Her sweet scent surrounds her, making my heart pound.
I’m vaguely aware of Lady Isavelle leaving us alone together. Silence stretches between us while Zenevieve searches my face as hungrily as I’m searching hers.
Looking shyly up at me from beneath her lashes, she says, “I like how you’re wearing your hair these days, dragonmaster.”
I’ve been leaving my hair loose of late, even when I’m working. It was loose when I was at home with her. It was loose when we were up on that mountain together. It makes me feel closer to her.
I crave to reach for her, but I make myself lower my eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened. You must hate me.”
She steps closer, trying to meet my gaze. “I did try for a little while. I should not have said you have a heart of ice.”
“It doesn’t matter. I deserve far worse than a few angry words. Emmeric caught you because you were too weak to fly with the dragon army. How he must have made you suffer,” I say bitterly, almost unable to get the words out.
She gives me a sad smile. “Perhaps he did, but I don’t remember anything. Lavish sickness or not, Emmeric would have taken me anyway. He was looking for me that day. I remember that much and then…nothing.” She hesitates, and then says, “Stesha, I can see you blame yourself for what happened to me, but it’s not your fault. I forg—”
I put a finger over her lips. “I do not allow you to forgive me.”
She seizes my hand and holds it tight. “That is not up to you.”
“I have not earned your forgiveness, and so I don’t accept it. I have not slain your enemies. I have not brought you any dragons that you might ride. Because of me, Minta is dead. How am I worthy of your forgiveness? How am I worthy of anything?”
I try to pull my hand from her grasp, but instead she tugs me closer.
“Look at me,” she demands.
I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the ground because I don’t deserve to look upon her face.
“Stesha, look at me. Or are you a coward?”
