I turned my gaze on her. There was only so much I would tolerate from her brother. One day he would test a line that couldn’t be redrawn. Then we would find out if his beast could survive without a rider.
Part of me longed to see him sent back to his island once Tallon was dealt with. The Draconis prince burned too hot, too impulsive to rule. Nienna carried the same fire yet she tempered it with cool calculation.
Ronan was devoid of all sense.
“He stays out of my sight until we reach the pass,” I said, then shrugged out of my jacket. Whatever gift lingered from the Dragon’s Kiss spared my skin. The fabric bore the damage instead.
Greaves stepped forward without a word. He hoisted the limp princeling over his shoulder and tossed him into the hall, then kicked the door shut. His gaze flicked over my scorched clothes, mouth set in disapproval.
If there was one man I did not fear, it was Ronan Draconis.
“He’s protective.” Nienna tugged my tunic free from my trousers, fingers firm. “He will listen to me.”
“He’d better.” I caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, smoothing my expression into cool neutrality. “The next time he challenges me, I’ll answer. You may become the only heir left to Draconia.”
She scoffed, a crooked smile touching her mouth. “Gyrak would never allow that.”
“I’ve stood in dragonfire before.”
“And he wouldn’t be alone,” Greaves muttered.
Nienna pivoted on him, glare sharp. “If you attempt to bring down a dragon, darling Greaves, you’re going to have a problem on your hands.”
“We already have to put up with you,” he shot back.
I tugged at my belt free, hiding the smile threatening to break.
Nienna’s eyes narrowed. Her fingers moved to the laces of her dress, tugging them loose with deliberate slowness.
“Ah yes,” she said, voice rich with challenge. “You endure me.”
With a single brow arched high, fabric slid over her shoulders, then pooled at her feet.
Greaves’ gaze snapped to mine and held. He would stay out of spite alone, eyes locked on me to prove he could not be forced from a room. He would not move unless I commanded it.
And as much as I enjoyed their defiance, I had no desire to hold his stare all night.
I jerked my head toward the door.
He snorted, then stepped out, closing it behind him.
“Crab,” Nienna muttered.
“I have choice words for your brother as well.”
Despite my irritation, moments like this lodged deep in my heart. The witty banter. The taunting and teasing masked as etiquette. It felt like family. I had known it only in fragments as a boy and in quieter ways with Greaves. It was a beautiful thing, to see that grow.
And Nienna’s pregnancy would only strengthen that bond.
Danesburg brought us closer to Tallon. And perhaps, if the gods favored us, closer to a lifetime of peace.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Nienna
The Craggs never ceased to amaze me. Massive formations reaching skyward—higher than even the Spire. Their white-capped peaks vanished and reappeared, swallowed by low clouds.
The dragons were curious; their clicks and inquisitive croons echoed through the Pass of Thousands.
