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I find Zabriel in a corridor off the Great Hall, dressed in plate armor and pulling on his dragonriding gauntlets. The sight of him sets off sparks in my belly, and I realize how eager I was to go and find him. He gives me a smoldering look, and his gaze locks on my lips, which tingle in response.
I meant to inform him where I was going, with whom, and why, but at the sight of him looking so handsome and impressive, my stomach flutters, and I twist my fingers together, suddenly desperate for his touch, his kisses, his smiles.
“The Temple Crone has requested I dig up some roots for her, but I’ll have to go outside the city walls.”
An indulgent smile spreads over Zabriel’s face. He steps closer and wraps his gauntleted hand around the nape of my neck. “Did you come to ask permission from your Alpha to do something dangerous?”
My lips twitch. He’s just loving this. “My bodyguards need your permission. They’re terrified of you.”
He grins at me, showing his pointed dragines. “As they should be.”
His smile dims, and a moment later he slams his mouth over mine in a hungry kiss. I go up on my toes and wrap my arms around his neck. This man’s kisses are dangerously addictive. When his teeth sink into my lower lip, I moan.
When dragons kiss, they bite.
Zabriel releases me slowly, planting half a dozen more kisses on my lips for good measure. “Enjoy the fresh air,sha’len. I’ll be back soon if you need anything. I’m taking Scourge on patrol.”
He kisses the top of my head, and a dozen fluffy ducklings dance in my chest.
Then he growls, “Tell your bodyguards that my mate comes back before sunset or I’ll hang them by their ankles from the castle walls.”
I promise to pass on his message.
I find my bodyguards in the Great Hall, and they are delighted to have an excuse not to return to their punishment. Shoveling wyvern shit is apparently an appalling job.
“I’m sorry I got you both into so much trouble,” I tell them as we head through the castle together.
Fiala glowers at Dusan. “Don’t worry about it, Lady Isavelle. He got us into trouble all on his own.”
“Did you manage to discover the answers to your questions, Lady Isavelle?” Dusan asks me.
I hesitate and my cheeks turn red. If I asked one of the Temple Mothers or even Zabriel what goes on between an Alpha and Omega when she’s in her heat, they would probably tell me, but I’m too shy to ask the question just yet.
Kisses from Zabriel? Heavenly. Delicious.
More than that from Zabriel? I feel locked up with panic, shame, and desire.
I think he knows that, and he’s being patient with me, which I can’t help but feel grateful about.
Ten minutes later, the three of us walk outside the city gates and into fields and farmland. The air is slightly warmer than it was a few days ago, but spring is still a long way off, and I have no doubt that winter will shroud us in ice crystals again soon.
Fiala points down a cart track toward a stretch of woods. “The open ground by the trees would be an ideal place to start looking for tsetsor flowers, Lady Isavelle.”
“Then we’ll start there,” I tell her with a smile.
While they stand guard a few feet away, gripping their halberds, I kneel on the exposed ground and take a trowel out of my basket. There’s a patch of tsetsor flowers, and I get to work digging each of them up.
A few minutes later, there’s a rapid beating sound overhead, and I look up to see something bright flashing in the sunlight. A turquoise and golden dragon flutters down beside me.
I sit back on my heels and gaze at her in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Esmeral trots over and snuffles around in the dirt and then at my skirts. She butts her head against my hand, begging for me to stroke her scales.
I do, and she trills happily.
There’s a sound high in the sky, and Esmeral and I both look up to see Scourge flying overhead, presumably with Zabriel on his back. The black dragon shoots a plume of fire into the sky, banks hard, his black scales flash red in the firelight, and then he carries on his way.
“Show off,” I murmur with a smile, referring to Zabriel, not Scourge, but continuing to admire them. Esmeral is craning her neck after Scourge and doesn’t return her attention to me until the dragon and his rider have disappeared over the horizon.
