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When I glance down at Isavelle, I’m surprised to find her gazing as longingly at them as I feel. Maybe it won’t be much time until she does.
“Do you think they look good together?” I murmur.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispers. “Are they going to mate soon?”
I shake my head. “She hasn’t begun her heat cycles yet, just as you haven’t. But he’ll wait for her. He’ll wait as long as it takes because she’s worth it.”
Isavelle turns her head and gazes up at me. Not to ask me a question. Not to puzzle out what I’m thinking. She’s simply waiting, and with a jolt, I realize what she’s waiting for.
A kiss.
My hand slides up her throat to capture her chin, and I lower my mouth toward hers, stroking her jaw with my thumb. Reveling in the sensation of my mate relaxed in my arms, her soft body nestled against mine, a dreamy look in her eyes, and her lips parted.
I draw out the moment for a few seconds longer, breathing in her scent and her surrender, and then I press my lips to hers. Isavelle’s mouth is so sweet and yielding against mine, and I sink into her. With an intake of breath, she parts her lips and I sweep my tongue into her mouth. I draw back a few inches and caress her face.
Isavelle slowly licks her lips as if savoring my taste. “Do Maledinni kiss out in the open?”
“The King of Maledin kisses his mate wherever he chooses,” I tell her, kissing her again. This time her mouth opens immediately for my tongue, and I slide it deeper into her mouth. Her body yielding to mine makes me groan. Good Omega. Very good Omega, letting your Alpha take charge of this kiss and giving you the adoration and pleasure you deserve.
“I love the way you kiss, Alpha,” Isavelle whispers, a needy little upward tilt to her inner brows.
A spasm goes through my balls.Alpha.
“I love it when you call me Alpha,” I groan, and kiss her again, messily this time, softly sucking her lips and the tip of her tongue, both our mouths wet. I hope she looks and sounds just like this when she’s begging for me to knot her.
Isavelle reaches up and cups my neck, stroking me softly and gazing at me with dilated pupils. “Alpha, do you…” She stops stroking me and her eyes grow vacant.
“Isavelle?”
No response.
I touch her cheek, but she doesn’t seem to hear me. “Isavelle.”
A moment later she breathes in sharply and refocuses on my face. Then she lowers her chin and looks toward the flare. Esmeral is sleeping peacefully and Scourge is sheltering her with his wings.
“I thought I saw…” Isavelle pulls herself from my arms and takes a few steps forward, searching the dragongrounds. “Is there a coral-colored dragon in the flare? Does her rider have silver hair?”
“Damla and Tish? Yes, they’re here somewhere, and if not, they will be back soon. I saw them leave on patrol a few hours ago.”
“Oh, no,” Isavelle moans, hurrying to the left and then to the right, peering among the dragons. “Damla is the coral dragon? I can’t see Damla anywhere.”
Isavelle is so frantic that there are tears in her eyes. As far as I know, my mate has never encountered Damla or her rider, Tish.
My mate whirls around and hurries back to me, and when I catch her scent, it’s laced with panic. “Something’s happened. Damla and Tish have been attacked, somewhere along the Proxen Road. I think I saw the barrier.”
“Yousawit?”
Isavelle nibbles on her lip, shaking her head. “Don’t ask me how I know. I don’t know how. But Damla and Tish are hurt. I think they’re dying.”
I gaze at my mate, several thoughts at once crowding into my mind. Biddy Hawthorne claimed that my mate saw a vision in her cottage. As a small child, she sensed there was something trapped within the Bodan Mountains and it was calling to her. Scourge found her before she was thrown onto the funeral pyre, and again when she was being taken south on the Proxen Road, and in the city when she was attacked by Brethren. He shouldn’t have been able to do that. Dragons don’t share a connection with anyone except their rider. Dragons can’t call out in their minds to anyone but their rider.
But witches can.
I grasp Isavelle’s shoulders and ask her urgently, “Do you know where Damla and her rider were attacked? Do you think you could find them if I took you there?”
Isavelle glances toward the southwest. “I think I could but…” Her eyes fill with tears again. She turns back to me and she grasps my forearms, her beautiful face filled with despair. “Zabriel, I think they might already be dead.”
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