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Zabriel touches my cheeks, his eyes softened with sympathy. “It’s nothing to be afraid of. There will be discomfort and strange feelings. Your body will feel a little out of your control for a while, but I’ll protect you throughout.”
“Out of control? You mean there’s more to this than the silly thoughts I’ve been having about you?”
He laughs darkly. “What silly thoughts have you had about me?”
“Um. Nothing.”
He raises a skeptical brow.
I roll my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. “What a big sword he’s got. He seems to know how to use it.”
A devilish smile spreads over his face. “Are you curious about my sword? You only have to ask if you want to find out.”
“You can keep your sword to yourself, thank you.”
Zabriel growls softly, his eyes lighting up. Men can’t do that. It must be a Maledinni thing, or an Alpha thing. I have the urge to bite one of his fingers so he bites me back harder.
I gasp in shock. “Oh, stars, we’re doing what Scourge and Esmeral were doing. Fighting and flirting.”
Zabriel slips a finger into my neckline, dragging me closer to him. Lowering his head to mine, he whispers, “If my sweet little Omega wants to provoke her Alpha into pushing her to the ground and getting his teeth into her neck, that’s more than fine with me. I’ll show you I’m your Alpha any time you need it.”
Heat erupts through my body. There’s a surge of wetness between my thighs, and I have to swallow a whimper. Is that what I’m doing, provoking Zabriel into dominating me?
Zabriel’s eyelids grow heavy as he inhales. “Fuck, your scent. Your false heat is going to happen any day now. Any hour. As soon as it happens, send Fiala or Dusan to come find me, all right?”
His eyes are on my lips, but he glances around us and seems to remember that this courtyard is full of his men. “I want to kiss you, but there are Alphas here, and they don’t get to see what my Omega looks like with my teeth in her bottom lip. Let me help you with your aching neck.”
Zabriel pulls me into his arms and presses my face into the crook of his arm. He slides his hand into my hair at the nape of my neck and grips it in his fist. The slow, strong pull on my hair feels so intense and delicious that I moan. The aching subsides. The relief is intense.
“Shh…” Zabriel murmurs softly, his lips against my temple. “Not so loud that anyone but me can hear you. Good girl.”
My arms clench his muscular waist. I nearly moan louder at thegood girl.
Slowly, Zabriel lets me go and steps back, smoothing my hair from my face and kissing my brow. “Anything you need, come find me. No matter how crazy it seems to you.” To Fiala and Dusan, he calls, “Take my mate to her room to rest, or to the Flame Temple and ask one of the mothers to tend to her and keep a closer eye than usual on her.”
“Yes,Ma’len.”
“Of course,Ma’len.”
Zabriel gives me a last, lingering look, and then turns and goes back to his men.
I miss him like a physical ache.
I’m barely aware of my surroundings as Fiala and Dusan lead me through the castle, but I realize where I am when we pass the corridor leading to my room. “Leave me here. I’ll be fine, thank you.”
Fiala and Dusan insist on seeing me to my door, and I enter and close it behind me. Is my designation truly emerging now, and so soon? I certainly feel different today. I’m snappier, hungrier, my breasts are more tender than usual, and there’s an ache between my legs. An ache that begs, touch me, don’t touch me, hold me, leave me alone. I feel like I’m being pulled in so many different directions. This feels like the dragon version of getting your moon cycle. The cramps are probably going to be vicious when they arrive. Everything to do with dragons has teeth.
I go to the trunk to find something more comfortable to wear, and I hear a soft clinking at the bottom. Drawing out the object, I see the bottle of oil that the Temple Crone gave me that will enhance Zabriel’s scent, and the one from Biddy Hawthorne that will conceal my own.
Use this if you ever wish to hide from him.
That gives me an idea. I think I will go to the Flame Temple after all.
The warmth and peace of the Flame Temple soothe me as I stand before the ceremonial fire. I notice something new today, a table spread with long strands of dried plant material.
One of the Temple Maidens sees me looking at it and explains, “This is fire grass. People come and knot the grass into shapes to be burned slowly in the Temple Flame in remembrance of someone they’ve lost.”
When I glance into the crucible, I see that there are hundreds of knots inside, all different, and all enduring in the flames far longer than grass should.
