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I loved him.
So I pulled his head down and whispered that very thing in the pitch dark, our sweaty bodies aligned and intertwined as one. I was unable to say the words too loud, only in a whisper, afraid they might change this moment in some terrible, irrevocable way. But all I felt was the loving sweep of his mouth over mine—no tongue, no penetration—only lips on lips, brushing a tender caress. Acceptance of my gift, my open heart. As I accepted his.
After a moment of silence and sweet touching, he slid out of me. I heard him moving, though I could see nothing. He blew a bright line of yellow flame, lighting a three-tiered candlestick on the bedside table.
Disinterested in the room, I took in the sight of my magnificent man by candlelight. He lay on his side, wings folded to his back, eyes roving over me. Unaccustomed to being examined in the nude, I wasn’t shy for some reason. Not with him.
One of his hands traveled a light trail over my hip and across my ribs, circled my abdomen, then back up between my breasts, stopping suddenly. He gazed at the mark high on my cheek, his expression darkening to a storm.
“Kol. I’m okay.” His expression remained unchanged. I cupped his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me, the dragon vivid in hard planes. “I’m safe.”
Finally, he blinked, stony expression softening. “Tell me what happened.”
His fingers resumed their petting trail up and down my waist, brushing in soothing sweeps, reminding me that I was now safe in his arms.
He seemed to be forcing himself to slow his breathing, to calm the rage after seeing the mark on my cheek. So I told him in quick, clipped succession how I was taken, chained, and held captive, leaving out how close the monster king came to making me his breeder.
Kol’s fingers rounded my hip and stopped, his gaze finding mine. “Who gave you the mark on the cheek?”
Gor. “He’s dead.”
“Good.” He pulled loose one of my braids, untwining the plait and lifting the gold ribbon to his nose. “And who were you made into a concubine for?”
My pulse sped ahead. “Why would you say that?”
He proceeded to undo the braids hanging by my temple with gentle fingers, pulling the gold ribbons and tossing them away.
“Long ago, dragon kings kept human concubines, but never sired a child with one. Radomis was the first to take a human woman as a wife.” The ring around his iris glowed white within a sea of deep blue. “There are millennium-old paintings in some of our museums depicting the ancient ones, their slave girls dressed in white tunics, gold ribbons braided into their hair.”
“Why gold?” I managed to ask evenly.
“Gold is the element of royalty, a dragon king. It labels them as his property.” His voice dipped low and soft as a whisper. “So, tell me, Moira. This bastard of a king had planned to keep you as his concubine, hadn’t he?”
Pause. I nodded. Now I knew why Kieren’s mood was so dark after his dreamwalking chat with his brother. He’d told Kol all about this monster Morgon who led this dark charade. I decided the best thing was to be honest with him about my experience.
“Concubine sounds rather kind. He was looking for a breeder, not a lover.” I winced at the memory of those monstrous hands on me, his eyes raking me as if I were a precious piece of livestock. “But, Kol, I injected him with poison. Gaius gave me a way to escape, gave us both a way to escape.”
Kol’s eyes slid closed, a tremble shuddering through him. “I’ll be forever grateful to Gaius, for what he risked in saving you.”
There was no need to point out he risked his life. And lost it. There was more to tell about Gaius but not now.
Kol’s sharp features seemed kinder in the candlelight. His hands threaded through my hair, draping the long strands on the mattress. We lay sideways in the bed, never making it to the pillows. His fierce passion had consumed us both.
I stared at the line down his cheek. “Kol.”
“Hmm.”
“Why didn’t you have an Icewing heal this?” I traced a finger there. “Not that I mind it at all. Actually, I kind of like it, but?—”
He stopped my mouth with a soft kiss.
“No need to explain.” He sighed, seeming to remember. “I didn’t want it to be healed. I wanted the reminder of what I’d done. I regretted what I’d done to Kieren, injuring him that way, my own blood.” Regret laced every word. “But I couldn’t take it back. I thought, well, I thought I deserved the scar.”
I leaned up and kissed the center.
“Perhaps it’s time you two let those wounds heal.”
A tender smile from my not-so-icy Morgon man. “Perhaps.”
