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He’s quiet for a moment, and then, “Do you ever feel anything strange when you’re with your female?”
“Explain.”
“I thought the mating heat did not begin until the Rib Moon. But I have been experiencing symptoms, like Father described when he told us what to expect. Pleasurable sensations in my body, and certain reactions that are difficult to conceal.” His voice drops so low I can barely hear it over the sound of the rushing air. “Is there something wrong with me? Is this because I was hatched late?”
So I am not the only one experiencing such sensations. Reluctant though I am to confess it, I must be honest with him. He needs reassurance. “If there is something wrong with you, there is something wrong with me as well.”
“Then you’ve felt it too? With the Princess?”
“I wish I did not. Those are sensations I was only supposed to feel for Mordessa during our coupling.”
My brother hums low in his throat, a growl of sympathy. “I had no Promised, so I cannot imagine the grief you are enduring—not only the loss of Grimmaw and Vylar, but Mordessa as well. She was a magnificent creature. I would have been proud to call her my second sister.”
My muscles tighten, my sore heart pumping slow and heavy as I force myself to keep flying, keep beating the air.
“Mordessa was kind and generous,” Varex continues. “She would have wanted you to feel pleasure and find love with someone else.” He hesitates, perhaps remembering what I told him, about not loving Mordessa as she deserved. “On the other hand, plenty of successful matches are formed without love. It is not essential. I have always hoped to feel it, but many of our kind never experience that sort of romantic passion with their life-mate.”
“I am aware.” I want to tell him the rest. The shameful, cruel truth I haven’t spoken to anyone. But we are approaching Ashvelon’s cave, and there is no time.
Varex and I sweep into the cave and fold our wings immediately, for the space is cluttered with large bags.
“The supplies you ordered, my Prince,” says Fortunix with a toothy grin. “I may not be much good for battle any longer, but I can still carry a heavy load.”
“And the enchantress?” I ask.
Ashvelon shifts aside. “She’s here.”
To my shock, Ashvelon has crafted a sort of throne at the edge of his nest and draped it with gold-fringed fabric. The enchantress reclines on the seat, clad in a purple gown that clings to every curve of her body. She’s holding an ornate goblet filled with red liquid, and there’s a dark bottle tucked into the nest beside her.
She lowers her lashes, peering at Varex and me with hooded eyes. “So you’re the two dragon princes.”
“And you are Thelise.”
“Despised daughter of a genocidal sorcerer. That’s me.” She laughs bitterly and drinks from her goblet. “What can I do for you? This big brute said something about transformation?” She waves vaguely at Ashvelon.
“As you know, your father destroyed all the female dragons,” I say.
“And you’re holding me responsible.” She nods, resigned. “I always knew that bastard’s bullshit would come back to bite me in the ass.”
“We are holding you responsible. But rather than ending your life, I require a spell from you. Perform it well, and you shall be set free.”
“God, you really don’t know much about me, do you?” She gulps from the cup again. “Right, so what’s the spell?”
“I need you to turn all of the human women we have captured into female dragons. In this way, we achieve two goals—revenge upon the kingdom of Elekstan, and the survival of our race.”
“No shit.” She gapes at me. “That’s a big spell. A big fucking spell indeed. You didn’t tell me what a big fucking spell it was going to be, sweetheart,” she says reproachfully to Ashvelon. “Naughty dragon. You shall be punished later.”
A submissive shudder runs over Ashvelon’s body. He growls softly, but there’s a strange eagerness in his eyes, an almost worshipful hunger as he gazes upon the enchantress. What sort of madness has seized my clan? If I had known these women would have such an effect, I might not have brought them here. But no matter… soon they will be transformed into dragons, and their unnatural influence will be gone. They will simply be members of the clan, to be trained in our ways and incorporated into our bloodlines.
“Can you perform the spell we need?” I ask the enchantress.
She’s been staring at Ashvelon with a wicked smile playing across her mouth, but when I speak, she drags her attention back to me.
“The spell you need,” she murmurs. “That’s very interesting. Yes, my Princes, I think I can provide the magic you need.”
“You think you can? That’s not good enough.”
“Fine. I swear it. On my father’s bones.”
