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I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue dance with his cloven one. Only when he gasps do I realize that I forgot the knife in my hand. When I rear back, he has a shallow cut under his ear. Blood trickles from it in a thin line.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I gasp.
“Never mind.” He reaches for me, tries to pull me back into the kiss, but I move off his lap.
“I have to cook,” I tell him. “I’m starving, and if there’s anything I’ve learned since being your prisoner, it’s that if I want to eat well, I must feed myself.”
“So you’re going to postpone slitting my throat until later, then?”
“Obviously. It would be cruel to kill you before you’ve had a chance to taste the delicious stew I’m going to make.”
After washing the knife again, I continue preparing the food, chopping wild onions and adding them in with the sizzling meat.
Kyreagan seems restless now. He rises and begins to pace back and forth, growing steadier in stride with each passing moment.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask.
“What you said before, when you asked how the plague could have traveled between islands—I realized that you were right, and that some creature must have spread it. Blood-beetles are pests who drink from the necks of animals. They are hardy creatures with sturdy wings, able to fly long distances. Large numbers of them would be the ideal solution if someone wanted to spread a plague swiftly.”
“You think someone wiped out most of your prey on purpose?”
“To force us to join the war. Yes. The other day, while everyone else was distracted, I noticed Fortunix flying off alone, and I followed him. I discovered a secret cave where he keeps blood-beetles in glass jars that could only have been crafted and provided to him by humans.”
My mind races, putting together the clues. “So he might have been working with Vohrain to ensure that your clan would be forced to ally with them against Elekstan. But why would he do that? And why would he keep the beetles around if their job is done?”
“Fortunix hates Elekstan. My father once told me that Fortunix had two life-mates when he was young, which is rare among our kind. Both of them were killed back when Elekstan hunted dragons. I suppose Fortunix must have been waiting for the right time to gain his vengeance. As for the remaining blood-beetles—I’m not sure why he kept them. Perhaps he is saving them in case he needs to manipulate our food sources again.”
“Tell me you destroyed them.”
“When I discovered them, I didn’t yet understand what he’d used them for. I only realized that later, after speaking with you.”
“As I recall, you said ‘blood-beetles’ in a terrible tone and then raced off. I thought perhaps you’d gone mad.”
“I went looking for Fortunix. I couldn’t find him, and then I saw the Mordvorren approaching, so I had to postpone confronting him. Nor did I see him during our preparations, or during the mating dance.”
“Where do you think he went?”
Kyreagan shakes his head. “Perhaps he smelled my scent in his secret cave and realized I knew something of his schemes. Such a betrayal warrants either a battle to the death between him and me, or his immediate exile, whichever the clan decides. Perhaps he fled to avoid both.”
“In which case, you won’t see him again. Will you tell the clan what he did?”
“Not until I hear the words from his mouth. I won’t accuse him based on theory and guesswork.”
“Well done. A wise leader waits to be sure.” I smile up at him.
Kyreagan’s gaze softens with a pleased kind of wonder, like he didn’t expect my approval and it meant something to him. My cheeks, already warm from the heat of the dyre-stones, grow hotter beneath his gaze. He’s looking at me like he did by the stream, out there in the forest, when we first kissed.
“Stop looking at me that way.” The words sound more irritable than I intended, and I flush deeper. “Fetch me some water, dragon.”
The prince fills a clay pot with water. At my direction, he pours a little into the stone bowl where I’m making the stew.
“Who formed the clay pots?” I ask.
“My Grimmaw was skilled in that craft,” he replies. “As a hatchling, she spent time among humans and learned some of their ways. She wouldn’t talk about it, though. Perhaps if she had, I would have known how to take better care of you.”
“At least I’m alive.” I give him a wink.
“Would you believe the other dragons came to me to find out how they should care for their women?”
