Breathing Fire

“Yes, he speaks to me already. He’s an incredible telepath. I’ve never known one who could communicate so clearly. And he’s very strong, even for a dragon. He told me he can speak to you, too. So….be prepared for that. We conceived him about twelve years ago…i think. I had no idea what was happening. I’d been told draak could only conceive with draak. And, of course, the gestation period was a bit of a shock to me. I was the youngest of my kind when we left our village, so I was never made familiar with the breeding process.”

I handed him the heavy egg, helping him settle it into his arms. He cradled it like the precious burden that it was, wonder in his eyes. He sank to the ground, folding his body gracefully and effortlessly. I couldn’t help myself, I joined him.

He shifted the bronze egg and made room for me in his arms. I didn’t hesitate, curling against him and around our son. I was loathe to waste a moment of the bliss of having the two of them surrounding me, but exhaustion from long days of flying with no sleep, and the toll of shifting were a heavy weight on my body, and I quickly drifted off.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Reflections

 I awoke to an intense feeling of safety and warmth that was both familiar and foreign. But I knew whose arms held my naked body cradled. Who else?

I opened my eyes and was surprised to be looking at..myself? It took me a few confused moments to make sense of it. I was looking at a mirror that lined the entire wall in front of us. Tall, lit sconces lined the large room around us. The candlelight played across my skin teasingly. Dom was wearing a black robe with such a high neck that it almost looked like a soft, floor-length coat. He cradled me naked against his chest. The contrast of his darkness with my golden, glowing body was startling.

My hair had grown much longer than I had realized while I was away, falling against our bodies in soft, golden waves. His own blue-black hair fell against his face as he looked down at me, his eyes glowing intensely at me from our joined reflection. His expression was closing off quickly, but I thought I’d seen something there for just an instant, something that made my chest hurt with a yearning I hadn’t allowed myself to feel since I’d ended it between us in such a destructive manner.

“How long have I been asleep?” I finally asked. My voice was whisper soft. I hadn’t wanted to break the spell we seemed to be under. We had both been staring at our melded figures in the mirror, as though entranced. I loved the sight of us. I loved the thought of him watching me like this, with a tender look on his face, while I slept naked in his arms, loathe to even set me down.

“A few hours. Not nearly long enough for you to already have that look back on your face.”

I saw my face set into familiar neutral lines as I schooled my expression. “What look?”

His face was sad but rueful. “Your running look. As though you’ve rested too long and you’re about to get up and start running again. That look makes me want to tie you to my bed. I would, if I thought it would keep you there. For someone who can fly, you sure love to run. Do you suppose you’ll ever stop?

I smiled at him sadly. “I hope so. But it’s all I know. We’ve always been running. And hiding. And scheming. And lying. But I’m sick to death of it all. It’s no life we’ve lived, for all of these centuries. Leaving behind or destroying the things we love.” I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat, trying not to let my feelings show in my eyes. His contrasting eyes were so intense, cutting into my soul.

“Not today, though. I need to find Lynn. And get her back. I have my work cut out for me. I’ll be running, as usual, but this time I’m running into the fight, and not away from it.”

His mouth hardened. “Yes, I know. The druids can help you. You have but to ask. And no more lies, Jillian. I’m sick unto death of your lies.”

He was silent for a long time after that, and I lay unmoving against him.

Finally, he spoke again. “I’ve lost count of how many women I’ve been with since you left seven years ago.” Ouch. “And it wasn’t even for comfort that I turned to them. Not even for lust. It was all to punish you. To remind myself that we were done for good. And that you were dead to me.”

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. He didn’t let me lick my wounds before he continued. “And, sometimes, when I was really having a bad time of it, it was even a misguided attempt to find you. Some part of me just couldn’t believe that you would let me get away with defiling our love like that. I had some dysfunctional fantasy in my head that you might come back to me, like some avenging angel, to punish me for what I was doing. But it didn’t matter how many times I did it, or with who, every single time it felt like I was breaking faith with you.”

“That may have been what enraged me the most. That it still felt like breaking vows for me, even though you were the one that betrayed us. I felt like a bastard, when you were the one who had moved on, long before I.”

“And even hating you so much, all the while, I was still sick with worry, because I knew that, even with your betrayal, fear is what had made you run. It was my last thought before I slept, for every single night of your absence. There was something that you feared, and I had no way to know if it had caught up to you, or even if you were alive. It killed me, every single day, that instead of staying where I could protect you, you had left me in purgatory, and made yourself more vulnerable. And made me think that you had f**ked my nemesis on your way out the door…”