Breathing Fire (Heretic Daughters) (45 page)

“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 fucked my nemesis on your way out the door…”
 

“And now I find out that it was all an elaborate lie.”
 
His mis-matched eyes had turned positively malevolent in the mirror by the end of his confession.
 
The golden one was glowing like a torch.
 
“Sloan told me, when she finally regained consciousness, about your little scheme with Caleb.”

Tears had started running down my cheeks at the beginning of his speech, tears of pain.
 
But they turned to tears of relief at news of Sloan.
 
“Sloan is okay?”
 
My voice was raw, holding back sobs.
 
How I’d hated myself for dragging her into my mess, and thinking it had gotten her killed.
 

He stroked my wet cheek, his expression softening at my tears.
 
“She was in real rough shape when we found her, but she’s fully recovered now.
 
It will take Cam far longer to get over it.”
 
He smiled slightly.
 
“You might want to avoid him for awhile.”

“I usually do.
 
Those two are something, huh?
 
They almost make us look stable.”

A corner of his mouth kicked up.
 
“I wouldn’t say that.
 
But their story goes back just as far.
 
The same year, in fact.
 
1947 was the year for tempestuous lovers to meet, perhaps.”

This was news to me.
 
My brows shot up.
 
“I didn’t know that.
 
I would pay good money for that story.”

His gaze turned speculative.
 
“I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.
 
Some other time.
 
I had something else in mind for the moment.”

He lowered my legs, one at a time, very slowly, to the floor.
 
They felt like jelly.
 
I leaned back heavily against him.
 
He watched me, his lids heavy, while he arranged my uncharacteristically wavy golden locks around my torso, curling them around my breasts just so.
 
“Put your hands on the mirror,” he ordered hoarsely.
 
I did.
 
“Spread your legs further apart.”
 
Another order.
 
I complied.

He stepped away from me, moving to my left and closer to the mirror.
 
I could see him more clearly now in the reflection, but he was out of arm’s reach.
 
His exquisite eyes never left me, his hair falling against his face as he bent forward slightly to unbutton his long, dark robe.
 
I noticed for the first time all of the intricate patterns embroidered into it, in a deep purple thread.
 
It was covered in runes.
 
Powerful ones.
 
Whatever the druids had been up to tonight, it was strong magic.
 
Something that required the most powerful druid I had ever seen to also have to dress himself in power.
 
“That is an intimidating piece of clothing.
 
Am I allowed to ask what it was for?”

He smiled enigmatically.
 
“It’s best if you don’t.
 
Druid business.
 
Some things gain power when you speak of them.”

I thought immediately of that terrifying grove I had witnessed.
 
“The grove,” I guessed.

He gave me a level stare.
 
“There is a binding ritual that the guardian must perform in order for us to maintain…peace.
 
I am the guardian.
 
That is all I can say about it.
 
Please, speak no more of this.
 
As I said, words give it power.”

I nodded slightly.
 
Giving that thing more power was the last thing I wanted.
 
It had been added to the very small list of creatures in the world that scared me shitless.
 
And I had only had one run-in with the thing…

I gasped, my mind going suddenly, perfectly, blank.
 
Dom had finished unbuttoning the robe and let it drop to the floor.
 
He stood gloriously naked now, and I was transfixed.
 
My eyes soaked in the sight of him.
 
He was massive, of course, towering over my own six foot height.
 
And his muscles bulged in a most distracting fashion.
 
But for all that, he was lean and sinewy.
 
There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his entire, perfect frame.
 
He was almost..elegant, for all of his monumental size.
 
That perfect body combined with his aristocratically beautiful face.
 
He was an exquisite work of art.
 
How many hearts had he broken since I’d left?
 
At least one, I knew firsthand.

I bit my lip as I openly ogled him.
 
He was tan from head to toe, and I wanted to lick every tan inch of him.
 
My eyes ran down his chest, past his sculpted abs, to his glorious, jutting erection, and all the way down his long, muscular legs.

“You said you wanted me naked.
 
Well, here I am.”
 
His voice held a playful taunt.
 
I practically panted.
 

“Don’t move an inch,” he told me, sensing I was about to jump him.
 
Dammit.

Without warning, he started to stroke himself.
 
I gasped.
 
I was in for a doozy, if he was in this kind of a mood.
 
He knew just what would drive me mad.
 
I licked my lips.
 
“I want to do that,” I told him.
 
I didn’t even recognize my own voice.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, his lips sensually amused.
 
“Do you?
 
Is that
really
what you want?”

I nodded, then thought about it, and shook my head.
 
He laughed, stroking faster and harder.
 
“Tell me what you do want.
 
Or I may just make you watch me finish myself.”

“I want you to take me against this mirror.
 
I want to watch your eyes while you do it.
 
I want it to be so hard, and so deep, that you wonder if you’re hurting me.
 
But I want you to be so far gone that you don’t stop, even if you are.”

That did the trick.
 
He was behind me, bending over me in a dizzying move.
 
He pulled my head back by the hair, so I was looking up at him.