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Dharman stood plastered to her back, but
she felt the Shadowed Blood’s trademark cold touch against her neck and cheek.
Tears trickled down her cheeks and she didn’t care that her greatest enemies on
her Council saw her weakness. Before tonight’s Dream, Gregar hadn’t come to her
since she’d torn him apart as the White Dragon.

:Think
you I’d ever leave your back unprotected? You may certainly tear me apart as
often as you desire:
Gregar laughed, wicked seduction and
cold Shadow of Death.
:I never left you
entirely,
na’lanna
; I merely watched
in silence. If you had Called, I would have come without delay.:

Tears flowed harder, then, because if
Gregar had always been here, then…

:Aye,
my heart.:
Rhaekhar’s phantom touch gripped her chin firmly
and released her.
:Did you doubt my
solemn oath that I would never leave you? I merely waited for your grieving
heart to heal. Now clip this Black Dragon’s wings so your Blood may close the
trap when he arrives.:

The coiled serpent in her mind hissed
and coiled tighter, wriggling deeper into the darkest corners of her awareness.

He’s
afraid.

The thought dawned like a perfect
sunrise after a violent stormy night.

All along, she’d viewed the Black
Dragon’s bond as a weakness, a foothold that Shadow had gained on her heart and
soul. In fact, it provided a very unique tie to this man who hunted her afar
from desert sands. Even though he was trying very hard to hide, she could still
feel him. She felt his emotions, even though he was shielding and trying to
disappear.

She smiled and Father Josef’s prayers
stumbled to a halt. “Are you ready?”

“Whenever you are, Your Majesty.”

Lifting her chin, she stepped onto the
tiled mosaic of roses and lions inlaid in the floor. A massive gong thudded in
her head, and the ground rumbled uneasily, drawing her gaze to the intricate
patterns. Perhaps because of her recent Dreams, the wreathing rose vines
reminded her of a serpent. One curled on either side of the lions, a long
sinuous tail curled around the lion’s rear paw. She bent down, studying it
closer. The lion wore something on its paw. A ring.

She shivered and pushed herself upright.
Was it a warning…or a promise?

Her Blood circled the edge of the Great
Seal with Dharman before her.

“Should they join me on the Seal now or
later?”

“They’re yours,” Father Josef replied.
“If you want them to begin on the Seal with you, Our Blessed Lady accepts them
gladly.”

She nodded and stretched out her hands.
Dharman and Sal each took a hand and they all nine stepped onto the mosaic.
Pressure built in her ears, as though she sank beneath mile after mile of
water. Time slowed, or perhaps her mind simply ran very fast. Staring into
Dharman’s eyes, she let him see her intent through their bond. Immediately, his
hand flashed to the others and they knelt before her, closing tighter so they
formed a ring of shoulders about her.

She raised the ivory
rahke.
His nostrils flared, his lips
opened slightly, and his tongue flicked across his bottom lip. She felt the
surge of hunger in his bond, both to taste her blood and to open up a vein so
she could drink all she could hold from him.

As much blood as this would likely
require, she might pass out before she was done.
:Don’t let me fall.:

:Never
.:

She took a deep breath, drew the
rahke
across her left palm, and
immediately lifted the wound to Dharman’s mouth.
:Don’t let any of my blood fall on the tile until I’m ready.:

Heavy-lidded, he locked his mouth on her
palm. They both shuddered. He gulped eagerly, his bond flaring with wildfire.
His lips were so soft, his tongue gliding firmly back and forth over the wound.
She moaned. The mark on her left breast burned as though he’d dumped a whole
vial of dragon oil on her.

:Do
I need to keep mine off the Seal?:

:No,:
she answered.
:Be as messy as you want.
There’s more than one reason that I wore white.:

She felt his smile against her palm.
Wrapping his palm around the bloody
rahke
in her hand, he drew it deeply into his flesh. His scent thickened, molten
golden syrup, and his blood tasted nearly as sweet. Spilling hot against her
chin and neck, blood poured too fast for her to catch all of it in her mouth.

:Enough,:
She gave him a final caress with her lips and tongue.
:I must be able to hold all nine of you.:

He drew his hand down her neck and over
his mark. His mark burned brighter, a fresh brand in her flesh. Knees shaking,
she drew her fingers down his cheek and turned to Sal. Flashing that dimple at
her, he bent over her hand and drew his palm across her blade. Cinnamon and
gingerbread, his hair soft and glossy like the blood dripping from his hand, he
burned in her mind as brightly as her First Blood. He, too, touched his mark
and her heart pounded so hard she swayed.

Orgasm swelled with her but didn’t burst
free. Her body coiled tighter, just as the black snake curled in Shadow, trying
to hide from the two blazing bonds.

Dharman wrapped his arms around her,
steadying her wobbling knees and she turned to Jorah, her golden Blood. With
his blood pouring into her and his palm against her mouth, she realized he
smelled crisp and clean like fresh sheets hung out in the summer sun. Lew, her
long, tall Blood, smelled like leather, a well-worn comfortable glove wrapped
around her. By the time the last Blood pressed his hand to her mouth, she
couldn’t see with her physical eyes any longer. Her body ached head to toe,
muscles wound so tightly with need even her teeth hurt.

Blazing red bonds roped through her
mind, so bright and hot she felt seared. The nine-spoked wheel spun faster, a
dizzying blur, and she was at the center, the axle, with the Silver Lake
waiting to rush out across the land. All of the Blood held her, supporting her
upright with their shoulders.

Blindly, she reached out with her left
hand and Dharman caught her fingers, tilting her palm up to his mouth. He knew
without asking that she needed more blood for the final blow. His teeth dug
into her palm, tearing the initial wound deeper.

A column of water exploded upward from
the Great Seal, throwing her helplessly like a leaf in a hurricane. The Blood
tightened their grip on her, Dharman calm at her center. Her blood dripped onto
the Great Seal and she detonated. Cool, pure waters spilled from the holy lake
within her, stained red by the fiery circle of Blood.

The black snake rose in her mind,
hissing and spitting like a furious cobra, but it couldn’t touch her. It
couldn’t hide. It certainly couldn’t flee. Ignoring the flash of silver fangs,
she grasped the black bond and squeezed, just as she’d threatened to castrate
him.

Gathering her will, she sent the Silver
Lake’s wave crashing down that bond toward
him
.

“Come to Shanhasson, Black Dragon.” Her
voice sounded strange, echoing and dancing, a melodious trill of bells and
moonlight. From the shock splintering through the black bond, she knew he heard
her words. “If any Keldari harms my people, whether Green Lander or Sha’Kae
al’Dan, he will drop dead immediately.”

She shoved her power harder, her hands
twisting and clawing. Water sprouted sweeping wings, talons rending the waves
as it slammed into the Keldari encampment. The man who walked as a Black Dragon
in her Dreams thrashed on the sands, pinned at the bottom of the ocean by her
power.

“Come to me if you dare. Bring your
tals
. Kneel before me, submit your
blade, and I may allow you to live.”

A gasping wheeze of laughter slithered
through the black bond. He lay on the sands, choking on her water, but she
couldn’t kill him.
:I may be falling to
my death, brightheart, but all I see is you. Go ahead and say it. Say you love
me. Say you want me. I’ll speed on these black wings so we may fall together.:

“I’ll never…” She didn’t love him. She
didn’t even know his name. But she couldn’t complete the sentence.
I’ll never love you.

The Lady’s crystal waters refused to
allow her to lie.

Dreams, that’s all she knew. Dreams of a
Black Dragon whose silver eyes haunted her. Even now with her belly full of
na’lanna
blood and her young warriors
holding her, she still hungered for sandalwood.

Terror clawed her spine, and a dread
chill of death closed like a fist about her heart. Dizzy and sick, she tumbled
from the sky, spiraling, white feathers raining down on the sands.

:Shannari!:
He screamed through his bond, stretching out both hands toward her. Cloaked in
Shadow he may be, but his first instinct was to catch her. :
My heart beats for you!:

Something slammed into her, breaking the
vision of tumbling toward the ground, but her heart refused to beat. She
couldn’t breathe. A massive weight sat on her chest, silver eyes gleaming,
sweeping black leather fluttering in the sky, darker than the night. Razor
teeth flashed and the dragon buried his snout in her chest, cracking open her
ribs, exposing her heart swollen and bruised.

:
I hear your Call, Shannari dal’Dainari, my White Dragon, She Who Hung the Moon.
I’m Given to you.:

* * *

DROWNING IN THE DESERTS OF Keldar should
have been impossible. Mykal coughed and swallowed repeatedly, refusing to let
the cool heavenly water escape his lips. It was
hers
, and he’d never in his life tasted anything so pure.

At least during this life in Keldar.

This water had never been blasted by
Agni’s fury nor fouled by Yama’s taint. The only thing that had ever touched
this water was soft moonlight and roses, and he wanted to savor every single
drop, even if it killed him.

It tasted so good that he couldn’t even
find the urge to rail at himself for making such a mistake.

My
heart is no longer my own.

He’d made her a gift of his blackened
organ, sins and all. If she told him to drop dead at her feet, he could do
nothing to prevent it. Yet he still couldn’t feel any concern.

Her image that had filled his mind as
her water pummeled him into the sands would never fade. Dressed in the simple
white cotton gown from their Dream, she bared teeth at him in magnificent fury,
blood smeared on her face, neck, and chest, dripping from the nine Red warriors
kneeling at her feet. The vengeful White Dragon had very nearly succeeded,
until he’d thrown the truth at her.

Truth was one of his favorite weapons,
yet as a double-edged sword, it often cut him just as deeply.

“What have you done,
baka
?” Gana kicked sand in his face and
spat on him. “She knows exactly where we are. Wells, I can still feel her curse
shimmering on my skin!”

Mykal swirled the last swallow of water
on his tongue, savoring her curse, as the other
tal
called it. “She already knew we were coming,
fool.
She
invited
us. We’ve lost no advantage.”

“Your advantage,” Gana said the words
slowly through gritted teeth, “runs for the dunes to bury their heads in the
sand before she tears us all apart.”

Pushing upright, Mykal smirked as tents
collapsed, the tribes dispersing as quickly as they’d arrived. Many of his
kinsmen lay sprawled on the sands, eyes wide open and staring up at the slim
crescent, water spilling from gaping mouths to form dark puddles beneath their
corpses. Greedily, the starved earth lapped up her offering.

“Impressive,” he whispered, shaking his
head with a wry smile. “I didn’t expect her to kill so many before we even
started this Dance.”

“And the rest flee! We had an army she
couldn’t possibly defeat, and now only a handful will be stupid enough to risk
setting a single foot on her precious Green Lands.”

Ignoring him, Mykal felt his heart
stutter oddly and stumble to a halt. Reflexively, he touched his chest, waiting
long agonizing moments. Pain banded his chest, his breath wheezing in his
throat. The Shadow of Death enclosed him in deadly wings.

He’d Given his heart to her, so when she
died, he would too. If her heart ceased to beat…

He reached down the bond to fly toward
her, although she remained miles away in Shanhasson. She lay crumpled on the
Great Seal, her hair and gown dripping wet. Her young Red clutched her to his
chest, smoothing her hair from her face as he whispered urgently.

The connection was so strong that Mykal
could hear the boy’s words.

“Please,
na’lanna
, take a breath. Just one.”

Mykal staggered and fell to one knee,
bracing himself on his left hand to keep from tumbling face first into the
sand.
:Iyeh, brightheart, just one
breath. Will you let me take this Dance so easily?:

Hovering over her, so close, he could
almost touch her. He stretched harder, his right hand reaching through time and
space to stroke her cheek, finger one of those beautiful marks on her body, and
dream about where his might lay beneath her creamy flesh, just waiting for his
teeth to bring it out.