Dragon Flight (8 page)

Zorin?
She mentally shot to him, her eyes going wide. She looked to him, but he continued to look away. She mentally sighed as she decided to play his game.
So why is this hard for her?

You’ll see.

Finally he caught her eyes, giving her an enigmatic smile that only made her frustration mount. His eyes even seemed to be laughing at her as the subtle hints of color she knew were there began to dance.

Amalthea stopped short in front of her, causing Isabelle to skid to a halt behind her. Zorin meanwhile stopped with military precision as if he had meant to stop there all along. His gaze turned watchful and wary as Amalthea turned to her.

“Now, for today I want you only to observe this meeting. Everyone will be introduced by Zorin. He is the mediator and is the only being that you will see able to act with force. If you should feel threatened in any way you let him know. You know how to mind speak correct?”

Isabelle gave her a quick nod.

Amalthea cupped her cheeks and gave her a quick pat.

Isabelle had a warm rush of being cared for as her mother had done so many years ago, but it was over all too soon as Amalthea pulled away.

“That is good. Very good. You learn quickly.”

Isabelle wasn’t about to mention that it had taken Zorin almost a week straight and she could only send messages to him and then only just barely. Or the fact that he had to be almost within touching distance for her to be able to pull it off.

For someone without magic, getting to do this at all is damn near impossible. So don’t feel too badly that Caden mastered it inside of a day.

She squeaked in outrage which earned her another exasperated look from Amalthea.

“Both of you….” she shook her head as she looked between Isabelle and Zorin. “I’ve led Feeorin for centuries. Do you have any concept of that?”

Zorin opened his mouth as if to assure her that, yes, he most certainly knew what that felt like since he was only a few centuries younger than her.

But she cut him off with a sharp flick of her wrist. “No, you don’t know, my son. Your philandering hardly counts. And, Isabelle, you’re hardly an adult. And neither of you are prepared for this. How could you be? But I can’t rule anymore. This kingdom needs someone new. I’m too old, too set in my ways. And, Isabelle, you’re human. There’s never been a human ruler here. And, Zorin, you’re half human. You’ve been called an abomination for centuries. And I’m sorry you were born to that. But now I need you both to grow up and be unified as we face this first hurdle together. Can you do that? Both of you working together?”

Isabelle could only stare at her. Amalthea trusted her that much? How had she ever thought that she could just leave Zorin to handle this all on his own? She had no idea that she was actually needed.

“You balance my power, Isabelle,” Zorin told her, catching a hint of her thoughts.

She blushed at the realization.

“Sorry, your worries were loud enough that I couldn’t ignore them.” At least he looked sheepish about it.

“So we need to rule together?” she asked him, trepidation lacing her words.

“Afraid of me, little girl?” he lightly teased her.

She rolled her eyes at him and shoved him playfully away. They both knew she was more afraid of not being a great queen than anything he could ever threaten her with.

“You will still get your freedom. I promised you that. As long as you don’t disgrace me or Feeorin you can have whatever freedom you desire. With protection of course.”

She frowned at him and stepped away. “You never mentioned a constant bodyguard.”

He grinned at her, showing a flash of white teeth. “My magic will protect you better than any human soldier ever could. You will be safe no matter where you choose to live.”

“You seem pretty sure of yourself,” she challenged him. “Will it hold up against anything?”

“No creature in the world will be able to harm you once I bind my magic to yours,” he assured her with a confident nod.

Amalthea, who had been quickly looking over her nails while they spoke, spun toward him. “You can’t!”

Isabelle thought it was anger that first screamed in the queen’s porcelain features. But it was a fear so deep it tore at her.

Zorin growled at her. “I can and will. My magic is mine to do with as I wish.”

“But a binding? Zorin! Be reasonable here,” she pleaded.

Isabelle cleared her throat. “Binding would be what now?”

Amalthea turned accusing eyes on her as if she had any say in whatever it was Zorin had planned without telling his mother. “You will both share his magic.”

Isabelle shrugged it off. “I don’t want it. There, problem solved. Shall we go to the council meeting now?”

Zorin laughed and pulled her against his side in a bout of affection that had become easier and more consistent between them. Isabelle settled into the hard planes of his side, ignoring the tightening of her stomach as she thought of Faolan.

“I will bind my magic to yours.” He turned hard eyes on to his mother. “That is non-negotiable.” His gaze was much softer as he considered Isabelle in his arms as she unknowingly moved closer to him, pressing herself more firmly against him as she sought comfort and reassurance from him. “You’ll share my magic. It’ll keep you safe. But you’ll also be able to defend yourself and those around you.”

“You won’t be compromised at all? What if you’re in danger?” Isabelle asked him.

Amalthea nodded. “It’ll be a disaster. The first riot would kill you. There’s no way you’re doing this. I forbid it.”

Zorin’s face turned fierce and Isabelle gasped as she felt a current pass through him and into her. It was warm and protective and it left her feeling bereft and somehow empty. Isabelle blinked past the feeling of need that slowly began building inside her and looked to Amalthea who suddenly had gone very still as she stared at them.

“Zorin…” she whispered, her long fingers fluttering at her throat as she struggled to speak.

Isabelle felt another wave of current go through her and she braced herself against the emptiness that it left her with. But this one only left her feeling calm and centered. “Wha…” she mumbled as she touched Zorin’s chin, turning him toward her. “What was that?”

He smiled wearily and yawned. “My magic. I gave my mother a demonstration of my abilities since she seems to have forgotten the power I control since it’s been years since I’ve exhibited more than little acts. I have more than enough to split between us and still take care of myself. You got a taste of it because we were touching. I’m not sorry about that. You looked like you needed a little lift.”

She took a deep breath and looked up at him in awe and wonder. “I feel better than I have in months. I feel rested and like everything will be alright now. You did this?” He nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered against his shoulder.

* * * *

He wanted to kiss her. To taste her lips. To hold her against him and feel her warmth against his body. To feel her breathy thanks against more than just the light fabric of his tunic. But she would have pulled away. And maybe even hated him. No, he couldn’t kiss her mouth. But he could press his lips to her forehead. So he did. Amalthea gave him a look as if she knew what he had wanted to do. And she didn’t seem entirely displeased.

She could be good for you.
His mother’s voice drifted into his mind.

He only nodded. He would not go there with his mother or anyone else. Slowly, reluctantly, he released Isabelle. He took a step away from her and moved around his mother so that he could lead them into the garden where the council gathered. Amalthea moved beside Isabelle and linked arms with her.

“You may lead us now, Lord Batal,” Amalthea said formally.

Zorin gave her a stiff nod. He would never bow. Not to her or anyone else. He turned to lead them into the bright sunlight.

Isabelle marveled in passing at the beautifully manicured hedges and the bright flowers artfully planted around the picture perfect statues. It was the picture of opulence and though she enjoyed stepping into that world, Isabelle felt stifled by it as well. She looked to Zorin, her gaze catching his. He was frowning as he looked around at the various statues, but once he caught her watching him, he quickly forced a grim smile. His long fingers brushed at a wrinkle on his tunic, smoothing it as best he could.

“You look fine,” Isabelle whispered.

Zorin’s smile fumbled at being caught, but it was quickly replaced with a broad, playful grin that looked much more natural on his face. “Just fine? I’m not so handsome that I make your heart flutter and your legs go weak?”

Isabelle rolled her eyes and gave him a light shove. She could hear voices up ahead as they neared a large copse of trees. Something dark flashed overhead and Zorin increased his pace. Amalthea and Isabelle struggled to keep up with him.

Isabelle blew out an irritated breath once she caught up with him. She grabbed the back of his shirt, halting him.

“You,” she panted, “walk too fast.”

“Yes,” Amalthea agreed as she glided up to them, not at all looking like she had practically run to catch up to him as Isabelle had. “Now, your spat or whatever that it was is over, right?”

Zorin pressed his lips together in agitation, but still nodded.

Amalthea sighed and motioned him to lead the way. Zorin silently turned and continued up the quickly disappearing path.

What was that about?
Isabelle asked him.

Zorin smiled at the irritation in her voice. He doubted if she knew just how cute it made her to be mad at him.
I thought I saw something.

She humphed behind him and Zorin shot her a boyish grin over his shoulder. Amalthea serenely ignored them both, but neither woman missed the tension in his lithe body.

A light tingle shivered up Isabelle’s arms. She rubbed at her pale skin and frowned at the goosebumps quickly forming.

“Zorin?” she called to him.

He apparently heard the worry in her voice and turned toward her, taking her outstretched arm between his warm palms. He rubbed her arms for a moment before dropping her hand and stepping away.

“It’s their magic,” he said simply. “You can’t filter it and it’s rubbing up against you.”

Isabelle frowned at him. “What can I do about it?”

Zorin quickly frowned and his answer was immediate. “Not much. You aren’t used to magical creatures so it may just take some getting used to for you.”

Amalthea shook her head. “Be the girl’s filter, Zorin.”

He blushed and held out his hand. A little confused, but willing to see, Isabelle put her fingers in his. Zorin took a breath and the tingling sensation started to bleed from her skin like beads of water. As the last of it left her, Isabelle laced her fingers with his and came up to his side.

“You must have known that would work, right?” she asked him.

Zorin nodded.

Isabelle tilted her chin and considered him for a moment. “Then why would you let me continue to have that odd sensation when you stopped it so easily?”

He blushed easily and nodded toward the trees where they knew the council was waiting. “I didn’t think that you would want Faolan to see us holding hands.”

He saw the tears bead on her lashes and watched as she ruefully shook them away before he could get up the courage to wipe them from her cheeks.

“We’re going to be married,” Isabelle reminded him, her voice breaking. “It doesn’t matter what he or anyone else thinks.”

Zorin nodded, kissed her temple and then pulled her along silently behind him.

The path fell away to reveal a small clearing lined with tall trees. In its center was a mismatched group of creatures Isabelle had never expected to see together in one place.

Isabelle was quite happy to see that her uncle was not present among those gathered.

“Don’t stare,” Zorin chided her, the laughter clear in his voice.

Isabelle flashed him a quick smile and squeezed his hand. She looked at all of the council members, all of them settled into the bright grass and staring impatiently at Amalthea. There was a large smooth stone placed away from the others that the council members had gathered around and Zorin helped Amalthea down onto it. He led Isabelle off to the side and wrapped her arm around her waist, pulling her against his side. She curled against him, breathing in the sea air that laced his skin and felt a pair of eyes on her.

That wasn’t that surprising since once Amalthea had introduced her as the future queen of Feeorin everyone had begun watching her. But as she turned around and met the curious gazes of everyone in attendance, she saw the small black dragon watching her.

“Faolan…” she whispered, the grief thick in her voice. Zorin’s hand tightened on her side as he pressed his lips to her hair. She leaned into him, practically crawling into his skin to hold herself to the spot beside him when she would have run to Faolan and launched herself at him.

“Come,” Zorin said quietly, “you need to meet your council members.”

Isabelle nodded numbly as she was pulled along silently beside him. She politely acknowledged everyone and even surprised herself by managing a weak hello to Faolan though it did help that in his dragon form she didn’t have to listen to his excuses. His sad, dark eyes were evidence enough of his regret. And some part of her was glad of his pain. She knew that it may be petty, but she wanted him to feel just a little bit of the grief she was currently enduring. At least he had his son to go home to. Isabelle’s breath caught in her throat.

She quickly spun back to Faolan when Zorin would have pulled her along. His contact on her side was pulled away and Isabelle instantly regretted the loss as the magic of those around her bombarded her until she saw stars and her breath came in sharp gasps of pain. In an instant Zorin was once again at her side, his arm firm around her as she sucked in big gulps of air. He frowned down at her and began tugging her along again, but she stilled him with a look.

“Faolan,” she began as the black dragon watched them both curiously. Isabelle frowned, noticed the proximity of a young man and decided to switch to mind speak.
Sebastian is fine, right? Tell me that you aren’t sad because of something that has happened to him.