Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice Book 2) (3 page)

A
ddie clamped
her eyes shut and bit back a panicked cry as the golden dragon above her angled toward the ground. She preferred to ride on Zayne’s back, secure between his shoulder blades while holding tight to the golden spikes that served as his mane, not being carried off like his next meal. Unfortunately, their abrupt departure had left her travel options limited. It was either allow Zayne’s talons to secure her for the ride or miss their chance to leave altogether. And no way was she going to let that happen, not when she so desperately desired an escape—no matter how short a one it might be—from castle life.

Being a princess was proving to be more difficult than she’d thought.

The dragon landed in one smooth motion on his rear feet and carefully lowered her to the ground. Though she knew he would keep her safe at all costs in the air, Addie always felt an immediate rush of relief when her feet met good old terra firma once again. She stepped aside to allow room for his front feet to settle as well and scanned their new surroundings as she waited for her pulse to slow.

The kingdom of Forath was far less picturesque than Zayne’s endlessly green Edana, with much of it covered in dense forest or stark, unwelcoming stone. Today, however, Zayne had brought them to a place of unexpected beauty. They stood perched on a ledge high upon a cliff whose sheer face was split off to their left by a majestic waterfall. Mist hung in the air around them, casting rainbows of light about the space and providing moisture for the lush clusters of moss and exotic pink and white blossoms that grew from every available nook and cranny. Behind them was the opening to a large cave, high enough from the ground to ensure only those with wings—and their passengers—would gain access. Addie felt for a moment like she was looking out over a tropical paradise in the Caribbean, not a scene from an alternate form of the UK.

The dragon curled his tail protectively around her and lowered his face before hers. She raised a hand to stroke his long, golden nose, her gaze fixed upon the breathtaking view.

“Oh, Zayne, it’s beautiful. But…are we still in Forath?”

The dragon’s head dipped in agreement.

A sigh escaped her. “My father will be furious if Tristan tattles on me, you know.”

Zayne issued a heated snort, and the air around them began to whip and swirl. In the next moment, he stood before her in all his full—and naked—glory. A thrill ran through her as he pulled her close, sliding one hand around her waist and the other up into her hair. He smelled of cloves and sunshine, the scent familiar and soothing.

“I harbor no fear of either King Jarin or his son.” Zayne inhaled deeply, then gave her hair a tug, tipping her face upward. His topaz eyes were aglow with desire. He pressed a kiss to the hollow beneath her ear, and his fiery touch sent shivers of anticipation down her spine.

“You don’t say.”

She grinned at the breathy sound of her voice, at how amazingly lucky she was to have a man like Zayne look at her with such desire. Like she was his whole world, his first thought upon waking and last thought before succumbing to sleep in the night. Whatever had she done to deserve him?

“I needed to see you with my own eyes,” Zayne murmured, his lips whispering along her neck. “To know you were safe.”

“Aye.”

Usually her attempt at his dialect would elicit a chuckle. Today, his grip on her tightened, pulling her closer still. She felt his hardened length through the fabric of her gown, and desire began to consume her in a slow burn.

“It pains me to be away from you, my lady.”

He kissed her, then, gently at first. Tentatively. But as she pulled him closer, unable to help herself from urging him on, gentleness gave way to more passionate, demanding kisses. Addie reveled in the feeling. Drowned in it and pushed all other worries aside.

“I need you, sweet Adelaide. To taste you, to feel you beneath me.”

His lips began a fiery trail down to one breast. He nipped at its peak through her gown’s thin fabric, and Addie sucked in a sharp breath. Her core began to ache from her own needs. Yes, this was what she needed today. To get lost in oblivion with Zayne.

“Twist my arm?”

He drew back, a puzzled look upon his face. “I shall do no such thing.”

“It means yes, Zayne.
Please
.”

In a blink, she was in his arms, being carried toward the mouth of the cave. Addie looked beyond his bare shoulders, checking the skies for sentries. Would Tristan keep his rules-following mouth shut at her request? God, she hoped so.

In a few short steps, the sun was blotted from view, the mouth of the cave swallowing them whole. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness as no fire was lit and Zayne made no immediate attempt to light one. Instead, he traveled deeper into the silent space before lowering her onto what felt akin to a bearskin rug. Only then did he issue a puff of flame to ignite a nearby stone-ringed collection of sticks and kindling.

“Come here often?” she teased as he began the painstaking task of disrobing her.

“I may have sought assistance in finding a suitable location for this afternoon’s respite.”

Seconds ticked by into minutes, and Addie fought not to squirm beneath the heat of his touch. It was times like this that made her miss jeans and T-shirts that much more. After what felt like forever, Zayne freed her from the confines of her gown and carefully drew it up and over her head. Impressive, as his impatience often got the best of him and several gowns had now been left in terrible disrepair. Today, however, he’d kept his talons safely tucked away. A good thing, since she was running out of excuses as to why her dresses had been repeatedly demolished.

While her handmaiden had her doubts, Addie’s father believed his daughter to be pure—something she had no intention of coming clean on. She had no intention of abstaining from sex with Zayne until the wedding either. While his absence left her feeling somewhat lost and alone, his touch brought her back to life. Made her feel empowered, brave. These feelings were foreign to her, yet ones she was beginning to crave when she went too long without them.

Thankfully, once they were married, Zayne had assured her these prolonged dry spells would become a thing of the past. Though if her half sister didn’t hurry up and return, Addie feared her father might try to delay the ceremony until she did. Which would lead to more and more days of Addie being confined to the castle.

Anxiety began to build in her chest anew.

Zayne returned his attention to her as he peeled the last of her undergarments away, his eyes bright with desire, their glow illuminating his handsome face. “Does this setting please you, my lady?”

“So far, yes.”

“So far?”

Guilt riddled her at the hint of disappointment in his voice. With his inner dragon so close to the surface, her sarcasm had been lost on him. So she offered him a demure look, tracing one finger down his smooth muscular chest. “Well, yes. There’s one thing I’m afraid is still missing.”

His right brow arched. “And that is?”

“You.” Her gaze slid to meet his. “Inside me.”

A purr rumbled from deep within her prince as he stretched to cover her body with his, a devilish grin now tugging at his lips. “As you wish, my lady.”

* * *

P
rince Tristan exited
the stables and cast a dark look at Prince Zayne’s accomplice now making his way toward the castle’s inner courtyard. Brom was large as a bear and, if that glint in the warrior’s eyes was any indication, dangerous as one too. That being the case, Tristan opted not to engage in a battle of words with the man, though he assuredly had known of his royal charge’s disallowed intentions. Instead he called to one of the stable hands to ensure the brute made it to his quarters, then fell into step with his own trusted warrior and childhood friend, Quinn Blackstone.

“Shall I notify the king, Your Highness?”

Curses, even Quinn was aware of the royal couple’s disobedience. Had their escape been so easily witnessed, or was Tristan the only fool who believed for a moment that his twin might actually behave as a lady should? He blew out an exasperated sigh.

“No, Quinn. I fear that today, such an action would greatly upset Princess Adelaide.”

The man beside him scowled. “The woman has no regard for your father’s rules.”

It was true. Though his twin claimed to be trying in earnest, she had yet to acclimate to either their culture or the king’s rules. And though it was expected of Tristan to let their father know of troubles that arose, this time he refrained. For she was far more than a disobedient child; he could sense it.

Growing up outside the castle walls, presumably among peasants and left to run wild and free, had instilled within Addie a confidence he himself struggled to portray. But her talk of those years away had been kept to a minimum, her answers vague and topics of conversation quickly changed. Tristan desired to earn his sister’s trust so that she might one day share her secrets with him. After all, it was his duty to learn all he could of their kingdom as he was heir to its throne. That Edana’s high wizard had taken it upon himself to assist in her return and keep her safe when two kingdoms braced for war was not lost on the prince. Neither was his father’s growing insistence that she remained tucked safely away inside the castle walls. The king had never been so protective of Rosalind.

But then, that was before his younger sibling had run off. He missed her so and wished she too had kept fewer secrets from him. “No princess of this castle does, it seems.”

They walked several paces more in silence before his curiosity got the best of him. “Have you received word from her?”

“No.”

“Blackstone, you know you can tell—”

“I have heard nothing from Princess Rosalind since she ran off, sire.”

Quinn’s dark gaze found his, offering Tristan a glimpse into the warrior’s tortured soul. He’d known without asking what toll his father’s announcement of Rosalind’s betrothal to Edana’s lone heir, Prince Zayne, had taken on Blackstone. Adelaide’s miraculous reappearance had broken the engagement, though, and freed his younger sister from her marital responsibilities. But rather than rejoice at the occasion, Rosalind had turned and fled, leaving a confused and ever-anxious Quinn behind.

For the dozenth time in as many days, Tristan sensed the two events—Adelaide’s reappearance and Rosalind’s disappearance—were somehow connected. All the more reason he needed to earn his twin’s trust. Without her help, Rosalind might never return, and Tristan refused to imagine a world without his younger sister in it. He clapped a hand on Quinn’s shoulder and turned his gaze toward the forest to their north.

“We shall find her, my friend. In the meantime, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Q
ueen Helena looked
up from her needlework to spy Berinon step into the room. Their kingdom’s high wizard had frequented Castle Edana often in recent weeks to observe King Robert’s recuperation from a mysterious illness that had rendered him unconscious for three days. The illness—which was no mystery at all to either her or Berinon as they had conspired to invoke it—had unfortunately struck her as well for a single night. But one night of incurable slumber was a small price to pay compared to its rewards: her son had found true love, King Jarin’s long-lost daughter had been returned to their neighboring kingdom of Forath, and Helena…well, Helena still had a hothead of a husband and a furtive love for the childhood sweetheart who had grown to become Edana’s high wizard.

A love that was not meant to be. Nor could it be, not while her own husband lived.

She watched Berinon approach, his emerald gaze dark and jawline tense in the waning afternoon sun. Though, whether from something she might have done this day to upset him or because he too despised the man she’d been unwillingly betrothed to twenty-some years ago, Helena knew not. Still, to see him displeased pained the queen. Berinon had been her first friend, her first love, and, now that the wizard had spared her son from a life bound to a princess for whom he cared not, her personal savior. Yet here she stood, trapped in robes of royalty, unable to offer him anything more than mere words of gratitude.

“How is he?”

“Weak.”

There was no remorse in his answer, no hint of guilt. She sensed that he hated her husband, perhaps even more than she did. An unfair thought, she immediately realized. Robert had not always been the bullheaded man he was today. In their early days together, the king had been concerned for her feelings. Protective, doting. Besides, the betrothal had been their parents’ doing, not his. Any resentment toward the arrangement should have been aimed at them, not her spouse. And yet, Robert had become an easier target for her anger than their deceased parents now that power had become his preferred companion.

“Will he…?”

Berinon looked to the window. “He will live.”

Rather than bring her relief, his words hung in the still air between them, heavy as a death sentence. Helena drew a deep breath, intent on keeping her face smooth and any tears from forming. She was a queen, and queens did not cry. Not within their castles, and certainly not in the presence of visitors. Instead, she set her sewing aside and stood.

“Thank you for attending to my husband, high wizard. Please, allow me to walk you out.”

Berinon frowned but said nothing as he offered her his arm. Together they walked in amicable silence to the castle’s lower level. But rather than moving toward the entryway, he guided her toward the inner courtyard. Servants scattered, allowing the pair what little privacy the castle’s innards had to offer. Not until they drew near enough to her beloved rose garden that its soft fragrance washed over them did Helena believe it safe to speak.

“I sense you have more that needs to be said?”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I am not yet ready to leave your side, my queen.”

His emerald gaze shifted briefly down to hers, its earlier hint of resentment now gone. Her heart stuttered at the sight, fanning the flames of her ire. As did his flirtatious tone.

“Choose your words wisely, wizard. The castle has many ears.”

“Aye, and many eyes as well. I am quite certain the knowledge of our extended walk together has already reached the ears of our king.”

Helena glanced toward Robert’s window casement in time to see his squire step away, a scowl set deep upon the lad’s face. “Your actions may well result in my punishment.”

“I wish a great many persons be punished, my queen. You, however, are not one of them.”

His free hand came to rest upon hers, which yet graced his offered arm, and a warmth seeped into her skin, her bones. Magic, perhaps? Helena didn’t know, nor did she find herself caring either. His were the arms she wished to be held by, not those to which she was bound.

An image drifted to her mind then, one of herself and Berinon standing together in much the same manner. Behind them was a castle under siege; before them, a shimmering portal. She knew not where the portal would lead, only that beyond it she would be safe, free of Robert forever. In her mind’s eye, she seemed nearly giddy with relief. But upon casting one last look to the castle, Helena saw a much younger version of Zayne standing at his chamber’s open casement, arms held wide as he cried for his mother not to abandon him.

Berinon withdrew his hand at her sharp intake of breath, and the images vanished like a nightmare upon waking.

“Displeased by what you saw, my queen?”

“You wish me to face no punishment, yet torture me with spells?”

“It is not spells but the yearnings of your heart which trouble you today,” he said, the glint of triumph in his eyes. “While I possess the Sight and have offered you a glimpse of what may come, alas I cannot see desires left unspoken.”

The queen shifted her gaze ahead and feigned indifference, determined not to let him get the best of her. Berinon had always loved to tease, and black magic was all it had been, nothing more. Soon they drew near the courtyard’s exit. This time, neither steered away.

“My heart is yoked to Robert,” she whispered. “And so shall it remain.”

“Your heart?” The faintest of smirks crossed Berinon’s lips. He took her hand in his and offered her a sweeping bow. “The time to choose alliances is coming, Helena. Give careful thought to whose side you select.”

He pressed his lips to the back of her hand, then vanished before her eyes.