It seemed ages later, when she finally resurfaced and the energy ebbed away. Huroth’s bleeding had stopped. His many wounds were closed over with healthy skin, not even scar tissue remaining.
She leaned forward and kissed his brow, rejoicing to see his ice blue eyes open.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, gazing up at her. “You saved my life.”
“I’m glad I was able to.”
“Of course, you know what this means?” he asked, beginning to smile.
“What?”
“Now, you’ve agreed to be my mate.”
“You heard that? I thought you were unconscious.”
“Doesn’t matter. You promised. I’m not letting you out of it.”
“Oh well,” she laughed. “I guess I’ll have to follow through.”
“Soon,” he added, grinning widely.
The other dragons stood in a loose semi-circle, their faces showing relief and reverence both. Even Abeah lacked her usual haughtiness. Her eyes were wide and filled with wonder.
“In all my days, I’ve never seen the like,” Tirza said, tears sliding down her wrinkled cheeks. She came over to Orwenna, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You are most welcome in our clan. We will be honored to have you.”
The other dragons spoke out in agreement. All but Abeah. While she failed to join in, she didn’t raise an objection or even look displeased. She merely stood, still as a statue, her eyes fixed on Huroth. It was impossible to guess what was going on in her mind, but at that moment, Orwenna didn’t care. Huroth was alive. That was a gift beyond all else.
****
Orwenna pulled her fur-lined cloak tighter, grateful for the warmth. Huroth had given it to her, right before they left for Dragon’s Perch. He knew how cold the winds blew, high on the mountains.
All ten dragons were present for Thord’s funeral, even baby Valla, wrapped in a thick wolf’s pelt. Regardless of his final actions, Thord had been a member of the clan, and he deserved a fitting farewell.
Dragon’s Perch was an ancient site, built before memory or history could recall. It sat in a crook of the tallest peak in the Drake’s Teeth Range, its wide steps and towering arches blanketed year round with snow. The stonework looked to be made of the same dark granite as the mountains themselves. It had a timeless quality, as if its origins lay at the very beginnings of the world.
Orwenna could see why it was sacred to the dragons. The place was magnificent, built at the highest point where land kissed sky. She felt breathless and awestruck, gazing over a white-topped sea of mountains, many of their slopes and valleys lost below the clouds.
In drake form, the clan had carried Thord’s body to Dragon’s Perch, along with enough wood for a massive pyre. As they laid his body atop the branches and logs, they began to sing, their voices mingling with the moan of the wind in the rocks.
Each dragon took a turn, ceasing their song and breathing flames over the pyre. Soon the fire was burning robustly, fifteen feet high, and more than thirty wide. Orwenna wondered if they could see it, all the way in the lowlands.
She felt as if she’d stepped into the midst of a legend. Her old life seemed a million miles away, but she didn’t regret it. Not surrounded by such majesty. She might be human, but the clan had accepted her, and she was one of them now. The realization filled her with joy.
To think, her father had tried to join her with that dull lump of a man, Rollin. Ha! She was meant for better things…to be a dragon wife, no less. Who would have thought she could fly so high?
After the pyre burned down, and Thord was nothing more than ash, Huroth changed back to eldrin form. He came to Orwenna and took her hand.
“Are you ready for our mate-bonding?” he asked.
“Now?” She knew he wanted to marry her soon, but she’d expected some lead up. Surely even dragon weddings required planning and preparation.
“This is a perfect time.” He seemed serious. “What better way to balance death, than with an affirmation of life? We’re here at the crown of the world, blessed in Oatha’s sight, with the clan gathered round. How could it be better?”
“Don’t I need to learn some rules, or memorize a thing to say?”
The spontaneity of his suggestion bewildered her. In Rhelaun, marriage was steeped in elaborate ritual.
“It’s simple enough,” Huroth assured her. “Just enter into it with an open heart, and speak the truth.”
“All right. I’m ready.” There wasn’t any cause to wait. She knew what she wanted.
They walked together to the highest arch. Tirza shifted to eldrin form and came to stand in front of them. She looked like a part of Dragon’s Perch itself, with her snowy hair, her white fur cloak, and her eyes dark as stone. The other dragons, still in drake form, made a silent circle around them.
“Huroth and Orwenna, are you here of your own free will?” Tirza asked.
They nodded.
“Huroth. Do you take Orwenna as life-mate, to honor, cherish, and protect, as long as you both walk in this world?”
“I do,” he answered solemnly. “I pledge with all that I am, to bring her shelter and comfort, honesty and humor, delight and passion, for the rest of our days.” His eyes were bright with the clarity of his intention.
Orwenna felt as if she was lifting off the ground, giddy and weightless as the surrounding snowflakes, caught in a gust of wind. She hadn’t known this much happiness was possible.
“Orwenna,” Tirza said. “Do you take Huroth as life-mate, to honor, cherish, and protect, as long as you both walk in this world?”
“I do.” She looked into his splendid face, with its strength, intelligence, and integrity. The words came easily.
“I pledge to be a loving wife, a worthy friend, and a devoted mother to our children. I promise to hold Huroth as precious in my eyes and dear to my heart, for all our days together.”
“Then it is my privilege to bind the two of you as life-mates.” Tirza smiled as she said this, reaching into her cloak to bring forth a long silver cord. She wrapped it three times around their joined hands then spread her arms wide.
“In Oatha’s sight, these two have bonded,” she shouted into the wind. “May their union be filled with beauty and bounty, for the betterment of all. Hurrah!”
The circle of dragons raised a wild, joyful noise. They smacked their tails against the ground and breathed fire, straight up into the sky. Huroth gathered Orwenna in his arms, kissing her deeply. Her whole being responded, opening to the rush of pleasure. This was to be her life now. Hurrah, indeed!
“There’s somewhere I’d like to take you,” Huroth murmured in her ear. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course. I put myself completely in your hands.”
“I like the sound of that.” He grinned.
****
Huroth flew Orwenna to the southeast, landing in a clearing at the mouth of low valley. Here, the afternoon was almost hot. A stream splashed over a rocky bluff, creating a lovely veil-like falls, with an emerald pool at the base.
Moss and ferns grew among the boulders, and wildflowers edged the pool with multi-colored lace. Sunshine sparkled on the clear water, sending light and shadow patterns crisscrossing the sandy bottom. From the nearby woods, birds trilled myriad lilting love songs.
“This is perfect,” Orwenna said, shedding her fur cloak. Even her clothes felt too heavy, now. “I can’t believe we were up in the snow, and here it’s like summer.”
“The mountains hold surprising contrasts,” Huroth said, also dropping his cloak to the ground. “Care for a swim?”
“I don’t know.” The water looked tempting, but it was certain to be chilly.
“Why not? I’m sure I can think of something to warm you up afterwards.” The look he gave her said it all. They were life-mates now. All self-imposed restrictions were lifted.
Excitement fluttered through Orwenna.
“I will, if you will,” she challenged, sitting down to unlace her boots.
He stripped his jacket and shirt off in record time. Orwenna caught her breath. She hadn’t remembered just how fantastic he looked, and this time he wasn’t stopping halfway. His boots came off next, followed by everything else.
“Oh gods,” she whispered, completely losing track of her own undressing. He was a sight to behold. Muscles corded beautifully under his skin, his shoulders broad, hips lean, his limbs long and powerful. To think, this was her husband she was looking at! Orwenna shivered with the thrill of it.
“I’m going to be first in,” he called, running and diving into the deepest part of the pool. He stayed down so long, she began to wonder where he was. Then he surfaced under the spray of the waterfall, tipping his head back and pushing his wet hair out of his face.
“Come on,” he encouraged, swimming toward the center of the pool. “It feels great.” How could any woman, in her right mind, resist getting naked with Huroth? Orwenna hurriedly shrugged off her clothes and headed for the water.
Chapter Seventeen
Huroth watched as Wen approached the pool, unfastening her hair, letting it fall in glossy curtains over her shoulders. She was a vision, fair, lithesome, and marvelously feminine. He could hardly believe his good fortune.
Not so long ago, he’d expected to spend the rest of his years alone. Now he had Wen, and she was everything he could hope for in a mate. Each day they spent together, his love for her grew, and not only for her physical presence or beauty.
She had a rare, wonderful quality about her. It was a combination of her courage, her wit and compassion, and something else, indefinable. She made him happier than he’d ever been. He couldn’t imagine going through life without her.
Wen stepped knee-deep into the pool, and stopped, sucking in her breath.
“It’s freezing!” she said. “You told me it felt great. What happened to the honesty you pledged me at our mate-bonding?”
“It does feel great…once you’re used to it. The sooner you get in, the sooner you get over the shock.”
“The sooner my body goes numb, you mean.”
Her nipples hardened in response to the icy water, and Huroth hardened watching her. He knew this was going to be a delicious afternoon, for the both of them.
Wen plunged in. She bobbed to the surface, shrieking at the cold, then dove again, coming up under the fall, as he had. Water droplets danced over her, glittering like diamonds.
“This is a magical place,” she said, swimming to him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“My pleasure.”
They kissed, mouths famished for the taste of one another, hands roving over slick, supple skin. The water was deep enough, that Huroth’s feet just touched down, as he held Orwenna floating in his arms. She wrapped her legs around his middle, resting snug against his groin.
This elicited a hunger so raw, it stole his breath. He wanted her in the worst way possible, but refused to rush things. He’d waited this long. Surely he had the patience to do this right, giving as much as he received.
He slid his hands under her, supporting her weight as he walked to the shallows and stepped out of the pool. Carefully, he laid her down in the sun-warmed grass and wildflowers. They framed her like a spring goddess.
“I love you, Wen.”
Her face lit up at his words, and she reached out, drawing him to her. He buried his face in her neck, kissing his way down, over her breasts and lower, pleased to hear her gasps of pleasure. Her body responded readily, her hips arcing against him with unmistakable longing.
Wen was a feast, and it was ages since he’d had even a decent meal. It required all his self-discipline to take it slow, making sure she was with him each step of the way.
“Please, Huroth,” she moaned, her hands twining insistently in his hair. “Now!”
He was glad to oblige, raising up and easing into her moist heat. Sensation enveloped him, shattering whatever control he’d been trying to maintain. The animal in him took over, as he thrust deeper inside her.
Wen cried out, matching his fire equally with her own. Together they rode the cresting wave of ecstasy, caught in a rhythm as ancient and primal as the turn of the seasons and the pull of tides.
When release came, it felt as if a star exploded, filling every cell in his body with dazzling light. He’d forgotten how insanely good this was…if it ever had been this good, which he doubted. Everything with Wen was better, richer, more true.
She was a miracle. His miracle. He would praise Oatha, all the days of his life, for having created such an exceptional woman.
****
Orwenna propped herself on an elbow, running her hand lazily over Huroth’s chest. One of the flowers he’d tucked in her hair, fell to his shoulder and then rolled off onto the grass. She picked it up, twirling it between her thumb and forefinger, smiling.
“You look positively smug,” Huroth said. “Like a cat who’s eaten a bowl full of cream.”
“Trust me,” she responded, arching a brow. “Bowls of cream have nothing on what we just did.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
Orwenna leaned in to kiss him, her breast brushing against his side. She loved the way he looked at her, as if she was the most desirable woman in the world. It satisfied some core feminine need, especially since it was genuine. His body offered irrefutable proof of his response to her.
“It looks like we might not be finished,” she observed, trailing fingers across his firm abdominal muscles, to his hip and down. She stroked Huroth playfully, feeling him stiffen under her hand.
“Not if you keep doing that, we aren’t.”
“I could stop, if you really, really want me to.”
He laughed.
“I’m at your mercy, Wen. Do what you will.”
“I promise, you’ll have no regrets.”
Orwenna sat up and moved so she was straddling Huroth, his arousal, hard against her. It was like a spark to hot oil. She’d never felt so alive or so thoroughly carnal. Every nerve in her skin tingled. Her body craved more.
She swiveled her hips slowly, sensually, creating just the right pressure to drive them both crazy. Huroth’s eyes flamed, his hands grasping either side of her waist.
“Almost,” she said, drawing out the exquisite anticipation for another few moments. Then she shifted her position and slid down onto the length of him.