Authors: Vivienne Savage
Disappointed in his failure to regard her nude state, she took her dragon form and he did the same, giving her an entirely new reason to admire his unmistakable appeal. As a man, Max was certainly attractive, but as a dragon, he was breathtaking.
The ruby plumage of his wings had brightened over the years, and his horns, while only a meter long, gleamed golden. Bold spots of blue color decorated the bend of each wing and reappeared as speckled bits of down near the wing shoulders. He turned to face her, snorting steam from both nostrils.
“Are you ready?”
“Lead on.”
With his tail balanced behind him, Max dove forward, resembling a skier on the slopes. Ēostre hung behind a second to giggle before she scrambled behind him down the mountainside. As she followed, moving her claws quickly over the rocky terrain to keep pace, she couldn’t help but notice how much he seemed to enjoy their playful race. He knew the mountain best, and she didn’t have a hope of beating him to his hidden lair.
Dragons always hid the exterior entrance to their home, but their methods usually varied. While Saul had built a manor above the entrance to Ēostre and Fafnir’s former residence, Ēostre preferred to use magic. A bevy of illusions concealed the entrance to the cave system where she’d slept in Switzerland while mourning. As a final failsafe, anyone approaching her lair became acutely, but seriously ill until they were forced to turn back and leave.
She knew they were close when the ice-covered boulders split open, parting to reveal a craggy crevice. Max wiggled inside and led her down a path that widened after a hundred feet of darkness. Eventually, the rough stone walls gave way to smooth, polished rock. Max’s scales slid against the walls and created tiny sparks.
The volcanic dragon entered ahead of her and exhaled a single breath of fire, which split into individual spheres of trembling flame. Each one floated in the air until it reached one of the sconces located around the huge room. The result was radiant, exposing beauty she’d never thought possible from one of his kind.
“And you claimed you couldn’t use magic,” Ēostre teased gently.
Every dragon’s hoard was different from the next. Some lived in pigsties overflowing with coin, and some took pride in sculpting their lairs into masterpieces. Max was among the latter, a creature who’d shaped his mountain stronghold into art. Black volcanic glass walls rose from stone floors chiseled by his own claws, decorated with jewels glittering from where he’d embedded them in the walls. They shined in every color of the rainbow, and some had been shaped with tender care.
Obsidian casks and polished wooden chests held every manner of coin and gemstone, while smooth pedestals displayed individual treasures. Vases and sculptures shined at her from every point in the cavern.
“Anything I want?”
“Such was our wager.”
She wandered through the neatly laid pathways, pausing to touch and sort through her options. Coins held little value to her and she already had plenty of raw gems in her own horde. The few scrolls Max had collected over the years briefly drew her interest, but she had a copy of almost all of them.
“Where did you find these? The detail is exquisite.” Distrusting her claws to handle some of the finer works of art, Ēostre shrank back to her human body. A hot rush of modesty clothed her with magical adornments of silver silk after she considered his earlier avoidance. The sleek garment pooled around her ankles, so thin it was like she still wore nothing at all. Not that she expected Max to notice.
Did he find her unattractive? Or was it something more, the ghost of her dead mate, Max’s best friend, haunting their relationship? The thought snaked through her mind, but she suppressed it and glanced over her bare shoulder to find her distracted host lumbering away, oblivious to her inner turmoil.
“I did not find them anywhere,” he answered.
“Well, whoever you commissioned has true talent. May I pick from among these?”
“Take your choice,” Max said, as if it pained him. He wandered over to an enchanted pit of bubbling magma and flopped down to rest his chin on both claws. He reminded her of a man resting beside a stoked fireplace.
“What if I want to think on it?” she called to needle him.
Max’s playful growl sent shivers of desire up her spine. Sensing it, his head raised sharply and a pair of molten red eyes fixed on her face. With his nostrils flared, she had no doubt that he smelled her interest.
But he didn’t act on it. Instead, he set his face against his claws again and turned to the pool. He lazily dragged his tail through the magma.
A dozen figurines awaited her inspection, crafted from molded metal and cut crystal. An opal swan rose up in a magnificent pose with wings spread, looking like frozen moonlight. Bronze and gold fused together to depict a majestic eagle with chipped amber for eyes. In fact, most figurines featured a winged creature of some sort, and all were equally stunning.
One, above all the others, captured her attention. A silver dragon with wings carved from diamond poised in flight was set over a large cluster of emeralds. Every exquisite detail had been carefully etched and carved until the metal had the appearance of life. Ēostre practically expected the jeweled art piece to take flight.
“I’ve made my decision,” Ēostre said. “I want this.”
Max turned his great head. “You ask for this?”
“Yes. It’s magnificent,” Ēostre said. She traced her finger over one of the polished wings, fascinated by the uncanny likeness between it and her dragon form. Without a doubt, there could be no argument about it, the figurine was a sculpture of her.
“Did
you
carve these?”
His silence was more telling than any words might have been. Max ducked his head and closed his eyes.
“You have a remarkable talent. Why didn’t you ever tell me you were an artist?”
“It has always been a private pleasure for me. Something to pass the time between long slumbers.” He turned toward a nearby brazier and blew out a breath, extinguishing it. It set off a chain reaction of dimming lights, smothering their flames one by one until only the orange glow from the magma remained.
Ēostre caressed one of the statuette’s opal horns, awestruck by the precision, the detail, and the love that had gone into its craftsmanship. “Must we leave right away? The night is young, after all, and we have no other responsibilities at this hour,” she pointed out.
Max’s eyes glowed in the dimmed light. He hesitated then with a tender touch of his claw, nudged an untamed lock of silver hair from her face. “I’m certain to return to exaggerated complaints if we are away for long, but…” The corner of his mouth raised and he slipped back down to the polished rock on his side. “For once, I don’t care. Shall I relight the lamps?”
“No,” Ēostre said demurely. “It sets the atmosphere and adds a certain comfort to the mood, doesn’t it?” Once the figurine was safe on an adjacent pedestal, she chose Max’s ruby-colored side as a broad cushion to lay against. She crawled over him without invitation and heard his sharp intake of breath. He stilled beneath her, resembling one of his own statues, quiet aside from a subtle purr rumbling from his chest.
It isn’t my imagination,
Ēostre thought with determination.
The way I feel and his affection for me are real.
Although she didn’t dare to act on her desires, for fear he would believe the gift had influenced her intentions, the dragoness stroked her fingers through the dark red mane at the base of his neck. Age had weathered his hide over the centuries, giving it characteristics similar to suede, without the rough, cracking appearance some of the other ancient males acquired. He took care of himself.
“Do you really think this will all work? That the humans will accept us?”
“Kenneth believes a rocky start should be expected, but in the end, going forward and embracing the rest of the world can only benefit all of us.”
Ēostre smiled. Max’s running mate, Ken Palmer, was the definition of staunch and upright, and had been as supportive as some of her friendlier dragon associates. “Kenneth is a good man. I hope the rest of humanity follows his example.”
“As do I. Think of what the humans can learn from magic, from our wisdom, and think of the freedom we could enjoy once we no longer are forced to hide our true selves. Oh to fly again, Ēostre. To fly in the daylight sun and feel its golden kiss against my feathers. I’ve dreamed of such a day for so long,” he confessed.
Ēostre wiggled around until she was nestled firmly against the shoulder of his wing. It made the perfect pillow for her cheek despite airy down feathers tickling her ear. “Mm. That doesn’t surprise me, Sun God,” she murmured. “I flew once with Astrid during an evening storm, but it wasn’t the same. There’s nothing sweeter than a summer storm at midday… than the afternoon sun gleaming over the dew on the wilderness below after the rains have ended. I want to show these things to her, Belenos. I want to show my new grandchild these beautiful things the humans take for granted.”
“As do I. We have spent so long in the shadows, we no longer remember the blessing of being free. What for? For the pleasure of owning a slave?” He snorted in disgust, wisps of smoke curling from his nostrils.
“I once had a slave,” Ēostre admitted. “But I never considered him one. He was a young boy Fafnir brought home, but I believe I mothered him more than anything. Saul hadn’t been born yet, and… I was quite lonely whenever Fafnir left to make war and trouble for knights. And you, my dear friend, hibernated that entire century.”
Maximilian looked abashed. “I didn’t realize Fafnir left you alone so often. So what of the boy, then? You came to love him?”
“I did. Griban became family, and I loved him very much. I suppose he cared for me as well since he refused to leave my side once granted freedom. He always stayed nearby, and continued to do the few tasks I’d always asked of him.”
“And then?”
“He died,” she said sadly. “But it was many years later when he was no longer a boy and had children of his own. But his time as my friend seemed too short. Too brief.”
“What about his children?” Max asked curiously. “Surely you were able to make friends with many of them. Did you remain in touch?”
“Of course I kept up with his progeny. One of them lives on Saul’s property now.”
“Leiv?” Surprise filled his voice. “Fafnir chose bear shifters?”
Ēostre nodded. “Fafnir decided he wanted a strong shifter rather than a fleet deer or timid squirrel. Wolves, he said, were too unpredictable. He didn’t trust creatures who relied on living in packs, he wanted a loner, like us.”
“That sounds like him.”
The memory was a bittersweet one and they both lapsed into silence, lost to their own thoughts. Thinking of her lost mate brought pain, but only a shadow of the despair she’d felt a few years ago. Each day since her reawakening had lessened the heartache.
And each day with Max since made her feel more alive.
“We’re going to win this, Bel,” she murmured as she snuggled in. “And we’ll fly sun-filled skies again. You’ll see.”
“It’s a dream to hold onto.” His voice rumbled beneath her ear.
Only nights had passed since Ēostre first wished to fall asleep in Maximilian’s arms. With her desire made a reality, she turned her face against the softer hide at his throat and dreamed only of him.
Chapter 10
Ēostre and Max overslept. By the time she returned him to the governor’s mansion, Lynette had realized he was missing, alerted the wolves, and a grumpy pack of were-creatures awaited them in the parlor. Despite their irritable words and slyly veiled comments, Ēostre smiled because she’d had one precious night alone with Max.
“As far as anyone knows, Maximilian was here the entire night.”
“And what would we have done if a government emergency arose requiring his immediate attention?” Andrew demanded.
“You would have called my son, who would have in turn had his genie track me as I’ve given her permission to do,” Ēostre countered calmly while smoothing her fingers down her dress. “You know this, Andrew. We discussed the course of action to take in the past.”
Carl shook his head. He was a big, dark-skinned werewolf with chocolate brown eyes. Ēostre had never seen him in his wolf form, unlike Andrew, but she imagined his fur would be dark as pitch and his huge wolf as big as a Buick. “Ian hired us to do more than keep him safe, ma’am, as you are well aware. In the future, we’d appreciate having a direct line to contact Governor Emberthorn.”
“Please,” Max spoke up, raising his hands. “Let’s not turn this into another argument. We’ve been here before. You’re both right, but unfortunately, there’s no easy solution to this. I want to enjoy the time I have left before the door slams shut on my freedom. While in public, you are my security. While alone in our natural states, she will hold that honor. Is this understood?”
Carl grunted. The three men weren’t happy when they left, but Megan flashed them an apologetic smile and mouthed, “Sorry,” to Ēostre in passing. The girl had a more laid-back approach to guarding Maximilian, unlike the male lycan members of the team. Ēostre had to wonder if it was a werewolf trait or if the raven shifters were naturally more relaxed.