Sighing, I climb into the enormous bed and collapse against the soft furs. The firelight is flickering pretty patterns onto the canopy, so I roll over onto my side so I can watch the flames directly.
The room has already heated up, and the furs are warm. Lying on top of them naked feels perfectly comfortable. I’m totally not posing for when Rhydian gets here. That would be absurd. But I am wondering how much longer he is going to be. Fey or not, the man has to sleep sometime. And I don’t think he is so embarrassed by the confession Mabon teased out of him that he is going to avoid me all night. Is he? My stomach twists, and my lungs do a stupid stutter. Damn it! My body is so annoying. I’m not a teenager with a crush. I’m a grown man. An adult in a very dangerous situation. I have to keep my wits about me. Another yawn nearly splits my jaw in half. My eyelids flutter. It’s fine. I can snooze while waiting for him. The warmth of the fire dims, and I open my eyes. Rhydian is standing in front of me, silhouetted by the flames. I blink. Did I fall asleep? How long has he been standing there? His face is all shadows, so I can’t tell what he is thinking. Not that I can at the best of times. He is a secretive bastard. “Are you alright?” I ask. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he rumbles. “It’s so late, it is probably officially classed as early morning, and you are only just coming to bed,” I point out. He tilts his head up and I can see his frown in the flickering firelight. “And you had that bad news about Iestyn,” I add. Nevermind awkward revelations of fondness for me. I’m never bringing that up. Ever. I’m not stupid. Something warm and heavy hits me lightly in the chest before settling on the furs beside me. Did this bastard just throw something at me? I snatch the item up and examine it in the dim light. It reminds me of a cucumber, but carved from smooth rock, no, it’s crystal. Rose quartz, I think. It’s pink anyway. Heavy, with some slightly raised wriggly lines along its length. Oh! They are veins! This is a dildo! Oh my! I’m blushing all over, I just know I am. My first instinct is to drop it, but I don’t. Along with the surprise, my body is flooding with a dark and deep arousal. So I don’t drop the dildo, instead I wrap my hand around it and look up at Rhydian with my best seductive look. I can’t see his expression. But I can see him slowly reach up and, ever so slowly, draw the gauzy drapes of the fourposter bed shut. I swallow and my cock throbs in its bag. Damn Rhydian, how does he make closing curtains look so sexy? He is kneeling on the bed now, at my feet. The bed drapes are thin enough that I can still see a hazy outline of the fire, dancing around his imposing shadow. A horned creature from myth in my bed. “Use it,” he says softly. I stare up at him. I lick my lips. I roll onto my back. Why oh why did I ever confess to using toys on myself? “I can’t just shove it in. That won’t feel good,” I explain. He frowns. “I usually play with my cock first,” I try to clarify. Maybe he will take this blasted cockbag off and I’ll get to see my poor cock again. I’ve pretty much forgotten what it looks like. He moves gracefully. Slowly. As if he has all the time in the world. He leans towards me. His long pale hair falls forward, only one simple braid twists around his head, the rest of his glorious hair is free. Firelight flickers through the thin cotton shift he is wearing, showing me a teasing hint of sculpted muscles on a firm chest. I’d give anything to see him naked, I suddenly realise. Wait a minute, where is he going? My heart flutters frantically against my rib cage. I’m dizzy. God knows what my guts are doing. Some strange clenching and twisting thing. Rhydian lowers and lowers. His warm breath dances over my stomach like a soft caress. His lips brush over the silk imprisoning my cock. Is this really happening? Suddenly, hot, wet heat engulfs my cock. My back arches, a cry tears out of my soul. I’m in Rhydian’s mouth. The bastard hasn’t taken off the bag, but I can still feel everything. Suction. Pressure. Toe-curling heat. Brain-numbing wetness. The silk of the bag is wet now, and the added sensation is destroying me. My hips are demanding to lift off the bed. They have the audacity to want to fuck a prince’s face. Oh, my god. My hands scramble for purchase. Anything to hold on to. They land on Rhydian’s horns and squeeze tightly. A low, low rumble pours out of Rhydian. It sounds like a growl. Deep and primal. Not angry. Appreciative. How my mind can interpret a growl, I have no idea. But I know I’m right. He sucks me even deeper into his mouth. I’m hitting the back of his throat now. Soft flesh bumping the head of my swollen cock. My hands twist on his antlers and he growls again. A perfect feedback loop. My skin is alight with pleasure. Ecstasy is flowing in my veins. My mind is amongst the stars. The fire crackles. The furs beneath me are soft. Rhydian’s scent is filling me. Forest and moss. The deep, dark and ancient, hidden places of the world. His antlers are warm and smooth. They seem to vibrate and heat under my touch. It doesn’t feel as if I am in London anymore. I’m far, far away in another world. I’m no longer a call handler, I’m the plaything of a fey prince. Life has changed so very much. I think I like it. Rhydian’s tongue swirls over my slit. I cry out. Pleasure is coiling and building low in my gut. A volcano about to erupt from all the built up pressure. My balls start to draw up. I can taste my impending orgasm on my tongue, but Rhydian pulls off of me. A whine escapes me, and I yank on his antlers in an attempt to pull him back down, but he is far stronger than I am. He dislodges me easily and my hands fall uselessly by my side. His amber eyes sparkle as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He picks up the crystal dildo. An unstoppered bottle of oil appears in his other hand. Did he do that with magic or are my brain cells too frazzled to notice him grabbing lube? He grins at me. A wicked grin full of promise. Malicious. Malevolent. Mischievous. I try to swallow, but I can’t. My muscles have completely forgotten how to coordinate. All they know how to do now is lay here all pliant, waiting for whatever Rhydian wants to do to me. He pours oil over the dildo. It gleams, glistens and drips. The bottle disappears. Rhydian’s hand strokes the dildo, smearing the oil over it. His hand continues to move. Caressing the smooth crystal as if it were a real cock. Up and down. Up and down. A twist over the head, followed by a swift glide back down. A strange noise gurgles out of my throat. My cock is so hard it almost hurts. The wet silk clinging to it is not cooling. He hands me the oiled crystal. I take it. His amber eyes glow with far more than firelight as he watches me lower it to my hole. I spread my legs even wider and tilt my hips up. As if I want to give him a better view. My gaze won’t leave his face. I’m addicted to watching him watch me. I line the oil-slick dildo up to my hole. I’m so very horny, I’m sure this is going to work. I push. Amber eyes flare again. The sensitive skin around my hole protests, but the burn feels good. It makes me moan. I feed the fake cock to my hole, relishing in the stretch, the growing fullness, the feel of Rhydian’s eyes on me. The dildo slides all the way in. I wish it was bigger. I wish it were real. I wish it was him. A hungry, carnal noise rises out of me. My hips buck. Need floods every cell of my body. My hand moves. Rhydian watches as I fuck myself. One, two, three thrusts. The weight of his stare is heavy. It pushes lust, desire, and arousal into me. Four, five, six, and I’m done for. My orgasm blooms into life. Possessing every part of me. My thighs tremble. My cock empties into the bag. My mind soars. Pleasure, euphoria and ecstasy are the only things that exist. They swoop around me. Twist into every fibre of my being, lift me up and carry me far, far away. As I slowly return to reality, I see his eyes are still on me. The dildo is still inside me. I go to remove it, but his slender fingers on my wrist stop me. His other hand moves to my cock. One quick tug and the silk bag is gone. My cock is naked and exposed. Soft and spent against my body. He lowers his head, and I gasp. He sucks my bare, soft, length into his hot mouth. I cry out. My hands fly to his antlers. He hums his appreciation around my cock. The vibrations force a deep, depraved moan from me. He feels so good around me. But I only just came. I whine and buck. He holds me down with one hand against my belly. I whimper and cry. My hands twist on his glorious antlers. He sucks and licks and devours. Suddenly, the dildo slides within me. His other hand has taken the end of it. My head thrashes against the pillows. He swallows my cock while gliding the dildo right over my prostate. It is too much. It is both bliss and torture and everything in between. I scream and suddenly I’m coming. No time to warn Rhydian. No time for anything. My back arches. Every muscle clenches. I scream and scream. And cum and cum and Rhydian drinks it all down. I can’t see, I can’t hear. I can’t breathe. All I can do is spin away into the black. Holy fuck.
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My head is pounding with a terrible headache. The breakfast table is swimming in front of me. I can’t taste my toast. I can’t concentrate.
It’s been three days since my indiscretion, and while I doubt I’ll ever be happy about it, I don’t think I’m so hysterically distraught that I am giving myself a headache. Wriggling around to a new position on my chair doesn’t seem to be helping either. Perhaps it is the breakfast room that is the problem? It is lovely and quiet in here, but it is quite bright. Uncle Will walks in and takes a seat opposite me. Guilt floods through me. How could I have forgotten the frantic phone call I received last night? Colby, Jem’s brother-in-law, called me to say that Jem had been sent by the council to be emptied by someone else. I had told Will, and he had stormed off in a rage, presumably to go fetch Jem. And here I am, moping and feeling sorry for myself. I look up from my toast. “How is Jem?” “Fine,” Will says with a smile. Then he peers closely at me. “How are you?” he asks. I give him a weak smile. “I’m fine, thank you. My social calendar is filling up nicely. I was wondering if you would attend some events with me?” “Of course!” he says brightly as he pours himself a coffee. A faint clinking sound fills the room. Oh, my spoon is rattling against the edge of my cup as I stir my tea. “Perhaps Master should return to his bedchamber,” suggests Jeeves. A shudder wracks my body so hard that my teeth clatter. No. It can’t be. Surely it is too soon? It’s only been three days. But the droning words of my boring old trainer start to replay in my mind. “When a vessel is first tapped, their magic is erratic. It eventually settles down to a predictable rhythm, with seven days being the most common, but until then, one’s new husband must stay close by. It is why honeymoons exist.” Oh, my gods. Is Jeeves correct? Am I ripe? Is this what it feels like? Is my magic brimming? Demanding freedom? Is sex with a mage the only thing that can make me feel better? A slow, careful assessment of my body confirms all of those things. I’m ripe. I’m horny. It is true. My butler is offering to help me. I drop my spoon and flush a bright red. “Umm . . . er . . . Yes, that is a splendid idea. Please excuse me, Uncle Will.” I clamber to my feet, turn sharply on my heels, and shuffle away with Jeeves stalking behind me like a dark shadow. “What do I do?” I babble. As soon as we are in the hallway and out of earshot of my uncle. I have received very basic training on what it means to be a vessel, and the practicalities involved, but right now there is nothing in my mind but blind panic. “May I suggest retiring to your bedchamber as a good first step?” Ah yes. Of course. How blindingly obvious. He already told me this. I am such an idiot. I pick up the pace and flee to my bedchamber. It is dark in here. The curtains have been drawn. Jeeves must have already been in to make preparations. I try to swallow, but my throat is too tight. My awareness of Jeeves is like a thousand tiny pinpricks all along my skin. I’m too hot. I’m too cold. I can’t possibly turn around and look at him. My lungs are faltering. Breathing is so complicated when you think about it. “Do you wish to prepare yourself, or shall I?” The heat of my blush spreads across my cheeks and down my neck. It is burning. At least he isn’t calling me master now. There is security in formality, but there is also coldness. And I don’t think I could cope with that. Not that I am coping with this. “I . . . er . . . I can do it,” I mumble, as I run into my bathroom. I lock the door and try to remember how to breathe. It’s fine. Everything is fine. I’m getting to have sex with my crush. It’s great. It needs to be done and everyone says sex is fun. I’m no longer a virgin. There is no reason to fall apart. Everything is good. No one will ever know. No one will ever know that I let my butler rail me. Not that I imagine Jeeves rails. He is probably very calm and methodical. Oh gods. Oh gods. Oh gods. Deep breaths. Come on now, passing out in the bathroom would be far more humiliating than anything else that is going to happen today. Breathe. Just breathe. My gaze falls onto the bottle of lube on the bathroom shelf, nestled amongst the soap and shampoo. It never used to be there. Jeeves is being efficient again. And the thought of that is sending my stomach into cartwheels. As I turn away from the sight, I come face to face with a pair of soft cream pajamas, neatly laid out on the heated towel rail. My body recoils. My heart sinks. The high quality pajamas symbolize everything that is wrong. If I was about to be emptied by my husband, I’d be wearing a traditional receiving gown. Instead, these pajamas seem to be glaring at me accusingly. They are a stark declaration of my unwed shame. My disgrace. I may be lying and hiding it from the world, but I am still a fallen vessel. Tapped, yet unwed. Nobody would want to have anything to do with me if they knew. I’m going to be tricking them all. But I can’t trick myself. I can never forget what I am. And my butler knows the truth. He knows exactly what I am. Jeeves has given no sign of it, but he has to be deeply disappointed and ashamed of me. Does he look at me and feel disgust? I stagger towards the toilet. I think I’m going to be sick. I heave dryly, but nothing comes up. My head is pounding. I’m seeing flashes of color. I need to get this magic out of me. Shame and regret are going to have to wait. I grit my teeth and reach for the lube. A short while later, I stride into my bedroom with false confidence. Jeeves is standing by my bed, his hands clasped behind his back. His impeccable dark suit makes me feel naked in my pajamas. I cannot meet his eyes. The fake confidence that got me out of the bathroom has burned out, leaving me standing alone and deflated in the middle of the room. “Would Master prefer to use a brace?” Jeeves asks softly. I nod numbly. Jeeves steps forward and places something in my hand. I stare at it. It is a finger length of wood wrapped around and around with strips of soft dark leather. Where did he get a brace from? Did he make it? That thought makes all my insides clench and my toes curl. Cold sweat is trickling down my back. “Perhaps Master would care to bend over the bed?” My eyes slam shut. My fists clench. The brace digs into the palm of my right hand. But Jeeves is right, it is time to get on with this. There is no point in delaying the inevitable. I made this bed, now I have to lie in it. Or in this case, bend over it. A strange noise comes out of my nose. It’s part snort laugh, part whimper. I even sound like an idiot. Somehow my legs move. They are heavier than lead, but they carry me to the edge of my bed. I lift the brace to my mouth and clench it between my teeth. I bend over my bed and wait. The only sound in the entire world is the thumping of my heart. “Do you remember your training?” he asks softly. I nod and clench the sheets. My hole is all but dripping with lube, and I’ve opened myself up as much as I can. I hope that is what he is asking me. If he means something else, I am at a loss. My pajama trousers are slid down, and my ability to think goes with them. I bite down on the brace and catch my pathetic whimper. Goosebumps erupt on my skin. It is not only trepidation that is coursing through my veins. Despite my nerves, I yearn for his touch, his warmth. I want him to hold me, kiss me. But my butler is not my lover. He is only doing this out of necessity. It is going to be cold and functional. Yet still I burn for it. I crave it. I want him. Arousal is thrumming through me. My cock is hard and weeping. I am nervous and ashamed. But oh, so very desperate. I could blame it all on the magic, but that would be yet another lie. My magic is screaming for this, but I want it too. I want my butler. I want Jeeves. Another secret to bear. Jeeves is being wonderful and saving me from my own stupid mess. He is going far above and beyond his duty. He would likely be horrified if he knew how pervertedly pleased part of me is about all of this. The poor man deserves far better than my inappropriate lust. He is not my gigolo. One hand touches my hip., hotter than a brand. It’s burning into me. Consuming me. I want that touch everywhere, but this is all I’m going to get. I feel like a man lost in the desert, catching a single drop of moisture on his tongue. I need more, so much more. Something hot and blunt is pushing at my hole, demanding entry. Oh, my gods. It really is happening. I’m about to be filled, and this time I am going to remember it. Probably for all eternity. For every single life I am reincarnated to, I will dream of this. My body is opening up for him. “That’s it. Good boy. You are doing so well.” The words caress my very soul. My mind short circuits. I bite down on the brace with all my might and only just stop my moan. It would have been a moan of sheer delight. He breaches me, and the very tip of him is inside me. It already feels so good. Oh gosh. This is going to destroy me. He sinks in a little further and my body stretches around him. A yowl escapes me, unhindered by the brace. I wince. A good vessel is a quiet vessel, even I know that. I bite down harder and tighten my grip on the sheets. I will not utter another sound. I’m going to be a good boy. “Well done. Breathe, that’s it. Bear down against me, as if you are trying to push me out.” Pain flares. The stretch has turned into a burn. The brace holds my whimper in. “You can do this.” I can do this. I am a vessel. It is what I was born for. My very purpose is to surrender my magic and my body to a mage. He slides in some more. Panic ignites. I wish I had checked how big he was before I agreed to this plan. I’m going to be impaled. It is too much. It is never going to fit. He pauses and makes soothing noises. I wish he’d touch me. Flip me over and kiss me. “You can take me, Barny.” My heart flutters. My stomach flips and every muscle in my body relaxes. He called me Barny. Jeeves used my name. He continues to slide in, and in, but the progress is easier now. Less pain, more pleasure. Warmth is shooting down my legs, causing them to tremble and my toes to curl. My breaths are coming in short, rapid bursts. Still he gives me more, and more. Gods, how much is there? I swear if he goes any deeper, he is going to hit my ribs. Surely he has to know he is too much of a man for a novice to take? What was he thinking in offering this? And still he eases into me. In and in, and in some more. Never ending. Finally, I feel the press of his groin against my ass cheeks. He is all the way in. I have done it. I have taken him all. I could weep with exuberance and joy and pride. “Well done, Barny.” A helpless groan tries to escape around my brace, but I don’t let it. I’m sweating. I’ve never felt so full, so stretched. So complete. This feels incredible. It is nothing like the dildos I practiced with. Jeeves is so hot and heavy inside me. He is filling me to breaking point. There is no room for anything else, in my body, mind or soul. There is only Jeeves. My lungs are heaving now. I can’t remember how to open my eyes. Dull pain is seeping from my palms and my jaw. I think I’m clenching the sheets and biting down on the brace too hard. Jeeves moves. A gentle roll of his hips that sets me alight with euphoria. Oh my, that feels good. He does it again, and again. Rocking pleasure into me with every thrust until I feel as if I am floating on a sea of it. The friction, the pressure, the feeling of fullness, it is all divine. In my wildest dreams, I never knew it could feel like this. I finally understand why people are obsessed with sex. I think I am going to be now. My new addiction. Thrust, and thrust. I’m soaring now. Pleasure is flooding my mind. Every inch of my skin feels alive. It is overwhelming. I want to weep, but all I can do is take it. I can only lie here as Jeeves drives me further, and further into bliss. A strange heat is growing low and deep within me. It feels tight and heavy. Magic? Orgasm? Both? I do not know. Whatever it is, it is building, and building. It is making me squirm and writhe. Jeeves is keeping his steady pace. The pressure grows, and grows. It is spreading out along my every nerve ending. Consuming every single molecule of my being. I erupt. There is no other word for it. All my pleasure, desire, and joy, pours out of me. My magic joins it. My soul is on fire. I am incandescent. I blaze in glory for long, agonizing minutes. And then I am spent. Now I am empty and hollow. Wheezing alone as I lie here, bent over my bed. Dizziness swirls through me. I’m shaking. The intensity I just experienced has left me shattered. I can’t think, can’t focus. I know only one thing. Jeeves has left. What woke me up? It’s the dark of late night, so late that it is nearly early. Rain is hammering on the slate tiles of the roof and beating against the windowpane, but it was like that when I went to sleep, so I doubt that’s what has woken me.
My sleep-addled mind finally processes that I am alone in the bed. Where are Cai and Kirby? The bed feels cold and empty without them. I throw the covers back and stride to the only other room in the cottage. The soft light from the corner lamp makes me blink. Kirby is hunched over on the floor, rocking back and forth. Cai is kneeling beside him and rubbing his back. “The eggs are coming?” I ask in astonishment. I knew they were due, but somehow, facing the stark reality of them actually being on the way is frying my half-awake brain cells. “Yes," says Cai, without looking at me. He sounds annoyed, but I guess I am stating the obvious. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Cai scowls. “Because you were supposed to rest and take the second shift.” “We are taking shifts?” I say in surprise. Actually, that sounds like a really good idea. It’s just like Cai to think of it. But what is my dragon’s reason for letting me snore away? “Why didn’t you wake me?” I ask Zh. “What Cai said,” she answers irritably. Her mood is understandable. I can sense her concern, anxiety, and excitement. She is about to become a parent and her entire attention is on Ri right now. She doesn’t have time for me and I don’t mind at all. I drop the bond and give her the space she needs. Kirby hisses in pain and picks up the pace of his rocking. That has to suck. Feeling your bonded dragon’s desire and pleasure is one thing, birthing pains are quite another. I’m so glad Zh is not the one laying eggs. “Can we go down to him?” asks Kirby with gritted teeth. “Is that what Ri wants?” says Cai. Kirby stills for a moment. I recognise that gesture as, ‘I’m talking to my dragon.’ It only lasts a few seconds, and then Kirby nods. “He wants us all there.” “All of us?” Cai asks softly. His tone is calm and neutral, but I know him and I can hear his pain and uncertainty, and it breaks my heart. His magic is gone. He is unbonded. He is astonished that we still include him. Je still lets him ride, but not to fight, and the dragons still adore him. Cai is still a Rider. In all but name. And he can’t believe it. Kirby lifts his head and fixes Cai with a look. I can’t see it from here, but I can guess. It’s something tender and caring and even just the thought of it soothes my soul. “All of us,” he repeats softly. A faint flush flashes quickly across Cai’s face and he nods. “Let’s get you dressed then.” Yeah, my underwear and Kirby’s thin pyjamas really aren’t going to cut it for the walk to the old mine. Cai, on the other hand, looks suitably dressed. That bastard is always prepared. I have no idea how he does it. I hurry back into the bedroom and start throwing on layers of clothes while Cai helps Kirby to dress. We work quickly and efficiently and in no time at all, we are ready. We make it to the front door when Kirby doubles over and cries out. Cai rubs his back and flashes me a worried look. “Guess I’m carrying you, Khaleesi,” I say with a grin. Kirby grumbles at the nickname, but he allows me to scoop him up into a bridal carry. The feel of him in my arms is wonderful. He belongs in my embrace. He sighs and rests his head on my shoulder, and that small, trusting gesture speaks volumes about how comfortable he is with me, of how much he trusts me. It sends my heartbeat all over the place and fills me with an intense desire to never, ever do anything to cause him to lose faith in me. It's just a shame that right now I have to carry him out into a storm. But it can't be helped. Time to take a deep breath and get on with it. I step outside and the blast of cold and rain is bracing, but I’ve been a Dragonrider since I was a young teenager and the skies are more fierce than this. It is uncomfortable, but I can deal with it. It's not like I have a choice. Our dragons need us, their eggs are being born. I'm hardly going to let a bit of weather stop me. Cai strides ahead with the torch. I grit my teeth and trudge along the tiny gravelled footpath that leads away from the cottage and up the mountain, towards the human entrance to the old coal mine. It’s a ten-minute walk on a warm summer’s day. Like this, it is going to feel like forever. Kirby wriggles in my arms, angling himself more towards my chest, presumably in an effort to shield himself from the vile weather. His body wracks with another cramp, and I tighten my grip on him and pick up my pace. This can't be pleasant for him at all. And the only thing I can do about it is walk as fast as I can. But the path is treacherous, and Cai's torch does not give off much light. If I go too fast, I might fall. It is frustrating as hell. We slog along in miserable silence for what feels like far too long, but now I can see the entrance to the mine, just up ahead. I barge past Cai and all but run the last few hundred feet. The path is wider here, and I know I can do it safely. Stepping into the dank and dark mine is a huge relief. There is no rain in here, no biting wind. Cai catches up and shines the torch down the tunnel. The darkness seems to grin back at us. But the shadows smell of dragon and we have been here a thousand times. It is our dragons' home and our second one. There is nothing to fear here. “I can make it from here,” says Kirby, so I set him down. True to his word, he sets off at a brisk pace. He is keen to get to Ri. I follow hot on his heels in case I need to carry him again. But we make it to the chamber with no problems. I can just about make out Ri lying on his bed of leaves and moss. Zh had been very proud of the sheets of soft moss she had found for Ri’s nest, and the sight of it makes me smile. Zh and Je have done a grand job in providing for their mate. Kirby runs straight over to his dragon. He climbs up onto the bed and starts rubbing Ri’s flank and making soothing noises. His own shared pain seemingly forgotten. I'm glad for his sake. Cai hands me the torch and gets to work lighting candles. He uses a match for the first one and then uses that to light others. Grief washes through me. Not so long ago, Cai would have been able to light all the candles with one snap of his fingers. Doing it for him would be awful. Talk about rubbing it in his face. So all I can do is stand here holding the torch like some nearly useless lump. It feels horrible. As I watch Cai work, I slowly realise that there are hundreds of candles down here, all shoved into every nook and cranny. “Did you do this?” I ask him. Has he really been sneakily buying candles and stashing them down here in preparation for tonight? He doesn’t answer me, but his blush tells me everything. I grin and decide not to tease him. We all know he is far softer than he pretends to be. At the opposite end of the chamber, Zh and Je are poking their heads in. The entrance is too small for them to fit through, but at least they can see. Cai soon has the place looking like a magical cathedral. It’s beautiful. Almost breathtaking. A fitting place for a miracle to occur. Excitement, pride and awe rushes through me. This night will go down in history. The night that live dragon eggs were born, for the first time in far too long. All thanks to Kirby. I thank the universe every single day for bringing Kirby into our lives. But tonight, he feels like even more of a blessing. Even if he is not the chosen one, he is my chosen one. Cai and Kirby are the best people in the world and I’m so proud that they are mine. Ri’s long and low rumble shatters my thoughts. He moves his tail and now I can see it. The tip of a golden dragon egg. “Oh Zh!” I exclaim in glee, and the wave of love, pride, and joy that I receive in return nearly knocks me off my feet. My dragon is a parent. This is the best night ever. I’m pacing back and forth in my bedroom. Repeating a track from the shadowy corner, to nearly up to Carter.
My mate bond is screeching at me to go to Carter for security and comfort. But experience is telling me to hide because he is the one that is going to hurt me. Every time I get near Carter I whimper as fear overtakes me. I spin away, but as I reach the shadowy corner, I want him. I’m going to be stuck in this loop for ever. Carter is standing calmly in the middle of the room. He is just watching me with a sad look in his eyes. He isn’t trying to grab me and I don’t know if that is awful or wonderful. Brodie softly opens the door and steps inside. He watches me for a few moments. Then he speaks. “What’s wrong, Doolin?” “I’ve been bad and now Carter is going to punish me!” I wail. Carter swears. Vehemently. He knows some really naughty words. “That’s not…” he says. “I’m not going to punish you, Baby.” I don’t believe him. He just wants me to stay still so he can get on with it. Maybe he has a point. It might be better just to get it over with. I stop halfway between the corner and my mate. “Are you going to use the taser?” I ask. Carter’s eyes grow huge and he swears again. All new words. He has quite a vocabulary. “I’d never hurt you. Ever. No matter what you did,” he says. “I might get mad and yell at you, but that is the worst I’ll ever do.” I stare at him suspiciously. Then I turn to Brodie. The healer nods. “Not all humans are like Daddy and his friends,” he says softly. I huff. “You’re not,” I say to Brodie. It doesn’t mean other humans aren’t. Carter winces as if he has been punched. It makes me feel bad. Is he genuinely upset that I believe he is going to hurt me? Does that mean he really isn't going to? He is not lying? “I can sedate him?” offers Brodie to Carter. I back up several steps and scrunch my face up in horror. Adrenaline is making me shake, so I wrap my arms around myself in an effort to stop rattling. “No!” snaps Carter. My heart flutters and I feel like weeping in gratitude. Why is Carter being so nice to me? It makes no sense at all. “Well, there is nothing else I can do, so I will leave you to it. Let me know if you change your mind,” says Brodie. I think what he really means is that I’m Carter’s mate, so I’m Carter’s problem to deal with. And he has a point. I’m not sick, I’m scared of being disciplined. All Brodie can do is patch me up afterwards. It’s not his job to teach me a lesson. Brodie places a hand on Carter’s shoulder and he squeezes it. Then he is gone. I’m alone with Carter again. I stare at my mate in trepidation. A tense silence fills the room. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says. His eyes are imploring. He looks like he means it. He looks as if the very thought of hurting me is horrendous. I want to believe him so much. “Swear it!” He places his right hand over his heart and stands up straight. “I, Carter Henderson, do solemnly swear before the gods that I will never physically hurt my mate.” I stare at him in surprise. I was not expecting so solemn an oath, so freely given. Oaths are important. They are binding. They can’t be taken back or terrible things happen to the oath breaker. I know this to be true. Carter is telling the truth. He means it. He really will not hurt me. My tummy does a strange swooping thing and then I’m flinging myself at him. His strong arms wrap around me and I sob in relief. “I’ve got you, Baby. Everything is alright. I’ve got you.” He kisses the top of my head, and I burst into tears. Great wracking sobs. As if I haven’t cried for a thousand years and suddenly the dam has broken. Letting all my pent up misery free. |
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