Celenore Wilderness

Talon soared overhead, picking out Claire's form beside Jeanine's in the waining light. His chest heaved with a pleased rumble as the threads that knitted them together loosened. It was always difficult, putting distance between them. He'd gotten more and more used to it, but that did not mean he liked it. In truth, he was a little jealous of Tourmaline. It was selfish. Claire was aware of how he felt; she saw it in his mind when they flew together in the evenings. But she never commented on it, never faulted him for it.

"I missed you." Claire's voice brushed against his mind, reaching up to him.

"And I, you," came his hearty reply.

His wings pumped a little harder at her declaration, then tucked tightly to his body. Around him, his Shields did the same. They landed. He hit the ground on two feet. Most of them did. Everyone except Bedelth, who carried Saffra.

Saffra! Now that was something. Never in a millennia would he have seen that coming. It had been a joke, when Koldis confronted him, told him about his mate bond with Taylynn, and they'd joked about who might be next. But it had been exactly that—a joke. Now he was starting to wonder how much fate was involved in all of this. There might have been reservations before, about modifying the charter, doing away with the archaic rules that governed his Shields, that required them to lead a solitary life, making their king the highest priority. Bah. He didn't need to be the center of their worlds. It was enough knowing they were committed, knowing they were brothers. He could take care of himself.

Two Shields with living mates. It was a sign. It had to be. Things were changing. Claire was proof of that. At this rate, Jovari would be next. He almost snorted at the thought. Jovari was in a different bed every time he checked in with the male. Seeing him leashed...now that would be something.

Bedelth had been tight-lipped, of course. All frowns and scowls as he grappled with reality. He wouldn't make Bedelth discuss the development, wouldn't force him to. Still, he hoped his Shield would confide in him. Some kings might demand it, might expect it. He was not that king.

Around him, Claire's Spriten delegation greeted them. They offered him deep bows of respect, and utterances of "Ayas Drollaya." Your Majesty. By now, they knew a mate bond existed—

There came a blur of moment. He whirled just in time. A form flew at him, laughing. He gathered Claire into his arms, lifting her from the ground, spinning her in a circle, ignoring the wide smiles that split across the mouths around them, from both Shield and Sprite alike. They'd been parted the better part of a day. Yet, it was as if they hadn't seen each other in weeks.

He exhaled, letting his tension flee.

Her body felt right in his arms; this was exactly where she belonged. He tightened his hold, molding her against him, breathing her in. He dragged a hand down the back of her head, pressing her face into the crook of his shoulder. She wore her hair braided back in something she called a French Braid, or some sort. A name from her world—her old world. This was her world now. She'd chosen him, his scars, his faults, his kingdom, his responsibility, forsaking her family, her past, everything.

All for him.

Most days, he still could not believe it. Some days, when his crown was especially heavy, a dark voice whispered that she'd eventually change her mind. That she'd come to him and admit it was too much. Admit that ruling wasn't what she'd expected—was more than she could handle. But...when had she ever shied away from anything?

Even still...he was terrified of the possibility, of losing her. And so, he tried to make this as easy as possible. A gradual transition into the role, exactly the opposite of what had happened in Esterpine, which infuriated him to the core. Those damned Sprites never should have thrust a crown upon her.

Her nose nuzzled against his neck, cold against his hot skin, pushing his dark thoughts away. Her lips brushed his pulse, making his breath hitch. When he set her on her feet, he dipped his head and kissed her, letting his mouth linger over hers, letting his tongue dart out for a taste, caring little for watchful eyes. They were surrounded by their inner circle. There was nothing to hide from these people.

Koldis's smug chuckle had him breaking away, but not before he brushed his nose along hers.

"Shall we walk?" Claire asked.

He hesitated, eying her. "You would rather walk than fly?"

"You've been flying all day, Talon."

"That hasn't stopped us before." The corner of his mouth twitched. He knew how much she adored flying. With him, especially. Gods, he felt exactly the same.

They were four days in on their journey, with nearly that many left to go before reaching the capital. He didn't mind spending extra time in the sky, as long as it was with her, but he refused to admit that it made him fatigued, that a day of intense flying, paired with an hour or two of evening flight, was catching up to him. He'd never say it, but she saw it plainly enough when their minds were melded.

"Let's walk tonight," she decided, taking his hand in hers, weaving their fingers together, pulling. He couldn't take his eyes off her, which was probably for the best, since he could still feel plenty of eyes on them.

They thought him a lovesick puppy, eyes only for his mate. All his attention fixed on her. But...could they blame him? Looking at her, he saw the impossible. He saw something that should not have existed, but did. A gift he wouldn't squander. A prize he would cherish.

"Ayas Drollaya! Fian verah baejah?" Elyon Marquin stepped forward, her hand on the pommel of her sword, a question in her eyes. Behind her, the fire cast her in an orange glow, making her armor shine in the darkness...like starlight. The effect was ethereal, out of this world.

"Ni, Elyon. I will be fine. And, the common tongue, if you please, when we are around our own." Claire's voice was firm, but gentle.

Elyon nodded. "Ninneem. Of course, Your Majesty."

They moved away and he said, "I look forward to the day that I understand their words. But, I do not mind if they converse with you in their mother-tongue."

Her head tilted regarding him. Their feet took them towards the open wilderness. "It does not bother you that you cannot understand the words?"

He lifted a shoulder. "I suppose a little. But I trust that if it's important, you'd translate. At any rate, I do not wish for them to be closed off from their heritage."

Claire pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, thoughtful. "I would prefer they include everyone, when there are others around. Others that we trust, I mean, like our Shields. It is a sign of respect. More so, it's simply courteous. I want there to be no animosity."

"Our Shields," he teased. "I love hearing you say that."

Her eyes darted up to meet his and she smiled. "I'm trying to get better about it."

"And I appreciate the effort." They fell silent for several minutes, letting the darkness of the evening surround them. Soon the days would lengthen enough that it would still be daylight. He loved the longer days. His mood did too, and often needed all the help it could get.

He cleared his throat and said, "I know we are coming off a battle high, but I think it's time to start considering our next move."

She sighed. "I was wondering when you'd bring that up." Her hand squeezed his. "What are your thoughts?"

"I wanted to hear yours, first."

She made a sound in the back of her throat. "That's hardly fair. You're the one who brought it up." He lifted a brow. "Oh, all right. All right." She fell into silent contemplation. At last, she said, "The Stones. Taylynn and I discussed it."

"Yes, I saw that." Call him selfish, but he made it a point to sift through her mind at every opportunity. He'd always loved flying, but having her there, having access to her mind, made him love the experience infinitely more. Being able to know her better, understand her, simply by traversing the paths of her memories. He'd seen so much of her world, its strangeness, its curiosities, its evils. Admittedly, it fascinated him, and he found himself tumbling into various memories more than once, simply to see some of the technological advancements. Metal airplanes that carried hundreds, giant cruise ships, telephones that fit in a pocket, allowing the speaker to talk with someone across the world. He wondered what Dragonwall would be like with some of these inventions. Would it help them, or destroy them?

"I'm thinking I'll write out what I saw in my dreams," Claire was saying. He snapped his mind back to the present. "That way, perhaps we can narrow the landscape down to several locations. Like, in one of them, I've seen one place that looks like a cave. So maybe we can look at the map and find places where caves are located?"

"I can take a deeper look, as well. See if I recognize any of it. But, it sounds like finding a needle in a haystack," he mused.

"Maybe there's some way to sense their power? If we can get near enough to them?"

"Hmm...we had better hope so."

She frowned, her brow furrowing. "Perhaps if we just get rid of Kane, there won't be any need to find the Stones. Leave them hidden, under whatever protection he's given them—"

"No." He hadn't meant to cut her off. "I will not risk another Kane rising to power ten thousand years from now. We do this right, so that Dragonwall never goes through it again."

She sighed. "Yes, you're right."

"Beyond the Stones, we still need to take care of him. Your magic has grown significantly. Are you ready to take him on?" His stomach turned rock hard. He hated the idea. Hated that she'd made this Promise, taken on this responsibility.

"I..." She slowed to a stop, turning to him. Her lip caught between her teeth, a nervous habit. "I wasn't able to do it alone, before, in the forest."

"You didn't have the staff."

A breath left her. "True. Maybe that will change things."

"It gives you access to a well of power, the Tree's power."

"Yes." She hesitated and then, "Perhaps I will speak to the Tree about it. I'm certain there is a time and place for everything, and the Tree orchestrates it. I won't face Kane—I won't eliminate Kane—until the Tree is ready for it."

He snorted. "Gods. I really want to say something snide. About you sounding like a Sprite."

Her face split into a grin. "Except you can't, because I am a Sprite."

"But you are also born of Drengr ancestry. Irelia was both."

"True. And I have not yet found a way to meld my magics. I find myself resorting to my Spriten magic almost exclusively. I still need them to make peace with both, before I'm powerful enough for Kane."

"Can Cyrus help with that?" he wondered. Her eyes took on a far away look. A look he'd come to know. "What is it? What is he saying?"

"That he can help, but that it is a task I must learn for myself, must conquer on my own." She snorted and her eyes sharpened. "He knows, he's just being obstinate." There was a level of fondness in her voice that made his heart swell.

"I miss him," he admitted, unafraid of his vulnerability before her. "Even having him closer, feeling the touches of him in your mind, I wish...I wish he were here. I wish he hadn't sacrificed himself." His muscles tensed. "I wish he had held on a little longer, held out for Reyr. I..."

"Talon..." Claire's eyes softened in the gloaming. She reached up and took his scarred face in her hands, caressing his jaw with her thumbs. His skin warmed everywhere she touched. "I wish it too, so much. But...everything happened exactly as it was supposed to. The Tree has made that much clear. I wouldn't have come here if he'd lived. You know that. I know that."

He sighed, hating it.

"I was the key—I am the key—to defeating Kane. Promise or not, Queen Isabella paid a price, and I was the result of that price. I'm the one who's supposed to bring balance back to Dragonwall." A strangled laugh burst from her chest. "That sounds rather ridiculous, doesn't it? Like, I'm the chosen one blah, blah blah. But I guess I am. I needed to come here, Talon. If Cyrus hadn't died, I wouldn't have."

"That's not true." He said the words, even if he didn't believe them, didn't want to believe them.

"No. It is. If Cyrus had lived, he would have left with Reyr and the others. Talon...they never would have flouted the laws and brought me to Dragonwall for no good reason. Cyrus knew that. No, they would have left immediately to get him the help he needed in Dragonwall." She sighed, her expression turning unreadable. Her voice lowered as she said, "You would still be alone, none the wiser of my existence, and I'd still be...there."

He hated the thought. Didn't want to think about it. So he said, "Stuck in your world, applying for jobs and fending off attempts from your ex to get back together."

"Oh, please. Don't remind me." Amusement crept into her tone. She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth, then settled on her heels and smiled up at him. He dropped his forehead to hers, closed his eyes, and inhaled, letting the moment wrap around them.

At last, she reached for his hand and gave him a tug, resuming their walk. Around them, the final vestiges of light faded until the darkness lay heavy like a blanket, shrouding them. The sky was overcast, clouds glowing where the moon lay hidden. Humidity signaled approaching rain, but he wasn't worried. It had rained two days past, overnight, and he'd been thrilled to witness Spriten magic as several of Claire's guards wove a protective bubble around their encampment, allowing the others to sleep without concern.

"Will things change much, when I return?"

He rubbed his thumb over hers. "We both know they will. I will make the announcement."

She knew which one he meant. "Claire...I would like you to move into the tower when we return. I know our ceremony has yet to happen but—"

"All right."

He faltered. "All right?"

"Yes. All right. I'll move into the tower." Her face gave nothing away, until a tiny twitch at the corner of her lips made him chuckle.

"You're toying with me," he accused. She lifted a shoulder. "You are not going to fight me on this, then?"

"Talon," she scolded. "When was the last time I fought you on something?"

He opened his mouth—

"Never mind! Don't answer that." She let out a quiet snicker. "But no, I am not going to fight you. I have my Queen's Guard to think of now. The Hall of Kings will be rather crowded, trying to find accommodations for all of them, don't you think?"

He hummed in agreement. It was one of the reasons he'd made the suggestion. No, that was a lie. He'd made it wholly to have her closer. "I know the queen has her own chambers, and below those, chambers for her entourage...but I want you sleeping in my bed, my chambers. Give the other to Desaree, or your Spriten handmaidens." As soon as he said it, he held his breath. Waiting. And gods, she made him squirm.

Finally, she offered him a smile. "You're just dying inside right now, aren't you?"

"I'm not," he lied.

"I almost feel as if I shouldn't answer you. Won't that drive you mad?"

He growled. With abrupt movements, he dragged her into his arms, lifting her into a tight embrace. She squealed, the sound breathless, stoking his arousal. "Gods, woman.You delight in vexing me. Give me your answer."

He held her against him, her head higher than his, looking down at him, feet dangling. She threw her head back and laughed. "You know, Your Majesty, in my world, many married couples share beds. And even unmarried. It is not so inappropriate as it seems here. Gods. Dragonwall is archaic. Don't think I haven't noticed the way Desaree's been sneaking off to Verath's tent back at camp, or that she was sneaking into his chambers at night, before that, hoping to avoid notice. Are people in the keep really so prudish?"

"You'd be surprised," he chuckled. "Servants love their gossip, remember?"

She groaned, rolling her eyes. His gaze danced over her face, taking in the mirth, the brightness in her expression. He loved her like this, unguarded, happy. Perhaps he'd be able to make her happy—keep her happy—enough that she'd never regret her decision to rule by his side. He pushed the thought away. "Your answer?"

She lowered her face, giving him a chaste kiss. "There's no other bed I'd rather be in than yours. But, on one condition."

A warning growl emanated low in his chest. Anyone else would have regarded him with wide eyes, or turned tail and gotten as far away as possible. The beastly sound, a warning, grew louder. She only smiled wider, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

"If I'm to sleep in your bed, then you can't stay up all hours of the night, every single night, leaving me alone," she said. He huffed. "I'm serious, Talon. You could benefit from more sleep. Most nights, you don't sleep at all. Don't think I haven't noticed the shadows under your eyes. Drengr you might be, nearly immortal, but you need sleep, the same as anyone else."

Was it even an argument? Hardly! "If it means holding you in my arms? Deal."

"And that doesn't mean staying up until the wee hours of the morning, then creeping in for an hour or two. I don't appreciate disturbances."

"Gods, woman. You've got some gall barking orders at your king." With a rush, he lowered her and kissed her soundly, then began making smacking noises as he attacked the side of her neck, laying open mouthed kisses along her pulse, devouring her, until her laughter rang out around them. She clutched his head between her hands.

"I'll bark whatever commands I see fit, my king," she managed in between giggles. When he came up for air, he found that he, too, was smiling. Her eyes darted over his lips, and her smile faltered, expression turning serious.

"What is it?" he asked, a measure of tentative worry creeping in. She was looking at his scars, really looking at them. He could always tell. He hoped one day her scrutiny would be easier to bear, that he wouldn't fight the urge to turn away and hide his face from her.

Her next words caught him off guard.

"I love you, Talon. So freaking much."

His chest deflated. He dropped his head and kissed her, tenderly this time, letting his lips linger, letting his tongue explore hers until she mewed beneath his efforts. The fire in his chest expanded, until his center was clenching with desire. His mind darted back to that night in the tent, when she'd returned, when she'd—no. He couldn't think of that now, or he'd have her on her back in seconds, clothes ripped to shreds between his clawed draconic talons. He pulled away instead, hands all but trembling, and said, "I love you too, darling. More than I could possibly articulate into coherent words."

"Well! Growls will do just fine then." Her eyes danced. Gods! This woman.

"Growls?!" he demanded. Before she could blink, he'd bent and scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He swatted her rear hard enough to make his palm sting, earning a screech. "You think I'm some beast?! Fine. I'll return you to camp like one."

"Talon!"

He quickened his stride back towards the glowing orange light in the distance, all the while, Claire beating her fists against his back, squealing and laughing, incoherent as she begged him to put her down. But he could hear it in her voice. Her request was half-hearted. All he could do was smile, withholding a chuckle as he savored the remains of this moment alone together. For all too soon, getting even a few minutes from his duties at court would be a battle. 

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐

Happy Friday Bookdragons!

I just love writing Claire + Talon scenes. They're the cutest. It's hard to believe how far things have come between them. All the changes. But I love it. I AM HERE FOR IT.

Next week's chapter is from Bennett's POV. I can't wait to share it with you, because I really had fun writing it. 

Hope you have a great weekend and upcoming week. See you next time!

-Mel