Kastali Dun

Talon followed Claire into her quarters, chasing after her lavender scent as if hypnotized. He chided himself for accepting her invitation, but he could no more refuse it than he could refuse her in nearly anything. Was it the mate bond that made him weak? Perhaps his growing affection towards her?

Just a few minutes, he told himself, justifying the decision. Then he would politely remind her that she needed rest, that it was getting late, that he had other business to attend to, as he always did.

"I just opened this red earlier," she called from across the room. "I think you'll like it. It's had time to settle now." She lifted a bottle to her nose and inhaled, then smiled with her eyes closed. He remained in the entryway, watching her like prey. He blinked and cleared his head. She wasn't that. Yet, the black dragon inside him stirred. She stoked some deeply rooted instincts, capturing his attention and ensnaring it.

"Red is fine," he mused, stalking his way across the room without removing his gaze from her. She turned her back on him to gather a goblet. Her slender shoulders were bare. He traced the lines and planes, gaze lingering over the Sprite mark. It was beautiful against her skin, much as he hated to admit that. His attention fixed upon her neck and the wisps of hair that had come untucked. He stepped up behind her—as close as was possible without stepping on her flowing gown—and pretended to watch her movements over her shoulder. Before he could stop it, his hand brushed the loose strands of her hair away from her neck. An excuse to touch her. She stilled beneath his fingers, responding to his touch. He pulled his hand away.

"Here," she said, turning. She lifted her goblet and clinked it against his. "To finding what was once thought lost."

"And carving new beginnings," he added and then took a sip, keeping her unearthly green eyes locked on his. "Mmm." He rolled the liquid around on his tongue before swallowing it. "From the North, if I had to guess?" He reached around her for the bottle, allowing his body to brush against hers. He didn't really care where the wine had come from, even though he made a show of reading the label tied around the bottle's neck. Her breathing heightened, louder and more staggered at his close proximity. Was this the effect he had on her? Such power thrilled and scared him. "Hmm...Yes," he said, setting the bottle down. "I've had this one before." He wasn't sure if he had. He didn't care. His words were mindless—an excuse to speak. He was too distracted to make sense.

She sipped from her own goblet and regarded him over the rim.

They were too close to the fireplace. It was too hot. "I could use some fresh air. Care to join me on the balcony?" he asked, pulling at the collar of his tunic to readjust it.

"Oh. Yes. Sure." Her forehead furrowed.

He turned and strode in the direction of the double doors, exhaling to ease the tension in his shoulders. On his way, he unclipped his cloak and tossed it over the back of a chair. Why was it so frustrating to want two completely different things at once?

Out on the balcony, the cool air kissed his face. He inhaled, taking in the salty sea breeze. It calmed his nerves.

Claire came up to stand beside him. "Only two minutes alone with me and you're already avoiding me," she said, her voice joking as if to make light of the statement. She stood close. Too close. He felt the heat rolling off her like the waves below, slamming against the cliff walls.

"Avoiding you?" He paid her a sidelong glance. "What makes you think that? We've spent nearly the entire evening together."

She sighed. "That's not what I meant and you know it. We've been alone plenty since discovering our mate bond. But each time you catch yourself getting close to me, you pull away." He opened his mouth to argue. But she was right. He was avoiding her in that way.

"Why?" she asked. "Is it...is it because you're afraid of me?"

An embarrassingly high-pitched laugh escaped his lips. He clamped his mouth shut, frowning. "Afraid of you? No. Afraid of the way you make me feel? Yes. Certainly." The words were out before he could stop them.

She tilted her head, regarding him like he was a curious creature on display. "I get that, but...why do you fight it? Why do you fight me?"

"I might ask, then, why you accept me so mindlessly? You used to hate me, remember? And for good reason. But the moment you discovered our bond, you stopped fighting me. You stopped challenging me. Gods! We never even argue anymore, Claire—not that it's a bad thing. You know I dislike arguing with you. Sometimes I even catch you looking at me like...like..."

"Like what exactly?!" Her expression turned defensive, guarded.

"Like I'm the most wonderful thing you've ever seen in your short span of twenty-two years. When I know quite well that I'm not." He grunted and shook his head. "Sometimes I fall for it, you know, those looks you reward me with, then I look at my reflection and remember what I am. Who I am."

This wasn't the conversation he wanted to have—not tonight. Tonight had been perfect. He'd hoped it would end that way. He should have declined her offer to stay. He ran a hand through his hair, only to remember he was still wearing his crown. He nearly knocked it over the balcony wall. Catching it, he set it beside his goblet on the parapet. It clanged down with more force than he intended.

"What exactly are you implying, Talon?" She held her goblet clenched in one hand and stood motionless, glaring at him.

"I'm saying you are befuddled by our mate bond. You wouldn't look at me twice if it wasn't for that."

"Are you kidding me? Really?! Is that what you think?!" She shook her head and walked away from him, nearly sloshing her wine, then rounded to face him, frustration rippling in the air around her. "Befuddled? That's what you think I am? You think my discovering our bond simply transformed my feelings? Just like that?" She snapped her fingers.

He opened his mouth—

"Look Talon, if you think I simply care about you because of our bond, you're wrong."

"You don't expect me to believe a few letters passed back and forth before my departure to Esterpine was enough to win your heart. Forgive me if I fail to believe it."

"It wasn't just the letters."

"Oh?" He held himself motionless. Couldn't move so much as a single muscle. "Oblige me, then, Lady Claire. What grand act have I done to wash away all the horrible things that made you hate me?"

He waited...afraid. Several painfully long moments passed.

"It wasn't one single moment, Talon." Her voice came out gentler than he expected. She paused, chewing at the skin of her bottom lip. She always did this when she was conflicted, he realized. "It started with...with the way you cared for me after I was kidnapped. But I didn't...the feelings weren't there yet. That was our turning point, the point when you opened my heart. Brezen was simply the moment that you fixed yourself there permanently."

"Brezen?" He scowled, thinking over what had happened there. Trying to recall some monumental incident he might have missed between them.

"When you arrived, you weren't angry, even though I expected you to be. You...you were forgiving. Different." She shrugged and glanced out into the darkness. "The way you handled everything that had happened at Fort Squall. The epitome of composure. The time you spent with me walking in the evenings. Your thoughtfulness. Your gifts. Your tender moments. Each of those things imprinted upon me. But it was the night in the tent, ultimately, that made up my mind."

"In...in the tent?" His throat bobbed.

"When we talked about your scars. It allowed me to finally see you differently. My mind went back through everything that happened between us before that. Each of the moments between us. From my arrival here and thereafter. Everything clicked into place. I thought about the way you..." She fell silent.

"The way I what?" He couldn't breathe.

"The way you washed me after rescuing me from Eagle and his men." Her face turned a deep shade of red. "You gave me a bath and put me to sleep in your own bed. Even in my world...well...most men wouldn't do something that sweet. But you're not most men, are you, Talon? You're a king. Dragonwall's king."

He blinked, trying to take it all in. Trying to think of something to say.

"Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I see you standing there," she whispered, "hunched over me, washing my feet. It took that night in the tent to put everything into perspective. I think...I think I felt something for you then. Something more than adoration, even if I wasn't ready to admit it to myself. I felt..." She clamped her mouth shut and turned away to look out over the sea. Out into the darkness. Her hand gripped her wine goblet so tightly that the whites of her knuckles were showing. "What are you doing to me, Talon?" The last was almost impossible to hear.

His pulse raced. "So, it wasn't simply the mate bond?"

She turned, sloshing wine this time. "Didn't you just listen to a word I said?! Look, Talon, if the mate bond didn't exist and we were standing here as we are now, I would still want to kiss you just as badly as I do right now."

"You..." Warmth blossomed in his chest, traveling down. His pants were suddenly too tight. Hunger clawed at his insides. "You want me?"

She groaned. "You frustrating, frustrating man!" It almost made him smile, the scolding tone in her voice. She lifted her goblet and drained it, then slammed it on the parapet wall and turned to him, holding him captive with her gaze. Suddenly she'd become the predator and he the prey.

Only a few seconds passed, but it felt like a lifetime of silence. Her eyes darted over his face, tracing each imperfection on his skin. He'd never felt more exposed than he did in this moment. It took everything to keep him from covering his face, from turning away.

"Come here, Talon."

The command left his insides curling. His feet moved before he could stop them, closing the distance between them until he was before her. She lifted a hand and he flinched. She froze, fingers hovering over his skin. "You have no reason to fight me anymore. No reason to fear me. Please...don't be afraid."

His chest fell. "I'm...I'm not afraid." She'd won.

The air in his lungs fled when she laid her hand against his scarred cheek. The warmth of her skin mixed with his. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

"You might hate your scars, but I do not. They tell a story. Perhaps not the story you wish, but every tale has two sides. You hear the one of loss and heartbreak. I hear the one of bravery and heroic deeds." She traced her fingers along his skin, sending sparks through him.

His eyes fluttered open. "But they are ugly. My face is ruined. How can you...how can you bear to look at me? Your beauty. Your pure heart..." He shook his head. "You could win anyone you wanted. Why me?"

She reached up with both hands this time, using her thumbs to smooth the scowl that had formed between his eyebrows. Her next words dripped over him like warm honey. "Talon...yours is the only heart I wish to conquer."

"But you already have." His throat constricted. "You already have, Claire."

She took a step forward, keeping his face in her hands, until her body was flush to his. His world froze—he froze—caught in the snare of her smoldering regard. She pulled him to her, stepping barefoot onto the toes of his boots to reach him. She brought her lips to his, gently at first, destroying the world around him with one single action.

His body exploded into sensation as her mouth moved over his.

He pulled her against him then, wrapping an arm about her waist, tangling his fingers into the hair at the base of her neck, pressing them together. He wanted to feel every stretch of her body along his. She fit against him the way a cloudy sky flowed over mountains, the way water filled whatever container it was trapped within. It left his core humming.

Their kiss didn't stop. It deepened into something needy. She twisted her fingers into his hair, trapping him against her. A low groan rumbled in his chest, reverberating upwards. There was a flash of red behind his closed lids. The dragon inside clawed to break free, begging him to let go. His arousal heightened. He hardened against her. His skin shimmered. The itch of scales rose like the hairs of his skin standing on end.

Claire let out a gasp and pulled her mouth away, breaking their kiss.

He did not release her. Would not. Could not release her. "Claire..." He whispered her name.

"I...I'm sorry," she gasped, eying the scales that had erupted along his skin. "I didn't realize. I didn't mean to agitate you."

"Agitate me? You did nothing of the sort." His voice came out gravely.

"Oh." Her gaze dropped to his neck where he was certain a patch of scales had not yet receded. She kissed him there, kissing away the scales. He shuddered. A tremor raced through him. "How curious," she whispered against him, lips lingering over his skin. "So very curious." This time he erupted in gooseflesh where she touched him. Where she kissed him.

"Curious indeed," he muttered. His arms had turned to iron, fixed around her, unwilling to let go. She still stood on his boots, her forehead high enough so that he could kiss it, which he did.

"Does your skin always do that when you kiss someone?" she teased.

He snorted. "I don't remember the last person I kissed. But no. Only you. And don't mind the dragon," he added, annoyed with the beast inside. "It doesn't like it when I exercise control."

"You mean you don't like when you control yourself." She poked his chest with her index finger.

"Yes. Something like that."

"Why do it at all, then? We both know what we want." She pushed herself away from him and took his hand in hers, pulling him towards the balcony doors.

He took a few steps, drunk on her attention, on her kisses. Desperately craving another. But his senses returned in a flood of logic. He stopped just shy of the doors. "No. No, Claire, I can't. We...we can't."

Hurt crashed over her features. She dropped his hand. "I told you to stop fighting me, Talon."

"I'm not fighting you. I must control myself. You should as well. Otherwise we will be bonded before dawn. It's not...this isn't..."

What was he saying?! What had gotten into him? The most intoxicating woman in the world stood before him. She cared for him, when no one else might. She wanted him, and he wanted her. Yet, here he stood. Refusing her. Was he insane?!

His black dragon clawed at the insides of his chest, taunting him, begging him. But he couldn't. His resolve hardened. "There's a process," he said at last.

"Oh." Her shoulders fell. "Right. The ceremony. But why do we have to do it in that order? Seems a little archaic to me."

She was right. Tradition was tradition, but it could always be abandoned.

"The order of events is not necessary for anyone else. But I am a king. It is expected." He took a step towards her. "And besides, it is more than that. I cannot seal our bond tonight, Claire. Not before you understand all that comes with it."

She crossed her arms. "Then tell me."

So it had indeed come to this. He knew it would eventually. He turned and walked back to the parapet wall where he took up his half-emptied goblet. After a sip, he turned to lean against the wall. To regard her. "If I were any other, the matter would be simple. But I'm not simply any Drengr, and the matter is not simple."

"I know that. You're the king. This is the part where you tell me I've got to become Dragonwall's queen, right?" She arched an eyebrow, challenging him.

"Well, yes. There's that. But still, it gets worse. Becoming Dragonwall's queen sounds easy until you understand the responsibility attached to it. You've said so yourself, you don't know how I manage to handle it, day after day, year after year. The responsibility of being a servant to my people. The freedom I sacrifice for it. It would be no different for you."

She pulled her shoulders back, standing taller. "I'm okay with that, Talon. If it means being with you, I'll take whatever responsibility life throws at me. Look what I've been through? I left my home. My family. My world. I've faced you. I've faced the Screamers. I've faced Eagle and his men. I defeated the Vodar. I think I can handle responsibility if I put my mind to it."

He chuckled. "Yes, you've proven that you can do anything you put your mind to."

"Exactly." She lifted her chin. "So if you think I'm going to abandon our mate bond simply in fear of responsibility, you're mistaken."

His heart burst free, soaring high over the clouds as if he were flying, but the feeling was short-lived. "What if it means that you can never go home? That you will never see your family again?"

Her eyes widened a measure. She opened her mouth then closed it. "What are you saying?"

It wasn't fair. She shouldn't have had to choose between him and her family—her home. But nothing about ruling was ever fair.

"I know how much you miss your loved ones, your friends, your world." He hesitated. "You once begged me to let you go home, and I refused. I've kept you here for your safety, but also because I'm selfish. None of this is fair. Yet, neither can I allow you to leave. Not yet. Not until Kane is defeated and I know it's safe for you to go back there. Not until I know he won't follow you through the Gate and use you against me. But when this is all over and Kane is defeated, I have every intention of allowing you to return home, even though it will hurt me irrevocably."

"What are you saying?" she hissed. The color drained from her face. "You...you want me to leave?"

"Gods, no! I don't want you to leave. But I also cannot keep you here against your will."

"But, but I don't want to go home." She shook her head. "Not yet, anyway."

"You don't?" He lifted his eyebrows. "You don't want to see your family again? Your friends? Have pancakes and coffee? Watch the sun set over the corn fields of Indiana?"

"I..." Her eyebrows pulled together. A frown exploded across her features. Her shoulders sagged. She came over to lean against the parapet beside him. "I mean, I thought maybe I could go back to say goodbye. But I couldn't actually live there again. I'm part Sprite, Talon. And with Cyrus, with everything—" She shook her head. "My place is here now."

"I see."

"But, why couldn't I just pop through the Gate for a few days to say goodbye? Why must accepting our bond mean I am alienated from my family?"

He sighed. "If you become queen, the people of Dragonwall will become your chief priority. It wouldn't be safe for you to abandon them, even if for a few days. Here, it's easy to make promises. You possess a great deal of power and authority."

"So...?"

"That authority will not follow you through the Gate. If you go through, you might never come back. That is not a risk I'm willing to take."

"I..." Her throat bobbed.

He could see her thoughts turning over, the realization sinking in.

"You're right," she said at last.

He nodded. "Once you are my queen, your life no longer belongs to you."

"I will belong to Dragonwall," she whispered.

"Exactly." It crushed him to see the realization sink in. To see her realize what she would give up. It was the reason he'd avoided this conversation. Especially earlier, before the ball. "And now you understand that this is no simple matter. You face a difficult choice, Claire. One I wish you didn't have to make."

She opened her mouth—

"No, before you speak, let me finish. You might think you know the answer right now, in this moment, but I cannot trust it. I cannot, in good faith, accept whatever you are just about to say. A decision like this takes time and consideration. I want you to think about your future, about what you want. I want you to think about what I'm asking of you. It isn't fair. But ruling is selfless. Anyone who believes otherwise wouldn't make a good ruler." He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Even now, she leaned into his touch. "I feel like a monster for placing this difficulty upon you." He hesitated. "Am I?"

"No," she whispered. "Of course not."

He exhaled. "If I could bear this weight for you, I would. I would bear everything so that you might be freer, happier, lighter."

"No, Talon." She shook her head. "You've been through enough. This...this is mine to bear, and I can." She grabbed his hand and laid it across her cheek, leaning into it. Her eyes squeezed shut. A single tear freed itself and slid down her other cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb, then pulled her against him, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I'm sorry," he whispered. It felt like the only thing he could say at a moment like this.

"I know," she whispered. "I know."

He took her in his arms and lifted her off her feet, meeting her lips with his. She hesitated, but at last she responded, kissing him back, relaxing against him. It helped to quell some of the lingering anxiety. She still wanted to kiss him, at least. Thank the gods for that.

His biggest fear hovered over him like an oppressing cloud. What if she chose her family over him? What if, after coming so close to finding his mate, everything fell apart?

She must have sensed his unease, because she wrapped her arms about his neck and pushed herself more deeply into his kiss. She tugged on his bottom lip as she pulled away, sending fire through him.

"I'm not going anywhere, Talon," she murmured, rubbing her nose against his. "I told you before and I'll tell you again. You don't have to be alone anymore. I would give up everything. All of it. You know that."

Emotion slammed into him, nearly knocking him backwards. His mate. This wonderful, brilliant, amazing woman. His mate. She knew exactly what he needed to hear.

"Even still," he murmured against her lips, "promise me you will think about it. When you give me your final answer, I will know it is genuine. I cannot bear for you to have any regrets. I may be selfish, but..." He sighed.

She placed her hands on either side of his jaw, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. "I already know what I want, but I...I'll think about it. I promise."

"Thank you." He kissed her forehead.

She stepped down off his boots and he smiled as he watched her retrieve her goblet and walk back into her quarters. The interior danced with the orange glow of candlelight. Retrieving his goblet and crown from the parapet wall, he followed after her.

"Another cup before the night ends?" She held up the wine bottle, a smile on her face, as if the conversation hadn't happened. "It's not empty yet."

"I should probably go." He wanted to stay, but he also felt the heavy toll of their conversation. It weighed on him. He'd made things harder for them, and that was his fault, because of who he was.

She sighed, as if his reluctance was exactly what she expected. "Please don't go, Talon. I'm not going to be able to sleep yet. Stay for one more, and sit with me by the fire." She held out her hand to him.

He eyed it. "All right. You win. You always win."

He went to her, handing over his goblet. She refilled it. Then, with movements that surprised him, she took the crown from his hand, looking it over before setting it beside the empty bottle on the wine cabinet. The familiarity and ease of her movements loosened something in him. Like he could see a life with her, a normal future, where the two of them did this regularly, enjoyed each other's company every night. A glimpse of what life might be like if she accepted him. He wanted it more than anything in the world. He understood the power she had over him. What he would do for her.

She took her goblet in one hand and his hand in the other and led him to the sofa. Her gown fluffed out around her when she sat down. She looked down at herself and giggled. "I feel like a cupcake in this thing."

"A cupcake?" He couldn't help but smile. "As in, a cake that's in a cup?"

She laughed. "You don't know what cupcakes are?! Tell me you're joking!"

"Not joking."

"We must remedy that immediately." Cupcakes, as it turned out, were just as the name suggested. Cakes baked in small cups, iced with a heap of frosting. They sounded delicious. "I have a weakness for cupcakes, actually," she admitted. Her voice turned dreamy. "I don't even care what kind. Carrot, German chocolate, vanilla."

He put his arm around her, pulling her into the crook of his shoulder. "Is that so?" he murmured into her hair. "Tell me more about these cupcakes then."

She giggled. "Fine, but you asked."

He kissed the top of her head as she launched into a detailed explanation about confections. They stayed like that for a long while, their conversation morphing into other things. She told him about all the different foods in her world. Foods that she missed or disliked. He was happy to sit and let her talk and talk and talk, resting his chin against her hair, smiling at some of the silly things she said, inhaling the sent of lavender every so often.

And then she fell quiet. It wasn't until a gentle snore broke the silence that he realized she had fallen asleep, long emptied wine goblet still in hand. He chuckled, drained the rest of his, then set both on the table beside the sofa. The movement roused her, but she only offered a pleased sigh. A worry line had formed between her eyebrows. He smoothed it with his thumb. Her lips pulled into a tiny smile as she sank deeper against his shoulder without waking.

He was tempted to sit that way all night, simply so that he could watch her sleep. "But you'll probably wake with a stiff neck if I do that," he mused. Still, he sat that way for a while longer, listening to her breathing, watching the rise and fall of her chest, taking in the curves of her breasts, tracing her delicate collar bones with his fingers every so often when he needed to remind himself that she was real.

At last, when he saw the first inklings of dawn light breaking through the clouds beyond the glass doors, it was time to leave her. He grunted at his lack of self-control. So much for only staying for a few minutes.

He gently adjusted her so that she was comfortably spread across the sofa. It was difficult with her gown spilling over onto the floor, but he managed, propping a pillow under her head and tossing a blanket over her bare shoulders. She mumbled something but continued sleeping. It made him smile. Leaning over her, he softly kissed her lips. Another quiet sigh broke free of her.

As he strode across the room, he paid her one final look before turning to leave. The sight of her stretched across the sofa left him longing to run back to her, but he didn't. His cloak and crown remained where they'd been left. He regained his cloak and almost his crown, too, before a grin spread across his lips. No, better to leave it. That would give her an excuse to come and find him later. So instead, he quietly slipped through the door and left her to her dreams, hoping they were entirely of him.

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