She snatched her hands back when she realized they were resting against his bare chest. His lips pressed into a flat line and a faint trace of smoke rose on his next exhale.
“It is not that simple right now, Eliza,” he finally ground out. “Leaving Avonleya requires getting blood from Scarlett and blood from Cethin to return. She has her own matters to tend to. I cannot be tracking her down for blood when needed. What if she is here collecting Cyrus?”
“That’s not my problem,” she retorted.
“Wrong, Milady,” he growled again, moving his face inches from hers. “This became your problem when you volunteered to become my Source.”
“When this war is over, everything will be easier,” she said, shoving down the desire coursing through her. “The Wards will be down, and you will be free to Travel when needed. You just need to endure it until then.”
“Endure it until then,” he repeated.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she replied, pushing against him to stand.
He let her go, getting to his feet just as quickly. She moved to retrieve her sword, sending it away in a burst of flame. When she turned back to him, she found his hands loosely fisted at his sides, and the faint outline of scales shimmered beneath his skin, reflecting the soft glow of the fire. They made his skin darker, and she briefly wondered what his full dragon form looked like.
“Are you going back to your rooms?” he asked tightly.
“Yes,” she answered, wrapping her arms around herself, looking away from him.
“Straight there?”
“Does it matter?” she tossed back.
“It does.”
She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t, Razik.”
He studied her for a long moment, seeming to debate something, before he nodded curtly. His wings appeared, and he bent his knees in preparation for launching into the night.
“Where are you going?” she asked, lurching forward a step.
He gave her a mocking smile. “Does it matter?” When she stared back at him, her lips sealed tight, he said, “I didn’t think so.”
But she knew. She knew as she made her way back up to the palace that he was flying above her, making sure she got back all right. It was an instinct he couldn’t fight against.
And she hated that it mattered.
Chapter11
Scarlett
The stars were dull tonight, blocked by the clouds. The world was too still. She could feel it all. Everything hanging in the balance.
Scarlett released a slow breath. The too soft grass swayed gently around her as she studied the map burning in the air above her. Thin lines of white flames created an outline of their continent and Avonleya along with the borders of the various territories. She studied the red and orange embers hovering in various places, moving some to new positions. Moving pieces into place. Setting up the game.
It was almost time.
She’d been forced to stay behind more times than she liked these past few days. She’d been hiding out in Avonleya out of necessity, but it hadn’t been wasted time. Not when she’d been training every day with Cethin and learning to fight off the same draining magic Alaric had. Not when she had learned where she truly came from. Not when she finally,finally, had all the pieces laid out in front of her. Now it was making sure they were all where they needed to be. Making minor adjustments as Alaric made his moves.
As Saylah made hers.
But tomorrow?
Tomorrow when she saw Alaric things would be set into motion that could not be undone. The final game would start.
Sorin had gone to bed hours ago. It had been a long day, and he was still adjusting. She had spent the entire afternoon and evening planning with Cassius and Sorin. When Sorin was all but falling asleep in the middle of their discussions, she’d told him to go to bed and that she would be in shortly.
Cassius had stayed another three hours, then she’d come here two hours ago.