Page 210 of The Dryad Storm

I clutch the bedcovers, my heart quickening, as Yvan kisses the center of my chest then slides his tongue down the length of my body, trailing fire. He traces kisses lower and lower, that serpentine tongue flickering intimately over me as an inferno of pleasure detonates, I call out his name, and my vision cuts to fire as hot as a star.

We’re summoned to wakefulness by a military horn.

I turn to Yvan, his face awash in predawn’s pale blue light. He turns toward me, a steady, grave simmer to his fire.

Emotion grips my throat, and I swallow it back, holding his intense stare, the feel of our joined fire conveying more than words ever could.

Yvan takes my hand, and we tighten our fingers around each other at the same time, our breathing momentarily unsteady as the invisible flames of our bond surge covetously toward each other and I struggle to force down the sudden surge of emotion. Yes, we might lose each other in the looming fight. We might loseeverything. But Erthia needs us if there’s to be any future worth having.

“I was drawn to you the first moment I saw you,” Yvan quietly admits as his fire gives an impassioned surge.

A thick laugh escapes me through my brimming tears as I give him a wry look. “You looked at me like you hated me.”

His expression tenses with obvious remorse. “I had such a strong reaction to you I didn’t know how to handle it. The instant attraction... it wasseismic.”

I lift a brow at this, a flush sizzling over my neck as I realize I felt an instant draw to him too.

“I felt guilty about it,” he admits. “Wildlyguilty. It just got worse when you started working in the kitchens, and I scented how sincere you were. How truly ignorant you were about the world you’d landed in... and what your people were doing. I tried to keep my distance from you. But not only did Iwantyou—” flamekicks up in his eyes “—I could scent how drawn you were to me, as well. I’m truly sorry for how I treated you, Elloren.”

I shake my head, refuting his need for an apology as I wince internally at the memory of my own ignorant self and my unknowingly cruel actions.

“You’re the Icaral of Prophecy,” I say, “and I’m the granddaughter of the Black Witch. This was always going to be...complicated.”

He gives me a poignant smile as his fire power lovingly encircles me. “We were on a collision course from day one.”

I nod at this, sending my fire out to fan over his back. He pulls in a tight breath, his smile sharpening as he gently ripples his invisible fire over my shoulders and the back of my neck.

“I think I was first drawn to you,” I tell him, “that very first day I came to the kitchens in Verpacia. I looked through the storeroom window, into the main kitchen... and little Fern, she was running around laughing and blowing bubbles. She spilled her bottle of bubble soap all over you. And instead of getting upset at her... yousmiled.” I pause, overcome by so much emotion I’m rendered momentarily speechless. “Something in me lit up in that moment,” I finally manage, giving him a wavering smile. I shrug. “And I started to have feelings for you. I didn’t realize it fully in that moment, but I realize it now.”

Yvan pulls in a long, emotional breath and slides his arm around my waist, his wing arcing over me, his hand gently tracing a caressing spiral against my lower back, a shiver of sparks chasing his touch. “I think about Fern often,” he says, voice low and serious as his touch stills. “I haven’t seen her in a long time. But it’s a comfort to know that Fyon and Mora’lee are taking care of her in the Sublands.”

“Fernyllia asked me to fight for a better world for Fern,” I confide, a tear escaping my eye at the remembrance of courageous, kind Fernyllia.

Yvan nods, reaching up to gently brush away my tear. “Fernyllia took me aside the last time I saw her,” he says. “Asked me to do the same. I always got the sense she knew I was hiding something from her. Fromeveryone. I think she guessed what I am.”

We grow quiet for a moment as I think of Fern and all the other young children currently being sheltered in the Eastern Realm Sublands—Sage and Ra’Ven’s baby, Fyn’ir; fierce Nym’ellia’s little sister, Tibryl; and the fiery Icaral-child, Pyrgomanche, whom Yvan and I rescued from Valgard’s Icaral prison. And many more.

I send up a silent prayer to whatever god or goddess will listen to help themsurvive what’s to come... if they’ve even survived what’s already come to pass.

Tension weighing down the air between us, Yvan and I exchange a somber look. I can feel us both mindfully putting all these children first—putting Erthia first—but refusing to let go just yet as we pull each other into one more close hug.

We embrace for a moment in wordless, ardent alliance and unextinguishable love before we share one last kiss... and get up to face the world.

The predawn sky has lightened to a deep blue through Zhilaan’s dome-shield when Yvan and I step onto the broad, torchlit terrace hand in hand, our Wyvernbond whipping around us with a steady new intensity. Row upon row of charged weapons line the entire terrace, their multicolored runes glowing bright. Suspended, prismatic Dryad runes hang above them, feeding foliage power into their wards, and a steadily charging sky portal slashes across the sky directly above us.

Set for the West.

The terrace is already populated, a series of long tables set up, plates, mugs, and utensils stacked in their centers. I catch Rafe’s eye, and he waves me over. Diana, Andras, Aislinn, and Jarod are standing around him amidst scattered Vu Trin Dryad’khin as Zhilon’ile Dryad’khin soldiers bring out bowls of food. Valasca and Ni Vin are standing to one side near the terrace’s edge, their arms looped around each other as they converse in low tones with Trystan and Kam Vin.

I glance through the suspended runes over the dark carpet of trees, a low rumble shivering through my rootlines as the Zhilaan Forest notes Yvan’s and my presence and flows a rippling line of its fire power through our Wyvernbond, as if searching for something.

Diana raises her chin and cocks a blond brow as Yvan and I approach, her nostrils flaring.

I can spot the other Lupines doing a quick double take as well, their eyes widening slightly, and realize they’re reading what’s transpired between us. Taking obvious note of their reaction, Valasca narrows her gaze on me, one black brow rising. A sly spark dances to life in her dark eyes that warms my cheeks as Trystan surveys everyone in that quiet, insightful way of his.

Diana rushes toward us, an overjoyed light overtaking her expression that pushes back the serious energy suffusing our world.

“You two have mated!Finally!” she enthuses, so brazenly that a hot rush of heat sizzles over my face and through Yvan’s fire. She throws her arms around me withgusto, then embraces Yvan, joyously kissing us both on our cheeks before drawing back, grinning widely.

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