Page 42 of The Wrath of Ashes
Asha stared in quiet wonder as Rath blew a little puff of air upward. A flick of flame danced on his lips before smoke curled. “Doesn’t Jeron tend that, often?”
“When I’m not around to light it, yes.” Rath laughed. “But you’re comfortable with magic now. You’re comfortable with me. You’ve seen what I feared you’d fear most. Does the eternal dream not bother you?”
“What bothers me is waking one day alone, dying in pain, or drawn-out old age. The thought of sleeping away the years when I become unneeded seems rather poetic.” Asha offered Rath a soft smile and earned another kiss. This one was softer, a reward of a gentle brush of lips.
“Then that is how we shall live.” Rath pulled away and traced his fingers over Asha’s hand. “Now tell me all of what this Earl Tippen had done to you.”
Asha froze, his blood running cold as ice for two beats of his heart.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve a wedding gift to obtain. And there’s a reason I was born the prince of wrath.” Rath’s voice went low and sensual, and all Asha could do was speak.
Chapter Seventeen
Rath
Asha loved him, it was for sure. The way the male writhed under his attention, his fascination with dragons, and the acceptance as he day by day learned the facts of all the lies they’d sold him. Lies no more. Only truths for Asha.
As Rath left Asha’s room that night, mind aflame with all the horrible things Earl Tippen had done, he knew for certain what gift he’d give Asha. He merely needed to plot and plan while finishing the last of the embroidery—pushing into every stitch the glorious obsession and desire he held for his mate.
Pushing needle into thread, concentrating more fiercely than he’d ever done so before, he lost track of the hours until the wee crack of dawn through the guest quarters window heralded the millings of the castle and a rather urgent knock on his door.
“Come in.” Rath sighed and sat up, accidentally knocking his horns on a bedpost and swearing under his breath. He wasn’t presentable at all, bare-chested and sleep deprived—besotted, even. His expression or state of dress didn’t phase Nadi as she marched in, ruffling through drawers to throw garments at Rath.
“Good morning, Nadi. To what do I owe the delight of your presence?” Rath stood and didn’t argue, stuffing himself into clothes one jerky motion at a time with tender fingers sore from pushing a needle.
“You’ve a guest at the gate demanding to see Lord Asha, and their tale is quite fanciful.” Nadi sniffed and shoved a jacket at him, one he fastened over his tunic with relative ease. Rath swished his tail with an irritated flit before willing the appendage away and fastening his breeches up differently on the back to accommodate for the change in anatomy.
“What manner of human would be brave enough to come demanding my mate’s audience?” Rath sat up straight and ran fingers through his hair a few times before pinning it up behind his horns.
“I’m unsure. It’s a woman with an awful poor Monsmount accent… Says her name is Lyss.” Nadi’s face wrinkled and the name piqued his interest.
“I was of the impression she was dead…”
“Oh, she had a fanciful tale as to how she escaped death. It involved fellatio… I’m not quite certain Asha would have been friends with someone so lewd, as he’s far more innocent than she let on.” Nadi sneered and straightened Rath’s collar.
Rath sneered and pulled from Nadi’s mothering, inclining his chin before gesturing toward the door. Nadi rolled her eyes and led Rath ahead. “She’s in the dungeons?”
“Why would I bring her to the dungeons? She’s with two guards, but if, by some chance, she’s who she claims to be, I would shudder to think I imprisoned her.” Nadi sniffed indignantly and marched through the halls to one of Asha’s lesser receiving chambers. The room had a slight odor of disuse and the gold inlay in the walls had a thin veneer of tarnish to it, telling him the room had little significance. To another dragon, the chamber would have been an insult.
Sitting primly on a settee, ankles crossed, and chin held high, was a Monsmountian woman with short shorn hair chopped unevenly and stuffed under the careful tie of a hair rag. Her dress, a pale blue and smock a pale yellow, stained and well-worn but recently washed as she didn’t smell offensive. Her face bore a soured expression as she dropped her gaze upon Rath’s entry.
“Stand for the king, human,” Nadi said, as if she weren’t one herself. Her need to remind others of their low status when Rath entered their presence never really set well with him. Hetolerated the show, though, as humans didn’t understand much aside from shows of strength.
Lyss stood, her eyes never lifting to meet Rath’s, but her posture stiffened as she gave the sloppiest curtsey that he’d ever witnessed. “Your Highness.”
Rath nodded, making sure to jerk his head a little at the end, clinking his chains. He then sat primly before her and gestured for her to sit, keeping silent as he studied her movements. Even going so far as to rest his chin on his hand as he leaned to the side, boring his gaze into her for a shred of weakness. “Speak, human.”
She didn’t flinch.A good sign.
“Where’s Asha?” She flicked up her watery gaze, eyes a muddy sort of hazel that didn’t stand out enough for Rath to even appreciate. She was very nicely proportioned for a female, though.
“Why?” Rath reclined in his seat and spread his legs a little to occupy more space, his posture one that unsettled many.
“Because I want to know where me best friend has gone off to. I didn’t traipse across two countries and lift me skirts as many times as I did to get here for just anyone.” She huffed and folded her arms, meeting Rath’s gaze head-on.Amusing.
“So, you whored yourself on a grand adventure, faked your death, and swaggered up to my castle to demand an audience with Asha?” Rath drummed his nails along the arm of his chair, watching her fierce expression tighten. There was no shame in what she’d done, no pride either. Her body was a tool and nothing more, and the stink of distilled wyvern venom hung about her. She’d bartered her body to that extreme of a point. Or someone had done that to her. She was awfully young for that.
