Page 14 of Water Dragon
She had known the day was coming. She had seen how he looked at Lady Shannon. Why was the statement of it making her feel as though the room was getting smaller around her, as though the air was getting sucked out of it, as though she was shrinking and deflating.
“Oh,” she repeated, wanting to kick herself at her inarticulation.
So, she was going to have to choose much sooner than she would have thought. She had spent the day away from him and had been glad of the time it had given her to think, but she’d not landed in anything conclusive. Other than that, the thought of not seeing him every day left her feeling void of much sensation.
She’d thought him dependent on her, but hadn’t she encouraged it? Hadn’t it made her feel useful and wanted and needed? Hadn’t she grown as accustomed to it as he had? Who was she without him?
It was a frightening idea to not even know herself, but the truth was that she had spent over a century by his side. She had managed to shift into her dragon shape the day after his first shift and they had learned to fly together. She couldn’t imagine stepping out into the great, big unknown without him by her side to discover it with her.
“I want to become a courtier,” she blurted out.
At least it would mean she could have some say in her own fate. An elevated status and the future king’s favor would secure her a standing and a right to stay by his side, even when he was mated.
Why did the thought pain her hearts as though needles were shoving themselves through them?
Mated.
There it was again, pricking and stinging without fail. The sensation wasn’t new. She’d been experiencing it for the past few months and had written it off as stupid jealousy by a possessive friend who had no right not to be excited and delighted at the prospect of a happy union. But now, it felt different somehow. Almost desperate.
A smile split his face and the relief that flooded her at the sight of it was immediate, relaxing her to the point of needing to sit down.
It signaled that he hadn’t changed his mind, that he still wanted her in his court.
For a breath she had feared he would tease her and tell her it had all been a joke.
Instead, he looked jubilant in a way that she felt would stop the needles from ever attacking her hearts again. Because it was clear to her how he wanted her with him. As he readied himself to step into this unknown, as he had a crown placed on his head, as he moved into his destiny.
He wanted her there for all the discoveries he would be afforded.
Then his arms were around her and he pulled her close in a tight embrace, burying his face against her neck.
Her hands went to his shoulders, resting against the taut muscles she could feel through the thin fabric of his tunic. She held on even tighter, pressing herself to him as the understanding hit her of how everything was still going to change between them.
He smelled of the ocean, and of the yew tree logs in his father’s fireplace. Underneath it he smelled of him. A scent that was neither sweet nor salty but somewhere in between. Like the licorice he sometimes bought her at market, dark and inviting and surprisingly beguiling every time she got to taste it. Not that she’d ever gotten to taste him. Or that she’d want to…
She frowned, her mind scrambling to get off the track it had slipped onto. She was suddenly growing aware of his breath against the skin of her neck and the goosebumps that spread across her shoulders were enough for her to release her hold on him, pulling back to underline how the hug should end. But he refused to let her go. His hands were splayed against her back and kept her firmly in place.
As her mind caught up to the fact that she was flush against him, she felt a heat start in her belly. The length of his body was against hers—their chests connected, then their bellies, then their thighs and…
She put her hands against his shoulders and pushed gently, his hold releasing immediately, but his hands slipped to her waist rather than dropping away from her. She paused, eyes meeting his. He looked as discombobulated as she felt and for one split second her gaze wanted to drift to his mouth, but she stubbornly stopped herself from such foolishness.
This was fear, nothing more. This was her not wanting to lose him, not feeling ready to let go of him, to watch him disappear down the hallways with another woman at his side. It was selfish and it wasn’t real.
She had never thought of him like that. Well, except that one time.
But no. There would be no more of this folly. Even though the heat in her belly swelled as his hold on her waist tightened a fraction, keeping her from stepping away from him, a pleading expression in his gaze that made her want to wrap her arms around him again.
There was more that he had to share. She could tell.
“What is it?” she asked, breathless at the prospect that he had not only made the choice of mate but that they’d spoken, his chosen one had said yes, and the date for the bonding ceremony had already been decided.
“I have a request,” he said.
She realized they were still touching and let her hands fall from his shoulders, finally making him relent and release his hold on her as his arms fell to hang along his sides. She felt like reaching for him again but suppressed the urge.
“Will I enjoy this request?” she asked, a shiver running through her at the thought of having to help his mate choose the dress for the ceremony, the flowers for the dinner, the music for the ceremonial dancing.
“I do not know if you’ll enjoy it,” he admitted.
