Page 62 of Water Dragon
She chuckled, nodding. “An hour is doable,” she said.
He was about to kiss her, the rest of the room completely forgotten—including her arm still around Ewan’s waist—when King Morton cleared his throat and got them to look at him. Ewan stepped out of her hold on him, mildly self-conscious, which made both her and Malcolm smirk, though their attention was on the king.
“We will need to speak to the people,” he said to Malcolm. “They saw what happened with Leon. We must nip any rumors in the bud and let them know that the kingdom is safe.”
Malcolm nodded.
“Send a herald,” he said. “Send several into the streets of the citadel. Let them make the declaration.”
“Yes,” the king agreed. “Good.”
“And go revive yourselves,” Malcolm said to those gathered. “For in one hour, we shall meet in the great hall, and you will form the bonding circle. We ask that you be our witnesses as we bind ourselves to each other.”
There were immediate noises of agreement from those gathered, along with sincere well-wishes and a few embraces. Iona hugged Maize tightly, grateful for all that she had done.
“I wish I had sensed something earlier,” Maize said, but Iona shook her head.
There was no blame. Only the one directed at those responsible. The nameless and faceless.
“One hour,” they all agreed as they took their leave.
“We should speak to Lady Shannon,” Iona said to Malcolm. “She knows who’s behind this.”
“She won’t speak,” Malcolm shook his head. “She’s frightened.”
“Frightened?”
“Yes,” he said. “I believe so.”
Iona wanted to be annoyed by his constant propensity to see the best in people, but it only made her love him more. Perhaps he was right. She had been wrong about Ewan, perhaps she had been wrong about the lady as well.
“My lord.” A guard wearing the dark blue uniform of the citadel approached them, bowing to his future king. “Sir Patrick has escaped.”
Malcolm’s jaws started working as he chewed this over, then he sighed.
“Send out scouts. See if you can pick up a trail,” he ordered. The guard bowed again, disappearing down the hallway. “Damn,” Malcolm swore quietly. “If Lady Shannon is too frightened, I was hoping Sir Patrick might be greedy enough to tell us what we need to know.”
She reached up, brushing some dirt from his brow meaningfully.
“We can’t have a bonding ceremony with the dirt of battle all over us,” she said. “Now, can we?” she added, her smile telling him exactly where she thought they should aim the entirety of their focus next.
As she had wanted, it made him smile expectantly.
***
It would take too long to fill an entire tub with hot water, so she asked the maids to bring them a few pails. Then she undressed Malcolm, checking him for wounds as she went, tutting at the deep talon marks that were raked down his sides. They were healing fine, though, and didn’t concern her much. He wouldn’t be in pain, though he did hiss like a dragonling at her touching a tender spot on his back.
She brought her lips to it and felt him relax beneath her kisses.
She slipped her dress off, joining him in the empty tub, where she’d already placed one of the pails and a wooden scoop for the water. She wet him with the scoop, but when she reached for the soap and sponge, his hands stopped her. He gently grasped her wrists, asking, “What about you?”
Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed the entire pail and poured it over her, laughing at the face she pulled. She was about to fist her hand and hit him harder than she ever had, but in the following moment he had dropped the pail to let his hands trail down her. His touch effectively paused her punch, her eyes closing as he searched her for wounds and sore spots as thoroughly as she had him.
Then his mouth was on her neck, his hands sliding over the curve of her ass, pulling her to him. They seemed to have found a position they favored, or so she assumed as she moved to straddle him again.
Her mouth hovered by his, breaths mingling, his hands still on her ass.
It was amazing to her how the craving she felt for him was only growing stronger with each time she gave herself to him. She worried what it meant for their future. They might become recluses, shutting themselves away in the tallest tower of the castle, feeding off each other’s company because the rest of the world only left them feeling starved.
