Page 90 of Wickedly Ever After
Morga sniffed and glanced at Ida. “Oh, where are my manners. I should offer…you…tea…” She broke off into hysterical sobs again.
“No, thank you,” Ida said, squirming in her chair. If she knew where the kitchen in this place was, she’d brew a cup herself and add a shot of something strong to steady her nerves.
Morga choked. “He left on the day of the tournament. We had to make him go. He was angry. We could only hope he would do his duty. When he didn’t come back immediately, we thought nothing of it. We knew he had a lair ready. But we expected him to come and tell us how things had gone. After all, what reason would he have to stay? Yesterday he arrived—with her—telling us she was his mate and if the prince came for her, he’d roast the man and eat him. And she was holding onto him like she’d help him do it. I never heard anything so ridiculous in my life!”
Ridiculous didn’t begin to cover it. It sounded very much like she’d been right—the open-ended spell had seized on the pair and created the bond it should’ve made between the prince and the princess. Damn Hector and his dragon “prince.” “And…the princess?” she asked in a faint voice.
Morga snorted. “Don’t talk to me about that girl! She walked in here like shewasa dragon. Of course, Alistair told her to act like one and that’s all she’s done since she got here. I offered her our guestroom. She said no, she would sleep with her mate.Adair offered to take her home. She told him her place was here, with Alistair. And Gods, the noise they make—the roaring, the panting, the sucking, the moaning—it’s every bit as bad as Adair was with me.”
Hector turned almost as red as his blood orchids. “Don’t worry, Morga, Ida and I will fix this. I’m sure Alistair and the princess will separate, and soon.”
“Good,” Morga said. “Because if they don’t, I’m going to bite that girl, and sharp, right on her round little bottom. Steal my son from me, my grand-eggs—”
“I’d better see Adair,” Hector said, rising.
Ida rose too. “I’ll go talk to the princess.”
Hector caught her arm. “Ida—”
She touched his hand, patted it. “I know, I know! But we’ll get nowhere until we talk with the couple. The love magic is my specialty—let me find out what happened.”
He sighed. “Very well, but, Ida—”
“Yes?”
“Dragons are possessive of their mates. He may protect her if he sees you as a threat.”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said, smiling grimly. She raised the fold of her sweater, showing him the handle of her wand.
“All the same,” he said. “Be careful. Alistair’s room is just through there. You’ll find it by the smoke leaking under the door.”
***
Ida had never set foot in a dragon cave before today, but she soon appreciated this particular cave was a palace. She wandered through the largest of the galleries, casting curious glances at thestrangest folk art she’d ever seen. Once out of the gallery, she passed a smaller cavern with couches surrounding a wall of fire, clearly designed as a family lounge, and a smaller room lit by the afternoon sunlight streaming through a wall of sheet crystal. The light spilled over rows and rows of stone and iron plant benches like the ones in Hector’s greenhouses, filled with rare orchids. But these were Dragon Hoards. Look, don’t touch.
When she got to the back of the cave, however, things changed.
Here, the halls were smaller, less adorned. The walls were scorched black, and the air carried a distinct odor. She wrinkled her nose. Apparently young dragons, like young men, exuded a rather peculiar aroma—musky, strong, pungent, and mixed with another odor. Smoke.
She crept closer to a faint line of red cracking the blackness of one wall with sudden shattering light.
A hot, roaring sound echoed in the hallway. “They’re both here?”
“Yes.” A woman spoke, her voice soft and fearful. “You know they’re going to try to separate us.”
A deep, masculine growl. “I won’t let them take you from me.”
“And I won’t leave you, not if they drag me away—but, Alistair, they’re Cardinal Witches. We can’t fight them and expect to win.”
“Hector won’t fight me. He’s a reasonable man, for a witch, and he’s my godfather besides. I don’t know the woman, though.”
“Far worse than Hector, believe me,” Amber said. “She’s rude, condescending, and arrogant. But if she hadn’t chosen me, I’d never have met you.”
A pleasurable growl, the sound of lips coming together. Gentle sucking sounds followed and Alistair moaned. “I’m never going to finish this sculpture if you keep distracting me.”
“Maybe Iwantto distract you.”
Ida coughed loudly and pushed the door open.
