Page 24 of Wings of Frost and Fury
“Are you about to tell me a secret, dragon? I love secrets. No, your friend can’t hear us through the barrier. He’s being punished with silence and impotence.”
Something about the dark way the enchantress says “punished” makes me shiver, and she doesn’t miss the movement.
She comes a little nearer, and my nostrils fill with the glorious scent of her. “Doyouneed to be punished, sweetheart? Have you done something wrong?”
I shudder again, a reaction I can’t control. “I have done many wrong things.”
The enchantress extends her hand, long slim fingers and tapered nails. She isn’t smiling.
Impulsively I bend my neck and lower my head, bringing my muzzle to her level. Her eyes are wide and dark as the tips of her fingers approach my nose.
“Tell me your sins, pet,” she whispers.
I could bite her hand off. I suspect the spell that protected her from Fortunix’s fire only defends her from magic, not from teeth and claws.
And yet I don’t try to harm her. I stand utterly still while my heart pounds inside my chest and the enchantress reaches slowly forward to touch me. I have never felt so huge and clumsy, nor have I ever experienced such a helpless, all-consuming need.
This woman makes me feel like I have alethia within my reach, at the tip of my tongue. There is security in her presence,like the comfortable familiarity I had with Mordessa, as if I’ve known her for longer than I’ve known myself. And yet I know I’m not safe. I can practically taste the danger of her magic. I feel the rush of her power in the very air I breathe.
She could kill me. But when her fingertips press lightly to the scales of my nose, there is no cruel blast of power, no violent spell, no choking darkness. The touch is gentle at first, then commanding as she gains confidence and presses her whole palm over the space between my nostrils.
“Good boy,” she murmurs. “What is your name?”
“Ashvelon.”
“I am Thelise. Tell me what you’ve done that makes you ache inside.”
“An herb on our island provides beautiful visions and sensations of pleasure,” I confess. “It is called alethia, and it is outlawed among dragons because of its addictive qualities. For a long time I was obsessed with it, and I put myself in danger to obtain it.”
“Did you endanger others?”
“Not exactly. But I avoided my responsibilities to the clan. I hid myself away so I could enjoy the forbidden effects.”
“The visions and the pleasure?”
“Yes.”
Her fingers trail across my scales, then circle the sensitive skin of my nostril. “What sort of pleasure?”
“The kind we are not supposed to feel outside of mating season.”
“You like sex,” she says, with a shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“In my culture, there is.”
“Sometimes a culture needs to change. That’s especially true when it puts us at painful odds with our true selves.”
“Painful odds,” I murmur. “Yes.”
“You feel guilty for using this herb. Is there anything else?”
I swallow and shift my wings. “I was supposed to bring a captive to Ouroskelle. And I dropped her in the ocean last night.”
Her hand stops moving. “Youdroppedher?”
My neck arches, withdrawing my muzzle from her reach. “She struggled and slipped out of my claws. I searched for hours, but she had vanished into the sea. Her death is my fault, and I should be punished.”
“I see.” She hesitates, and in the space of that moment I manage to remember my purpose here. I had all but forgotten it. Her presence fills my mind so completely, there’s scarcely room for anything else.
