Page 74 of Wings of Frost and Fury
I count to ten, and then it continues.
Suddenly her body goes rigid and her eyes fly wide open. She startles up to a sitting position, gasping frantically, “Something is happening. The storm… it’s changing, it’s…”
My head whips toward the cave entrance.
She’s right. The darkness of the storm has lightened, and the rain is slacking. Within seconds the clouds dissipate and sunshine floods the air outside, glittering through the raindrops, casting colorful flecks of light into the cave.
Thelise takes a deep breath, one hand pressed to her chest.
“My heart isn’t beating so fast anymore,” she says. “And the nausea is gone. Oh my god… I got so used to living with it that I didn’t remember how good it feels tonotbe sick to my stomach!”
“Food!” I exclaim. “You need food. We have a little food left—I’ll get you more food. Water? You should have wine? You want wine, yes?”
She’s laughing, and it’s still weak, but there’s life in it. “Yes, pet, I would like some wine.”
“Thank the Bone-Builder.” My voice cracks, and I feel such relief that I want to collapse and weep. But my woman needssustenance, so I pull myself together and bring her the remaining cheese and a bottle of wine.
She devours the food and takes a few sips of wine, but even that small effort wearies her, and she has to lie down again. She directs me to bring her a silver flask from her bag, one she attempted to drink from during the storm. This one doesn’t contain liquor, but a strength tonic she brought along when I first carried her to Ouroskelle. While the Mordvorren was in force, the tonic had little effect, but now that the storm has passed, the contents of that flask should help her.
I could leave the cave to hunt, but I refuse to be parted from her until I’m sure she’s out of danger. Finding out how my clan fared during the storm, learning the results of the mating heat, finding more food—all of it can wait.
As the hours pass, Thelise improves noticeably. She starts complaining about how “gross” she feels, and she summons enough strength to wash up with some of the rainwater I collected. She shaves her legs and underarms, expressing satisfaction once those areas are smooth again. She applies copious amounts of scented lotion to her dry skin as well.
“There’s not enough water to properly wash my hair,” she says. “I’m tempted to try the spell I usually perform on it.”
“No,” I growl. “You are too weak.”
She makes a rebellious little pout. “I feel much better. My energy is rising rapidly.”
“Nevertheless.”
“You don’t give me commands, pet.”
“When you’ve been so ill you nearly died, yes the fuck I do.”
Her eyes widen, and then she delivers a seductive grin that nearly turns my very bones watery. I could melt onto the stone, right in front of her. I can feel myself beginning to yield, but I decide to try one more thing.
I transform from my dragon shape to my human one and approach her as a man, cupping her face between my palms. Looking deep into her eyes, I stroke my thumbs along her cheekbones.
“Please,” I say quietly. “Please don’t perform any unnecessary magic until you have fully recovered. Please, my love.”
Thelise curls her slender fingers over mine. “For you, I will wait one more day. After that, Iwilluse magic to clean my hair. Or you’ll have to take me to a pond or a lake or something. I’d prefer the magic, though. So much easier. Just a quick spell, and you have clean, sleek, detangled hair—or hair of any texture and color you desire. Isn’t magic wonderful?”
“Indeed it is.” I lower my lips to the softness of her mouth.
I believe she and I both have a similar idea of how the next hour could be spent, but we’ve barely begun kissing when a wild sound rips across the sky of Ouroskelle. I break the kiss, my heartbeat jumping into a new, panicked rhythm.
I recognize Kyreagan’s voice. He is roaring like his wings are being torn off.
I glance at Thelise, conflicted.
She nods, understanding and determination in her brown eyes. “Something terrible has happened. You have to go, and I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not strong enough,” I object.
“I’m recovering, pet. I’m well enough to hold onto you. And trust me, whatever is making your prince scream like that can’t mean anything good for the clan. I might be able to help.”
17
