Page 99 of Wings of Frost and Fury
When the storms rage over the sea.
There’s no mystical rush of energy, no exchange of bones, no binding spellwork. The ceremony is symbolic. And yet I feel changed by it, as if my relationship to Ashvelon is enriched by its significance. As if there is a special kind of magic in unifying our hearts publicly, before all these witnesses.
We watch the others complete their ceremonies, and then I clap with the other humans while Ashvelon stamps his feet with the dragons. The hatchings prance excitedly, roll in the grass, and cheer loudly, feeding off the energy of the adults, excited for no other reason than the communal gladness of the event. And perhaps that’s the whole point, after all—a sharing of mutual joy.
By the time all the life-mates have been announced and bound, the hatchlings are losing their patience, eager to wander farther afield, ready to eat the feast that has been laid out in a nearby meadow. As a result, the naming ceremony is a hasty affair, with dragon fathers holding up their hatchlings briefly forthe clan and then dunking them in one of the sacred pools while the mothers call out their little ones’ names.
A few of the dragons seem perturbed by the lack of decorum, particularly Kyreagan, who likes to have things done properly. But Serylla can’t help laughing over the whole thing, so eventually he relaxes and relents to the overturning of his expectations.
Ashvelon and I have no hatchlings to name, but we thoroughly enjoy watching the antics of the offspring as their parents attempt to wrangle them. Still, I catch a hint of something wistful in his laughter, a faint sadness in the shine of his eyes.
Immediately after the naming ceremony, the families scatter to eat, play, and rejoice. Several of the women pick up instruments and begin to play a composition of Serylla’s—a blithe, jaunty tune. It’s the kind of melody that makes me want to dance. And I will dance, soon—but first, I have a surprise for my life-mate.
“Walk with me, pet,” I tell Ashvelon.
“I thought we were equals,” he rumbles, but I can hear the humor in his tone.
“I’m not going to stop calling you pet.”
“Good.” He bumps me lightly with the edge of his wing.
We walk together, away from the hot spring, across a meadow and up a slope, to a place where the land crests sharply before descending to the sea. From this spot, the view of the sparkling ocean is mesmerizing, and the breeze is like the breath of a benevolent spirit. Ashvelon lifts his wings and stretches his neck, half-closing his eyes, relishing the sensation.
“I’ve been keeping a secret from you,” I tell him. “I know you were disappointed when you bred me during mating season and it didn’t last.”
He chuffs an uneasy breath. “Your wellbeing was, and is, my highest priority.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” I pat his neck. “But I see the way you look at the hatchlings. You think they’re adorable, and you want to have a few of them. Problem is, if we wait twenty-five more years, I might not be fertile anymore.”
“You are the only happiness I need.”
“Fuck, you big gray loaf—it’s all right to admit what you want. It’s the same thing I want.”
His horned head swerves to look at me. “You do?”
“Of course. Maybe not immediately, mind you, but sometime in the next few years.”
His wings slacken, drooping as his newly awakened hope fades. “But I won’t be fertile then.”
“Ah, but I think you will.” I smirk. “Remember the samples I got from the big voratrice Varex killed? That creature had high propagation potential, and the material I extracted is the perfect activation ingredient for a fertility spell. Which means I could conceivably—no pun intended, darling—make you or any other dragon fertile, whenever I want. Or whenever you want. You understand what I’m saying, yes?”
Ashvelon’s breathing has quickened, and his wings arch sharply. “You’re saying I haven’t missed my chance? That I could breed you? That you could carry my eggs, and we could have hatchlings—”
“Settle down, handsome.” I rub his nose, laughing. “Not yet. But yes—eventually I should be able to provide fertility services to anyone who wants them.”
“You fucking genius!” He practically bellows the words. “You brilliant, beautiful woman, you exquisite dream—”
I’m laughing, hugging his muzzle, and suddenly he changes shape in my arms, taking on human form, naked and lithe and muscled. He grabs me off my feet and whirls me around, kissing my face all over while I laugh.
“I know you’re not ready now,” he says. “But the possibility of it, when the time is right—it’s all I could ever dream of.”
“This spell could make dreams come true for others, too.” I hold his face between my hands and kiss his mouth fervently. “But let’s keep it a secret until I’ve had a chance to work out all the details.”
“Of course.”
I rear back and narrow my eyes at him. “Why do I feel like you just lied to me and you’re planning to telleveryoneat the earliest opportunity?”
He grins sheepishly. “Maybe I’m bad at secrets, too.”
