Page 119 of Dragon Fight

“I won’t divorce you. Iwon’t, not unless it's to replace that bond with something that encapsulates all of us. You are mine.” I said that with all the ferocity of a queen dragon, while Glimmer stared at her mates as they came to cluster by her window. “You are mine.”

“Gods help us,” Brom muttered, scooping me up and holding me in his arms, my eyes only able to really close when I felt the rest of them wrap their arms around me. I’d do a lot for my country, for Draven, but I wouldn’t do that.

68

“This is how it should always have been,” Draven said later that night.

We’d had dinner with him in the royal dining room as his guests, his wing clustered close around him after we’d helped him depose his corrupt mother. Her crimes and his father’s weakness had been made clear to all and sundry, the information surely percolating out through the populace by the minute. But while we had been dressed in our formal uniforms, each one provided and inspected by Soren, it was only after that when we were truly able to be ourselves. My dragon had picked at her bowl of meat, her appetite still weak before she turned to me.

I must be with my mates tonight, she told me.As you must be with yours. They will keep me safe.

Are you sure? We can find a room at the palace or return to the ward. Glimmer, you don’t have to—

I know, but this is what I need to do.

And with that she jumped down from her chair and sauntered off, every inch the queen. But when I turned back to the table, my men watched me, hands wrapped tight around their utensils, lest they reached for me. I nodded my head, eyes sliding to the many footmen standing to attention around the perimeter of the room. Draven might assure us that we could continue our unconventional relationship, but the space we would be able to create for it would be such a small one.

One which my love for four other men would have to be stuffed into.

When the last dish was cleared away and we lingered at the table over port, Draven got to his feet, that cat-like smile of his completely different now. Lighter somehow, despite the death of his parents, as if a burden had been shucked off.

“Let me show you to your rooms,” he said, eyebrow raising, then indicated we should follow him.

We walked up stairs, past paintings in gilt frame and fragile little tables holding up expensive objet d’art and relics of the past. All of his family history was held here, or all that they had stolen from Gloriana before she was deposed. And it turned out to be fitting that I should think of her, as I found out when Draven pushed open two massive doors to a huge room, the moonlight pooling in through the windows.

“These used to be Gloriana’s chambers,” he said. “I took them when I was an adult. I had… ideas even then.”

He looked at me over his shoulder, and my eyes followed his hands as they went to the neck of his jacket. I could see that Brom’s gaze was transfixed, too, as Draven pulled open one toggle then another, baring himself to us. He took away all of the signs and insignias of being a rider, a prince and now king-to-be, stripping them off and then dropping them to the floor beside him. The symbolism was obvious. He was tossing all of that aside in this moment and replacing it with the simplicity of being just himself.

Just Draven.

Gods, how I wanted that.

My hands formed fists to stop myself from reaching for him, from throwing myself into his arms and letting him… I treasured that we were the five people he felt he could share himself with, but this could not last. As soon as the sun rose up, he’d be forced to put it all back on again, then shoulder the responsibilities of the day.

Hoping I’d join him in putting my shoulder to the wheel.

“Just give me this,” he asked, his cocky smile faltering and something real surfacing. “Just this moment.”

The illusion we could have it all, that we’d won and our enemies had lost and all we had to do was walk forward into our glorious future, happy and fulfilled.

I could be forgivenfor going along with that for just this one night. We’d all wanted it so much, to be free of Raina, the king, and all the bullshit that came with it. To have the highest authority in the land endorse what we had together. But as I smoothed my hand over Draven’s chest, the whole wing watching me, it hurt.

It hurt that his skin felt like satin under my palms. It hurt when his hand slapped over mine, not willing to let me to discover him, not when his own needs burned just as bright. It hurt when he pulled me close and held me there, staring down at me like I was the most precious thing in the world, right before he kissed me. The knife in my heart twisted harder when he finally pulled away and then offered me to Brom.

He acted like he had a right to. He might say that we could put everything else aside for tonight, but I don’t think Draven knew how to be anything other than a prince. He leaned me back, presenting my lips to Brom’s to kiss, making me the bond between them that brought them closer. And Brom came forward, tracing his fingers over my cheeks and down my throat, as if memorising every inch of me.

Right before I was taken away.

I felt the pain in my husband as he kissed me. It felt like one of farewell, not of victory and I pulled free of Draven, not willing to let Brom give me up. I clawed at him, kissing him harder and harder, my fingers gripping handfuls of his hair, grabbing at his shoulders until he pulled away, pressing his forehead to mine and staring into my eyes.

“Pippin, it’s alright.”

“It’s not. Brom, I–”

“I’m yours always, remember?” He slid my hand into his jacket, placing it over his heart. “This beats for you. I’ll love you until it stops and then some more.”

I wanted to babble out something in return. The emotion swelling inside me was like a deadly tide, ready to pull me under. I needed him, that was what shrieked the loudest, and my fingers scraped across him as if I could find purchase and never let him go.

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