The Touch of Salvation

37: Dragonrider

ADALIND

No one mentioned that I would experience a mating spree the way dragons did. Heat, yes, but this feeling of insatiability without the pain, no. I wanted him more and more and he gave me himself for hours at a time.

He'd service me on my desk, in the hall, in closets, washroom...

Fuck, even thinking about it now was sending heat straight to my fucking core. His eyes snap to me but I keep my eyes forward, focused on the large black cobblestone doors before me. I can hear Alastair's men from House Ares on the border, surrounding it as if this is their land.

I can still feel the burn of my mate's gaze on me as Lucian and Daario force the double doors open and take note of everyone within the Onyx palace. Stars and stardust fall from the skies, filling the room and the entire House. It's Nyx's presence I realize, his darkness, his night sky that has fallen so low we can literally touch tiny specs of stars.

On the throne, in the middle of the House of Nyght's rotunda, was Alastair. His dark skin almost blended in the darkness completely, and yet there was an air that surrounded him, an air of chaos and cruelty that couldn't be missed. We were complete opposites. My House was known for its empathetic ambition, and his was known for cruel aggression. My colors were gold, yellow, and orange - colors that reflected brightness. His were red, black, and shades of green - colors of bold impulsiveness.

I decide not to send Goliath undercover in lieu of a more...immediate action. Direct action.

Red eyes meet mine, eyes redder than Demise's, and the tattoo that inks his forehead and paints over his eyebrows shoots up at my presents. "Regent Adalyndra. I must admit, out of all the Houses, I never anticipated it would be you who would come for this land."

"Intelligence has never been your greatest strength, Alastair."

A sly grin slithers onto his face. Only one guard stands beside him with little armor on. Alastair's House, House Ares, was known for its ruthless warriors who were biologically bred to fight. They were the best. The most ruthless. Ten of my people would never beat one of theirs. That was why they had the smallest land with the smallest population in all of Arden.

It was as if the universe knew to control their breeding. Moradarthians, a term that refers to these warriors, suffered great rates of infertility, infanticide, and maternal mortality.

"So, she has teeth," Alastair responds, breezily. "I suppose it makes sense considering you're a mutt's whore."

Daario lashes out, sprinting from behind us to the Regent, only to be stopped and forced onto his back by Goliath. "Stop," Goliath hisses. "He's protected."

"I can kill him and his guard," Daario seethes.

"No, he is within something," my mate says, bringing the Bloodrider to his feet. Daario's brows raise in confusion and mine do the same, except my eyes don't leave the other Regent. Resignation falls onto his face, an expression that must mean Goliath is right. Alaistair didn't think I would bring Goliath with me, but Goliath was lycanthrope; he could see what we couldn't.

"What do you mean within something, Goliath?"

"There's a red barricade around him. It's translucent."

I roll my eyes at Alastair. "A ward, Alastair? You are the great ruler of Moradarthians and you have summoned a protective barricade?" I chuckle, taking a step forward. I can feel Goliath step with me. His presence is comforting to me. "From me," I continue, teasing him. "The Regent of House Dae, a female. Are you afraid of The Empathetic?"

I am toying with him and it's driving him crazy. His hands curl around the black marble of his chair and his brows turn downward in frustration. Everyone here knows that I am, knows my plan, knows that we need him to lower it before we can do anything.