A Ballad of the Sun and the Moon

Chapter 6

She awoke to a loud rapping on her door. The lantern had run out of oil hours ago and the room was rather dark. Sunniva lurched up at the sound, terrified that someone might let themselves in as a plume of smoke. She leaped from the bed and was at the window in three stretched paces ripping the curtains open letting as much light in as possible. She snatched a blanket from atop the bed and wrapped it around herself.

The knock came again.

"I'm coming!" screeched Sunniva.

The bolt stuck at first so Sunniva gave it a yank bending the metal slightly. When she opened the door she was greeted with the stern face of an older woman, elegant, clearly a lady's maid.

"I'm here to get you dressed and down to the breakfast table," the maid informed Sunniva.

"I think I can dress myself and find the way."

"Oh? How do you plan to tighten a corset all on your own?"

"Well, I want to wear something a little more plain so that..."

"This is the home of the marquess," interrupted the maid. "There is nothing plain around here."

She was certainly not overstating it. Even the maid was adorned with fine gems. From her ears hung hoops of silver studded with little diamonds and the cuff of her sleeves were kept closed with silver white pearls.

"Besides, Alpha's orders."

"That I wear a nice dress?"

The maid pursed her lips as if she'd remembered something. She kept her talk to a minimum limiting it to curt commands as she assisted Sunniva, helping her into a white muslin dress with a canary yellow overlay. The cut was too tight at the shoulders and the corset delved painfully into her mid. She fantasized about Turning, watching the threads of fabric burn away as she exacted her freedom.

Once done the maid bid Sunniva to follow, escorting her to breakfast with the guards maintaining an inconspicuous distance as they trailed behind them.

Upon entry to the dining hall Sunniva was met with the chipper eyes of the Langford brothers.

"Good morning," bade Kimber.

Sunniva's face remained passive, a night's restless sleep having done little to alleviate her unease.

"Where is Joan?" she asked.

"Oh she'll take a breakfast tray in bed I imagine," explained Rhys. "She isn't much for mornings." A yawn sprouted from his own lips before taking a cautious sip of steaming black coffee.

Something resembling a frown lurked behind Kimber's slack lips. He stood and pulled back the chair next to his and motioned Sunniva to be seated, which she took tentatively.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, returning to his own chair.

"Yes, thank you. And yourself?"

"Quite well indeed," fibbed Kimber.

He had hardly slept. When he flew he usually covered Darkfrith's entire territory, but last night he'd stayed in a small radius above Chasen knowing that with his presence the other men would not dare draw near. He even took the room next to Sunniva's, paranoid of any unwelcomed visitor. And if that wasn't enough to keep him from sleep, her addictive aura called to him, seductive and sensual with promises of what was to come. Once even he crawled from his bed considering going to her, roused by the idea of her legs wrapped around him and her breasts smothered beneath the weight of his chest. Fortunately, the sun came up and he could no longer feel the maddening pull allowing him the shortest lick of sleep. At the time it hadn't seemed like a ludicrous idea at all.

"I'm sorry I'm late," came Joan's voice as she waltzed into the room. She lacked a wig and her face was bare though her lips were still a glorious, natural hue of red. Her golden hair was tied back by a simple green ribbon like a young girl trotting off to school.

"Ah. So it won't be a tray after all?" jabbed Rhys.

"Ha. Ha. Apologies," was all she offered while taking a seat.

Kimber surveyed his sister carefully with eyes that seemed to miss nothing. "Do you think Father would approve?" he asked.

Joan gave him a look of warning. "As with Audrey, Father has only wished for me the best of happiness," she replied with proudly raised eyebrows.

A glimmer of envy or disapproval or maybe both played shadows on the brothers' faces. Kimber turned to a large bowl before him filled with soft-boiled eggs and scooped one into a small cup. He smacked the top a few times with a little ivory spoon and carefully peeled off the bits of broken shell clinging to the pliant membrane.

Rhys mumbled something under his breath.

Sunniva didn't know the context nor the background of the exchange but she could smell the hint of an unfamiliar male lurking beneath a pungent lavender oil.

She served herself a healthy pile of breakfast sausages, well-cooked and greasy, and placed a single roll with a pad of butter and dollop of raspberry marmalade on her plate for good measure. The food went down easier this time what with every bit being well cooked and the fact that she was terribly hungry. She pulled her shoulders forward and then back, aggravated by the tight neckline of her dress.

"Is your clothing not to your liking?" asked Kimber, scooping out a bit of goopy egg yolk seasoned with a dash of salt.

A mantel of scales would be preferable, Sunniva thought, instead of woven threads, but before she could speak, Joan answered for her.

"Kimber dear, you can't expect a woman to feel comfortable in another's clothing. It would be silly for us to insist she wear our baby sister's old dresses forever. Lia was always such a string bean," she said turning to Sunniva. "We should send for the Lane girl, the seemstress' daughter. You know the one with the pale hair?" directing her question at Kimber.

"Zoe," supplemented Rhys, still looking at his plate. "Zoe Lane." His eyes brightened as he said her name. He turned to address his brother. "I could send word if you like. I'm going to town anyways."

Kimber gave him an obliging nod.

"Fine, then," Joan said with indifference. "Make sure she comes tomorrow afternoon at the latest for measurements." She looked back at Sunniva. "I'm sure she'll have something finished by the end of the week."

The end of the week. The words stung. Sunniva thought of her agreement with Kimber and wondered if he'd planned to hold to it.

After breakfast Kimber took Sunniva for a stroll in the gardens explaining some of the landscaping history of the grounds. Her quiet demeanor came as little surprise.

"This is one of the newest additions to the garden," he explained as they entered an area marked by a large archway covered in vines.

"My mother had it constructed two years ago. It's been just this year that the flowers have begun to bloom," he said, cupping one of the closed buds in his hand like a tamed snake. "It's rather mundane by day, but at night...ah, at night is when it's meant to be seen. I had hoped to show you. Tonight if possible."

Sunniva avoided his hopeful gaze feeling the pressure mounting like steam. She feigned interest in a springy tendril of a vine seeking something to climb only to be left dangling in the air.

Past the pergola were boxes spilling with flowers; lillies, brugmasia, phlox, tuberose and evening stock, all mingled together hiding their beauty from the sun, waiting for starlight. Kimber sat down on a secluded bench nestled between two of the beds.

"I have something for you," Kimber said. He gestured to a spot next to him on the bench, a piece of furniture contrived for timid lovers looking for an excuse to sit close.

Sunniva hesitated suspicious of what he wished to give her. Her body wanted to be close to him, her blood already rising red in her cheeks. He was so beautiful sitting there in the pre-noon sun, simply irresistible. Despite herself, she sat down next to him, their knees touching, and felt as her wits seemed to boil away.

"I know this must be a difficult time for you, but I wish to do everything I can for your comfort. I have never really known your father, nor have first hand knowledge of his history so I did a bit of digging."

Sunniva met his eyes for the first time that day.

"Apparently he had thieved for years in London, using his Gifts and risking exposure. When he was approached for his behavior he threatened to reveal us. Thank goodness for the Others love of alcohol. He was a danger to the tribe and had to be contained. Our secrecy has sadly been tantamount to our survival. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said, "I do understand. Humans tend to destroy that which they fear. A sad but awful truth."

Kimber put his hand over hers. The snap of connection arose as their skin touched, like it did every time.

"I'm glad that is clear."

His words were kind and soft, but underneath them was a warning. It was the first time he'd revealed something of their rules, unsurprising of course that his kind expected a degree of responsibility from their own. She appreciated it, growing weary of the uncertainty.

She turned her hand around in his so their palms were touching. Kimber laced his fingers through hers and she felt that persisting trepidation begin to melt away.

"Anyway, he was returned to the shire and that's history."

Perhaps Sunniva had it all wrong. Her father had just been a criminal and was brought rightly to justice. She may not know the tribe's laws or all their ways, but she certainly understood that sacredness of secrecy. There weren't only dragons in this world. She'd met all manner of magical creatures whose survival depended on remaining hidden. Among them the punishments for recklessly revealing yourself to humans were often severe.

"I want you to know this reflects nothing on you," explained Kimber. "We would never punish or judge someone for the sins of their father."

It was as if he could predict every concern and offer her comfort. He was so sincere and attentive, giving her something she never knew she wanted, never knew she needed.

"Thank you Kimber, for telling me that." She put her free hand to his face, his skin rough yet inviting. As she pulled it away he covered it with his own, pressing it firmly to his cheek.

"There is something else I wish to give you."

He released both her hands and reached into the inner pocket of his coat pulling out a small, tear drop diamond hanging from a fine silver chain.

"We consider children here the purest of blessings. Every single infant receives one of these as a gift from my family when they are born," he explained handing the delicate bauble to her.

"It's meant to hang from a bassinet or a cradle. A trifle really, smaller than you deserve, but you should have it all the same."

Sunniva felt a deluge of warmth, a sense of belonging wrapping around her like an afternoon tide. Vulnerable yet safe. Apart, but one.

"Kimber, it's lovely," she told him, small beads of moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. "I don't really know what to say."

"You don't need to say any thing," he replied softly. It was the first of many stones he vowed to gift his bride, ones befitting a true dragoness.

Since Tamlane Williams had come forth, Kimber harbored a new swelling of aggression towards the man who was his mate's father. Had that runner not been so selfish, had he even a semblance of responsibility, Kimber - heir to the tribe - would not be twenty six and still unwed. He would not have hungered and thirsted for the woman who had been betrothed to him since her Gifts emerged - whatever they may be. His mate might have been happily pregnant now with their third or fourth or even fifth child, her swollen belly his to caress.

He swallowed his hostility thinking of a way to make her father's wrong doing clear.

"Your well-being is my responsibility and my highest priority, Niva. We take care of our kind. We do not leave our infants to the cruelty of the world. We do not abandon our kin to their fate. You should have been born here, among your people. Cared for. Cherished. Raised to know what it means to be drákon. You are a part of the tribe as much as any of us."

Sunniva ate up his beautiful words of belonging and sank towards him.

He wrapped his arms around her pulling her close to his chest and nuzzled the crown of her head, her hair a tickling delight.

She looked up into his eyes, willing him to kiss her until she felt the relief of his lips. His restraint was clear, the tension in his muscles holding his body back.

"You make me feel like I'm losing control," he whispered, his lips brushing her nose, her cheekbones, her jaw - little enticements that chipped away at her reluctance. "I want you. Terribly," he confessed. "More than I've ever wanted someone before." Despite his words his kisses remained measured and deliberate.

She closed her eyes enjoying his grazing lips on her skin. "I would be lying if...if I said the feeling wasn't mutual." Her words were breathy and hitched. She kept her eyes open, holding the light around her determined to enjoy the moment. She gripped the little silver chain now threaded throughout her fingers, using it as an anchor. Even it began to feel like a slice of heaven.

Her hands disobeyed her creeping up the muscled curves of his arms reaching high to grip his nape.

He mired in the pleasurable solitude of her curious hands and the scrape of warm metal on his skin. In turn he reached for her head, cupping her face to deepen the kiss.

So bedeviled with each other they heard the soft crushing of grass later than they would have. Kimber let out a deep, guttural sound resembling a growl at the disturbance as the intruder rounded the curve of the augustine path. He was finely dressed, like that of an aristocrat, a wig of sausage curls and a bleached cravat.

Kimber stood putting himself between him and Sunniva.

"I thought I'd find you here," the man said. He leaned to the side scouring Sunniva with scrutiny.

She stood as well moving out from behind Kimber looking directly into the perusing eyes. They were deep blue, as secretive and treacherous as the deepest of oceans.

The man proffered a hand decorated with gems of scarlet and jade. "Claude Grady, member of the council." His introduction was seeping with a boastful authority.

The Earl shifted minutely on his feet. Grady retracted his hand at once.

"To what do I owe this disturbance," asked Kimber caustically, his eyes narrowing.

"The council is convening as we speak." He flicked his eyes to Sunniva and back to the Earl.

Sunniva saw Kimber's dominance right then, with merely a look forcing the man's eyes to lower until they saw little but lush lawn.

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear."

"Nevertheless my Lord, the men have gathered," the haughtiness now absent, "and your presence is required."

****

He found them in their splendid chamber, still standing and holding glasses of port they'd served themselves from the sideboard. A bunch of grand dragons shining with gems and gold, the candlelight dancing jigs across their crystal goblets. They were stout and proud, all eleven of them dusted in powder and pungent perfume.

Their chatter subsided upon Kimber's entry. He was glad he had sent Sunniva with Joan to his twin sister's home for tea; he wasn't sure how well she could truly hear and the councilmen had been rather loud.

One by one they found their seats, four to a table and a scribe in the corner. As acting Alpha Kimber took his place in the appropriate chair apart from the others. It was his grandfather's design. This wasn't King Arthur and the round table where everyone had their say. There was one Alpha, the strongest and most cunning of all, and that chair reinstated that message.

John Chapman began. "My Lord, the subject of the runner you recently apprehended is in need of discussion. Rumors abound throughout the shire-"

"And what rumors might those be?" Kimber said dangerous and deliberate.

The men looked at each other wondering which of them daring enough to share. It was his brother who spoke. Rhys was not only willing to speak his mind, but did so with a haughtiness that only close family could get away with.

"That you mean to take the halfling stray as a wife." He sat slack in his chair hardly concerned with his nonchalance.

If it had been any other man to disrespect Sunniva he'd have taken him by throat and held him to the floor till he submitted. He had more patience for his brother and with those few words now knew accurately what all the other men were thinking.

"Ah, for once there is truth to the gossip that seems to spread like wildfire."

Claude Grady, now brazened with courage spoke up. "You of all should know that matches must be approved by the Alpha before-"

"I am well aware," interrupted Kim seething. "And may I remind you that I am Alpha while my father is away."

"You are acting Alpha," Grady corrected, "temporarily until the marquess' return. Long term issues are not for you to rule on. As heir to the tribe it is paramount that your mate be an Alpha and seeing as the Williams girl is hardly thus, the subject of your bride remains unresolved."

Kimber looked over to Claude Grady his chest puffed out with consequence, lecturing him about his responsibilities of taking a mate. He was unmarried, despite being a few years older. The thought of any man keeping him from Sunniva filled him with a ferocity he had never known. But Grady. Ah Grady, his own personal nemesis. Kimber imagined in lucid clarity ripping the man's throat out. The metallic scent of blood. The messy display of tissue and severed spine paired with a perfectly white cravat growing crimson. The leaking sound of his death seeping out onto the cream and gold rug.

But the pompous ass was right. It was Kimber's responsibility to take an appropriate mate. He wasn't at liberty to marry for love, or affection, or even property and riches like the Other's did. A drákon's currency was power and might and their beloved Gifts and Kim needed a mate with all three.

"She can Turn." Kimber chastised himself for saying it, revealing what he alone knew to be true. But they needed to know were they ever to accept her as suitable.

All the councilmen stilled. Even Rhys was taken aback.

"She can Turn?" came a voice from the back, incredulous.

"She hardly even radiates an ounce of power," chimed in another.

"Have you any proof? Any evidence?" asked Grady.

He didn't. Kimber wasn't sure how to explain what he knew, how that dragon inside her reached up to him every time they touched.

He sighed, feeling his exhaustion begin to creep in. "Not yet. Tonight though, you will have your precious evidence and I will have my mate."


****

They took tea in the parlor.

It was certainly nice, though not nearly as fine as the many parlors in Chasen manor. The carpet, upholstery, and curtains were a deep red with golden floral contrasted by innocent cream walls reaching up to a high ceiling capped by cornice. Three Queen Anne chairs with cabriole legs bore their burden in perfect, triangular harmony around a Chippendale table. The tea cups were rimmed in gold and hand painted with ferns reflecting the British pteridomania of the time.

With the sweet memory of darling Kimber still fresh, Sunniva resolved herself to play the role of a lady. Though tired she felt revived and confident, like this place could become her home. She thought it wise to refrain from antagonizing Joan and make a good impression on Kim's twin sister Audrey, whose home she was now sitting in.

It was a newly built house classically designed and filled with a number of imported fineries. A home of the upper-middle class, it was ardently clear that a close relative of means was involved in the furnishings and décor.

It was still horribly hot, the summer refusing to relent. The ladies kept the windows open and the curtains drawn.

Despite Audrey's massive belly and the sweltering heat, she was still every bit an aristocrat as the other Langford siblings. If she was bothered it certainly didn't show.

"One lump or two?" she asked, her hand hovering over the sugar bowl.

"One, thank you."

Sunniva took the cup and saucer and placed it on the table. It would be polite to wait till the others had their tea before taking a sip. Sunniva wouldn't have minded waiting an eternity, as she despised tea, a fact she wouldn't make known. Not today. "Your house is lovely," she added.

"That's kind of you to say," replied Audrey passing a tea with cream to her sister Joan. "I've thought of redecorating. These colors are going out of style. Or so I'm told," she said looking at Joan.

"Pastels, dear sister, are all the rage now in London," stated Joan proudly. She was met with a passive smile.

Audrey took the first sip, followed by Joan and finally Sunniva.

"When are you due?" she asked, careful not to spill her tea.

"Another month."

Sunniva's eyes stretched to her scalp. The gown did little to hide the mother-to-be's monstrous belly and she still had a month to go.

"I suspect it's twins," Audrey explained, noticing Niva's surprise. "They run strong among our kind."

"Oh? I wasn't aware."

"Of course you wouldn't be aware," came the snide comment from Joan.

"Joan, be a dear and fetch some fresh biscuits from Cook," Audrey said without taking her look from Sunniva. It was polite and nice, yet the hints of a command were there.

"I'm not really in the mood for something sweet."

"Fetch them all the same."

Audrey stared her younger sister down with icy eyes until she complied. Joan left the parlor in quick steps.

Audrey waited till the door had closed. She placed her cup and saucer down.

"Forgive my sister. She sometimes forgets her manners."

Audrey uncrossed her ankles and leaned back in her chair resting her arms lazily across her belly. "I think though, that some manners are perfectly appropriate to ignore." She slipped off her pumps and stretched her legs out across the floor.

"This heat is dreadful and pregnancy is horrid. There, I've said it."

Sunniva smiled and slipped her own shoes off, feeling at ease.

Audrey gave her an approving smile. "Might I ask you a question?"

"Certainly," replied Sunniva.

"Why is it that you keep your hair shorn?"

Sunniva reached up and grasped the wisps of hair tickling her neck.

"It makes travel safer."

"Ah. To look like a boy?"

Sunniva gave her nod.

It was partially true, however her illusions were easier with less hair. She wasn't actually transforming into the faces and bodies she wore, it was merely a trick of the light. If she had long locks she would constantly have to compensate for the movement.

"May I ask you a question?"

Audrey nodded.

"What is the council?"

Audrey considered her words carefully.

"Quite simply, it consists of the ruling members of the tribe."

"And Kimber is on it?"

"Generally yes. But with my father gone he is acting Alpha, so for the time being not technically a councilman."

"Alpha?"

"We use the title of marquess to simplify dealings with the Others, but it is the word Alpha that holds meaning among us. He is the strongest, most cunning and powerful. The most capable of leading."

"Like a king?"

"Somewhat. But not strictly inherited. My brother, though, has proven time after time that he is most worthy of the role once my father feels no longer capable."

Sunniva felt a swelling of pride. She'd caught the eye of the strongest of their kind, felt his hard body pressed against her.

Instincts were a terrible thing made all the more dreadful by the fact that Sunniva hardly understood her own. Her caution slithered away, all the worries and concerns about this place fading into a single sensual shadow. Kimber was all that was left. All that she wanted was him. The bright dragon preened at this, ready for him, ready to let him have her when the time came.

****

The night promised perfection for his plans. A cooler wind had moved through the shire mingling with the warmth radiating from the earth below. Kimber was certain of the updrafts and airstreams offering them a veritable dragon's playground.

He returned with Sunniva to that section of the garden, their last kiss still a persistent sensation on his lips. A gamey smirk took to his face at the thought of their bodies finally entwined as they were meant to.

Small clouds tore by overhead occasionally rendered asunder by swift scythes of scales and wings. Sunniva didn't look up keeping her eyes forward on the man leading her through trellises laced with night jasmine, the blooms splendidly aromatic. Kimber stopped in a large open clearing encircled by a hedge of laurel and faced Sunniva taking her hands in his. He bent to give her the sweetest of kisses and she rose to meet him.

"What did you wish to show me?" she asked, her voice hitching in anticipation as he drew away. She knew what he would do next, knew why he had brought her here, rendering the question redundant, but she asked anyway.

Alpha.

He smiled and she watched as his body faded into smoke and his clothes fell into a heap at her feet. He swirled around her once, touching her where he could in ethereal caresses, then drifted to the large, open space in the garden. To a simpleton it could have been an eerie mist settling on the dewy ground, a midnight fog that was the wey and wine to a place like Darkfrith, but it was drákon.

Sunniva could feel the potency of it all, the ancient magic that coursed through her and him and their kin above. Her eyes flashed for a moment bright and terrible as Kimber pulled himself into form.

She marveled at him, utterly spellbound. He was like the others in the skies above but not; like her but different.

A myriad of rugged, black scales adorned his back and underside; rough and armored instead of smooth and sleek. His talons looked to be as if formed from obsidian, razor sharp. Not a single color or shimmer on his body of shadow would betray him. He was darkness, the dreadful night.

It was hard to tell with his smoking coal eyes, but she knew he was looking, watching her, waiting for her reaction.

Enamored and transfixed, she reached out placing her hand upon him beginning at the crest of his neck slowly running her fingers through his dark mane. His scales were rough on her finger tips, sending a cool current through her burning body. She may have let out a moan or something deeper resembling a growl, she couldn't quite recall.

He was stunning, terrifying, downright bewitching. A dark to her light, smoke to her flame, chilled water to her fevered blood. She wanted more than anything to Turn and fly to the heavens with him.

Her touch felt like fire. As dragon, senses were heightened, sensory information made all the more potent by the fact that his mate was so near, grazing his lines, feeling deep within. Every scale she touched, every fiber that tugged at her fingertips sent a licking flame down Kimber's spine. The breath Sunniva tried so hard to control came as a purr to his ears. Kimber could even pick out the different notes of her scent; the one of spice just behind her ears, the sweet tang from her lips, the citrus notes of her hair, the rosy qualities of her wrists. He closed his eyes, focusing and filling his lungs even deeper. He even caught the inviting scent of arousal hidden between her thighs. For but a moment, he felt like an intruder, trespassing somewhere he had yet to be invited. He rationalized it. Their pairing was an inevitability he was sure of and that secret place between her legs his domain.

Her hand had reach his hips. He couldn't bare it any longer. He Turned to human not even bothering with smoke, tugged her roughly to him, and wrapped his lips over hers, covering her with a dominance Sunniva had never experienced before in a man. This time there was nothing soft about it, not even the slightest attempt at restraint. He meant to take her, out here in a garden filled with blooms under the open sky.

Alpha.

That fragment of Niva that was human was wary, but that horrible beast inside was consumed with thrill. It met him just as aggressively biting his lower lip, tasting what was hers. She couldn't control herself. She hadn't taken form in over a week and the dragon would no longer be contained. It didn't want to fly though, it wanted something else. She found herself shifting her weight, one leg moving of its own accord to the side, widening the space between her thighs. She stretched her arms around Kimber's neck, her muscles clenching him tightly towards her. Whether she was pulling herself up to meet him or him down to meet her could be considered a matter of perspective.

Kimber hardly needed encouragement. He grabbed her buttocks and lifted her, backing her up hard to the lip of a stone fountain. On impact he ground into her despite the layers of fabric between them unable to resist the compulsion to thrust. Her incisive fingers suddenly dug into his backside sending him and his member towards her again.

He pushed her offending skirts just enough up her legs to get a proper reach between her thighs, the source of the beckoning scent of her arousal demanding attention. A curious thumb slid over her moist curls. Again, this time more exploratory parting her warm folds.

He was aware of his need for urgency, wanting her mated and his, but he couldn't help but slip a finger in. She was all shivers and pliancy, her sheath tight and begging as he slid in and out. A deep, sharp moan escaped her lips warning him of her luscious, hot readiness and he could bare it no longer.

He grasped himself guiding the head to her entrance-

- and stopped. He need only thrust, a slight jerk of his hips and they would be one.

He'd never felt this kind of power surge through a drákon female despite having met them all - quite a few even intimately. He knew it in his bones that she could Turn, that she was a true dragon. He believed it as he believed the sun would rise tomorrow morning and set the subsequent evening.

But what if...

He needed the support of the ruling men of the tribe if he were to continue his family's peaceful reign. There was something he needed to know. Something he needed confirmed before making her his mate, a fact the bloody council had insisted upon.

He required proof of his mate's strength.

"There is something I need to ask you," he whispered, his body frozen before her.

"Yes?" she squeezed out.

"Can you Turn?"

"What?"

She was dragged out of her delirium, coming back to herself piece by piece.

He pulled his head up from the crook of her neck and looked down at her.

"I need to know if...if you can Turn."

"Why would you ask that?"

She lowered her legs.

"It's just something I need to know."

His eyes were painfully hopeful, his mouth far too intent, his arousal too prominent.

She wasn't quite sure how to classify what she was feeling about it all. About Kimber, about Darkfrith. Unease, trepidation, distrust? Awe, fascination, belonging? Certainly lust. Suspicious, consuming lust. It coiled like a snake in her stomach.

Kimber was so kind and charming and lovely. And irresistible. She wanted him horribly, that much was clear. Her body yearned each time he withdrew his touch. But there was something she couldn't see about him, about this place. Too many inconsistencies for him to be an altruist who happened to belong to the gentry. Nobles were never noble anyways. She'd snooped through numerous aristocrats' mansions and uncovered far too many skeletons to think otherwise.

Kimber and his family -the Alphas of the tribe- were hiding something from her.

The Langfords didn't want her alone in the village. They didn't want her to have contact with her father. They'd placed guards to watch her and Kimber seemed impossibly keen on convincing her to Turn. The implication was there: some of the drákon couldn't. But what one or the other meant was unclear to Sunniva.

She looked at him and sorrowfully lied.

"No." She forced it out, concentrating on contracting her lungs to make the word emerge.

His reaction nearly broke her.

His brows unraveled as he registered what she'd said. His hands unwrapped from her back as if in disgust, the pressure of his chest diminishing with every breath. He no longer held her eyes instead looking anywhere but. He gathered his fine garments in his arms not bothering to clothe himself as if the need to put distance between them more pressing. He left without a single utterance, disappearing quietly into the vast gardens.

It was as if she'd been stabbed through the heart by ice.

She lowered her legs from the fountain's edge finding her shaky feet with difficulty. Her thighs were still coated in anticipation of their coupling. She was embarrassed and confused, the anger and hurt of it all swelling up. Her eyes changed from their artificial dull gray, to their natural violet and finally to the dragon's burning white. Shaking, she clenched a fist and brought it down against the stone basin of the fountain, cracking it through the middle. Water leaked out over her feet and onto the lawn.

The stringent desire to Turn was there. To hunt Kimber down and show him the truth. To lure him into a dance in the skies, to soar and tumble and ultimately finish what they'd started. Her skin was growing hotter and if she didn't reign in the beast it would be over.

She cupped her hands together gathering water from the fountain and splashed it over her face. She did it again and again until her skin was dry and red and the difference between tears and cool water was indistinguishable.

He was just a man, cruel and self-serving, she surmised. She'd go to her room now. She would sleep. Tomorrow would be another day. Tomorrow she would find out why.