CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 23
Gayriel awoke in a bed with soft, silvery sheets and an abundance of poofy pillows. The room was too bright. Her eyes were throbbing, how she wasn't sure, but it felt like they would swell right out of her head. She moaned miserably and stretched. Her body ached, as though she had been quartered and dragged for several miles and then sewn back together.
A flash of a memory prompted her to pull her arm upward. Dried blood caked on the skin, but the wound itself was nothing but an angry scar. She had been sewn back together. Shifter saliva...she would never have guessed. Her mind fogged for a moment and the soft mattress and lure of sleep threatened to pull her in.
There were important topics she needed to consider, though; such as where she was, and where everyone else was. If she could just sort out the confused mess of her mind…
The soft click of a door caught her attention, sort of. She struggled to force her gaze in the direction of the sound.
“You're awake,” Dynarys stated, coming around the foot of the bed. He was damp, and half naked. She stared at the contours of his chest, tiny beads of water glistened on his skin. Such perfection, she wanted to reach out and trace the muscles with her fingertips.
When she did, Dynarys snatched her fingers and brought them to his lips, lowering himself next to her on the bed. She didn't know whether she was relieved or disappointed when he remained on top of the sheets.
Long fingers reached out and ran through her hair, massaging gently at her temples.
“Mmmm, oh, I love you,” she murmured against his arm, closing her eyes.
He chuckled. “Yes, you have said, though this time I think you might be speaking to my fingers.”
She cracked her eyes open. He was there in front of her, amber eyes intense and tired. His hair was wet and clean and the stubble had been scraped from his jaw. But he looked weary; the last week had worn on his essence. A little of the guilt and worry returned. She had almost cost herself everything.
“I do love you,” she told him. “I'm sorry, Dynarys, I...”
He swooped down, stilling her words with a kiss. “Do not apologize now, it is over and you are alive. That is what matters,” he studied her face. “But do not ever lie to me again.”
She shook her head, agreeing and ashamed.
“And we will have to work some of this willfulness out.”
Whoa, what? She swallowed and looked at his face. Yes, indeed, his eyes flared, passion in their depths.
That deep pull of longing that seemed constant when he was around flared back, bringing her arousal, and her body's condition into clear focus. She wanted to. Wanted him, right then, but there was no way she could handle it physically. Even mental exhaustion warred with consciousness.
His fingers brushed her temple once more, and then down along her jaw. Such a simple caress and it made a mess of her.
“Not today,” he told her, the corner of his perfect mouth twisting wryly. She must have frowned, because he snorted at her. “Believe me, I could fuck you from now until sunset, but I will not have you hurting yourself trying to keep up with my desires. You need to rest yet, and unfortunately, we have other tasks that must be seen to this day.”
“We do?”
Dynarys nodded. “Kurath's trial is today. You are required to relay the events from in the forest.”
In the forest. Suddenly, it all came back to her. Grim's trap and Pourtus the traitor, Kurath and then...she pushed herself upright. The sheets she had been buried beneath fell to her waist and it occurred to her that she was naked. Someone had undressed her; the clothes must have been blood soaked. Even now, patches of dried blood marred her skin where she had cradled her arm against her chest.
“Where is Scet? You didn't kill him did you?”
Dynarys's eyes narrowed and he inhaled sharply. “Never again will you mention another man's name, especially his name, in my bed. Understood?”
His bed? A little more alert, she looked around with new purpose, but she found herself disappointed. She expected to find a warm space filled with items and furniture that comforted her mate. There was nothing extraordinary in the sparse space. Not only that, but it was familiar. Nearly exactly the same as the room she had been placed in as a captive when she first arrived at the Amber Aerie.
“We are back at the Amber Aerie?”
Dynarys nodded, but he didn't seem much mollified.
“I do need to know, Dynarys. What happened after I collapsed? I don't remember anything.”
“Justice happened,” Dynarys growled. “Kurath and the two pack-mates with him were captured, as their law dictates, and are to be tried today.”
“Pourtus?” she wavered. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear what happened to the dragon who so nearly cost her life.
“Dead.”
She blinked at the cold tone.
“By law, I have the right to remove any who would harm you. A dragon's mate is protected well by our laws.”
“So you finished him? He wasn't looking too good when you arrived.”
“I didn't have to. The Shifters of the Amber Aerie pack have decided that I am their alpha, no matter how often I try to convince them otherwise. In essence, that makes you the Alpha's mate. And anything that harms the Alpha or his mate they destroy ruthlessly. It is their way.”
Poor Pourtus. He didn't even have a chance.
“What of Grim? And Sce...”
“There was no sign of Grim. None of the Shifters could even catch his scent after the attack. And the Quatori had begun to close in, smelling the blood of battle.”
She winced. Her blood. She had been so close to death.
“We search for him now. I promise he will pay for his actions.”
“Dynarys?”
He looked at her, a stubborn set to his jaw.
“What happened to Scet?”
“Gone,” he growled. “And if he is smart he will stay that way until long after the bond has broken.”
“He saved my life,” she reminded.
Dynarys sighed and his head tipped backward. A muscle twitched in his jaw and his throat convulsed a few times.
“I know that. The man in me knows that. But I do not like the link...I hate the link.” He took a deep breath, and though no one had ever explained the link to her, she knew immediately what it was. He hated that Scet could be in her mind, and her in his.
“My dragon is furious beyond measure,” he continued. “It would be wise not to talk to me about it, and if Scet wishes to live, it would be wise if he found a new pack.”
Gayriel frowned. It didn't seem like a fair arrangement. The Shifter saved her life and then is banished from his home when he should be rewarded.
When she looked up, Dynarys was frowning, too. Slowly, gently, he lifted her into his arms, until she sat on his lap, held tight against his chest.
“I just found you,” he whispered. “I will not share.”
She almost shook her head at his silliness. Share? Not likely. Only he had ever set the fire in her. Enough to change everything. But she thought for a long moment. How would it be if he linked with another? Would she not feel the same? His jealousy, unnecessary as it was, was real. And the only way for her to salvage the situation was to consider it as seriously as he did.
“I refuse to use the link, Dynarys,” the corner of her lip pulled tight. “As much as I can, anyway. How else can I help you see I will have no other?”
He leaned his head against hers, his breath stirring against her hair. “This helps.”
A knock at the door disrupted their intimacy.
“Enter,” Dynarys barked, dragging the sheets upward to cover Gayriel's nakedness. She shifted, wanting to see who was intruding and why. Dynarys would not allow such a thing. He held her to him, so that she could only glimpse the door if she twisted her neck around.
Four men dragged in a tub, followed, once again, by a trail of youth with steaming buckets and supplies.
“You have them do this each time you want a bath?” she questioned.
“Great Six, no,” his fingers were in her hair again, gently tugging through the tangles. “That would be a criminal waste of resources. I use the bath-house regularly, but I didn't think you would appreciate the publicity...or my people's penchant for walking around nude, as you put it. And it would be very public, you've created quite a stirring within the aerie.”
“I did?”
“Hmm.” Dynarys agreed. “The Shifters, especially. They've started calling you the Alpha's mate and won't call you anything else,” Dynarys's voice had a bemused note to it. “I hardly had to ask these fellows for help, they were so eager.”
A blush worked its way from her center outward. “I'm not sure I deserve such attention.” In fact, most of her existence had consisted of trying to avoid visibility.
“Don't worry, it comes with a price. Not everyone is happy about the arrangement. I have many enemies, Gayriel, they will be yours now, as well.”
The men had finished settling the tub and paused respectfully before exiting the room. The youth with their buckets and towels did the same. At last, the door clicked behind them and Gayriel and Dynarys were alone.
Dynarys didn't set her down. He rose from the bed with her still in his arms, the sheets fluttering down to the mattress. Then he carried her to the tub and gently set her inside.
The steaming water was much the same temperature as Dynarys's skin. Her body relaxed, the pleasure of the heated liquid flowing through her muscles deliciously. She moaned appreciatively.
“You will have to stop that if you want the beast to behave,” Dynarys growled.
She opened her eyes to find that he had already stripped and was entering the tub behind her. Before she knew it, they were both in the water, her back pressed to his front. And he was washing her with the soft cloth and soap that had been provided, moving the material in small circles on her shoulders and down her arms, cleaning off the blood and grime that caked upon her skin. When he reached the bump of the scar, he paused.
“I almost lost you,” he muttered. “We haven't even had a chance to begin.” He cleaned around the wound. It didn't hurt at all, like an old scar long forgotten, but he treated it as gently as if it were fresh.
“How did you discover Grim?”
“He killed the Archon, it was pretty obvious from there.”
“Oh.”
Yes, she remembered. The broken, lifeless man, once powerful, if a little mad, left as a pile of broken flesh and blood on the dais.
Dynarys pressed against her back so that she was sitting upright. He grabbed a small pitcher from the floor beside the tub and began to pour water on her hair and lather her scalp. His fingers rubbed and massaged until she started making sounds of pleasure again. Then he quickly dumped the rinse water over the locks and pulled her back once more, evidence of his desire digging into her backside.
They lay there for a long while like that, in silence, Dynarys with his arms around her, sheltering, protecting. Did he love her? His dragon had chosen her, so he had little choice but to take her as mate. But what of the man? Was it possible for his beast to choose someone he didn't love? He hadn't said it, even though she had told him twice. She felt it though, like an invisible string pulling her constantly to him. She pondered it, but didn't ask him. Instead, she basked in the knowledge that this was her life now. No managers, no worry about being sold or having to please others. Simply existence, and the mate she had chosen. It seemed unreal.
She must have drifted off again, for how long she couldn't tell, but she was awoken by a knock at the door. Dynarys shifted, too, startled, as if he had been dozing, as well.
“Yes?” he snapped.
An uncertain pause and then, “The trial begins, does Gayriel want my help preparing?”
Despite her desire to sleep for another week, a happiness grew within her. Tharissa.
Dynarys heaved a long sigh, his arms tightening for a moment. Was he reluctant to give up this moment, too? Then he stood.
“Come, mate of mine. Unfortunately, we must deal with the world now.”