Fire of a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 3) - Paranormal Fairytale Romance (19 page)

“It’s happening! He’s coming!” Rachel’s voice hiked up hysterically.

Arabella groaned and pushed, and in a moment of undefined quiet, only the sloshing of water and scrambling for movement…
his son was born.
He knew it by the gasping look of relief on Arabella’s beautiful face. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her shining green eyes, not until he heard…

The baby’s cry.

His head whipped to the sound of its own volition. Rachel’s eyes were wide as saucers, but she was cradling his newborn son in the water, holding his head above it and letting his little body—an impossibly tiny body—float next to his mother’s legs. His son’s hands were fisted up tight to his chin, legs tucked against his small belly, but his eyes were wide and wondering.
Green eyes.
Just like his mother. And the small cry that had announced his entrance into the world had subsided into a tiny pout that worked soundlessly.

Lucian was the same—his mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

“Let me see him,” Arabella said, her words half sob.

Lucian was whipped out of his shock. “Arabella, my love.” He stared in wonder as she sat up in the bath. “Are you…”

His brothers had already released her. They were grinning like fools next to the bath, just like Cinaed, all as wordless as he, but they couldn’t possibly have half his joy.

“I’m fine,” Arabella said, still breathless. She was radiant.

His hands held her up, touching her skin in wonder—the fire was gone from her body.

She nodded to affirm it again. “I’m okay, Lucian.” She held her hands out to Rachel. “I want my son.”

Rachel looked uncertain how to move the baby from the water to his mother’s waiting arms. Cinaed leaned down and gently supported the baby with her. A look passed between them, and Cinaed’s wide grin seemed to leap across the air and infect Rachel. By the time the two of them brought the baby to Arabella’s arms for her to cradle against her drenched gown, Rachel and Cinaed were side by side, leaning into each other. Once they gave the baby over, Cinaed’s arm slipped around Rachel’s shoulders, and he held her tight to his side.

Lucian’s brothers each clapped a hand to one of his shoulders. Leonidas still looked gray, but his smile was nearly breaking his face. Leksander had tears in his eyes that he seemed determined not to let fall. By his side, Erelah leaned back, looking on with the same wonder that was bursting from Lucian’s heart.

But his tears were burned off by a fiery joy that radiated inside him like the sun. He reached a tremulous hand to his son’s head. Arabella was already snuggling him to her chest like a pro.

“You did it.” He breathed out the words, amazed.
This woman…
how had he managed to keep this amazing woman?

“We
did it.” She beamed up at him.
Those green eyes…
just like their son. The precious new life that fixed everything—Lucian could feel the holes in his heart healing, the poison banishing, the fear, anxiety, and sheer terror at the thought of losing them both evaporating into mist. The blessing of his son’s birth renewed Lucian’s life in an intensely magical way.

“He needs a name,” Arabella said, her grin catching up to everyone else’s.

Lucian’s face was still locked up in wonder. In all the worries leading up to this moment, he had never truly believed it would happen. Not until his son appeared before his eyes, blinking up at him and nuzzling his mother. Choosing a name seemed like inviting the fates to curse him once again.

But they hadn’t.

And then it hit Lucian in the chest, a bittersweet feeling that fit just right. “He shall be named Larik. Larik Smoke, dragon prince of the House of Smoke.”

Arabella’s smile dimmed a little. “Your father’s name?”

Of course, she couldn’t know. Not yet. He would tell her, but later. “Yes.” He snuck a look to Leksander. His brother gave him a short nod. Before he could catch Leonidas’s eye, his brother gripped his shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and then turned away, head bent. Leksander went after him, gesturing Erelah to follow.

Lucian turned back to find Cinaed and Rachel had likewise stepped back from the tub. Only they weren’t slipping away—they were locked in an embrace that burned with enough heat to set the forest on fire.

Finally, Lucian’s smile arrived on his face.

Arabella saw them as well and grinned up at him. “Maybe we’ll have another dragonling in the House of Smoke soon.”

“Shhh!” he said, returning her grin and bending close to his beautiful mate and his precious newborn son. “You’ll put a hex on it, if you speak of it too soon.”

She put a hand to his cheek, and he was so relieved to find it the same temperature as his. “It’s never too early to speak of love.”

“You’re right. As usual.” He brushed a soft kiss across the top of his son’s head. Then he leaned in to kiss Arabella’s cheek. “I promise never to argue with you again.”

She laughed, and the water sloshed around her. “Liar.”

He grinned. “Yes, probably so.” Then he kissed her and decided that this moment would never be topped in all the next five hundred years.

In less than twenty-four hours,
Arabella was already recovered from the most horrible and wonderful day of her life—the day she became a mom.

She glanced over her shoulder at little Larik. He was wrapped up in a magic-conjured blanket more soft than any human-made material and cuddled up in the crook of his grandmother’s arm. The queen was now the Queen Mother, and while the throne room was filled with the hundred or so dragons of the House, the Queen Mother only had eyes for the tiniest dragon in the room. Arabella didn’t blame her a bit—she could hardly take her eyes off the baby herself—but Arabella knew the sad, sweet smile that lit the graceful Queen Mother’s face was heartbreak mixed with love. The woman had lost her mate and gained a grandson all in one day. And who knew how long the House of Smoke would have its Queen Mother?

Because of that, Arabella fought her natural urge to want Larik in her arms at all times and let the Queen Mother have him whenever she asked. Even Lucian gave the baby over to his mother whenever he caught her gazing at him wistfully. And now that they were back in the throne room, gathered for the coronation, it was the perfect time for grandma to soothe little Larik’s tiny baby protests. For being so fearsome in the womb, he was practically an angel now that he was born. Although she wasn’t sure
angel
was the right word, now that Arabella knew
actual
angels—they’d helped bring Larik into the world, but they were much more fierce and strange than her beautiful, perfect, sweet-tempered infant son.

She was just a little bit in love. 
But then he was Lucian’s baby
—how could she not love him?

Arabella turned her gaze back to the gorgeous, gentle man who was her mate, the father of her son… and now, the king of the House of Smoke. His gaze roamed the assembled dragons, down in number by the twenty they lost to the poison. Tytus had been killed, and his demon mercenaries either killed or fled, but the three brothers working together, using all their fae magic, hadn’t been fast enough to save all of those who had been taken down by the dragon-talon-tipped darts and their magical poison. Some had been hit ten or twenty times and were dead before the brothers could even reach them. Some had hung on for longer, but eventually the poison took them. Leonidas and Leksander had left members of their House suffering in order to chase after her and her son. Baby Larik owed them his life… and Leonidas was still paying the price for it. He hadn’t passed away in the night, like so many of the House of Smoke had, and most of the gray pallor had disappeared from his face, but he still appeared drawn and worn.

Lucian told her the poison had nearly brought Leonidas to his wyvern form. They had almost lost him. It made Arabella cry every time she thought of it.

But now he was weaving through the crowd, smiling and clasping hands with the other dragons of the House. Leksander followed behind him, doing the same. They were both working their way toward the front where Lucian was sitting on the throne next to hers.

Queen Arabella.
She was pretty sure she would
never
get used to that.

Lucian caught her staring at the way he filled out his royal tunic with the golden dragon magically emblazoned on the chest. He wore a golden cape, so light the tips floated in the breeze, and a thin circle of gold rested on his head, newly crowned. She had one as well, although her dress looked more like the mating gown she wore just six weeks ago when she agreed to risk her life and her heart to belong to the crown prince of the House of Smoke. The white filmy tendrils of it floated in the same unseen breeze.

Lucian smiled. “I know what you’re thinking, Arabella Sharp.”

“Do you?” she asked with a smirk. “I thought mindreading only happened in dragon form.”

“I don’t have to be a mindreader to recognize that look in your eye.”

“The one that says
I can’t believe I’m sitting on this throne?”

He lowered his voice and leaned over the arm of his ornately carved throne chair. “The one that says you can’t wait to come in my bed.”

“Lucian!”
She darted a look at the crowd, but if they heard, no one gave notice. “What about the baby?” Although the truth was that her body had already recovered from the near-death experience of giving birth to her dragonling son—the healing power of dragon magic was breathtaking—but with all the turmoil and House matters to be settled and attending to baby Larik, there hadn’t been even a moment of time for her to reconnect with her mate. And she had a powerful, almost overwhelming, urge to do just that—to feel Lucian’s arms around her, to revel in his kisses and his lovemaking.
They had made it.
She had lived. She had given him a son. And now she had five hundred years to enjoy every inch of his gorgeous, manly form, worry-free.

He winked. “The baby will have to find his own mate. But he has a few hundred years in which to do so.”

She had to bite her lip to hold back the grin. “How soon is this party over?”

He dropped his gaze to her ample breasts—they had grown at least a size, maybe two, since the birth, swelling with magical baby milk to feed her new dragonling. “Not soon enough for me,” he said, his voice full of sexual promise.

Arabella squirmed with the heat gushing to her core. It really couldn’t be right for her to be hot for her mate in the middle of a coronation ceremony—but she couldn’t help herself. Not with Lucian looking at her that way.

A small commotion at the end of the long throne room made Arabella’s heart seize—

But it was only Cinaed and Rachel finally making their entrance.

They checked their hurried pace as they stumbled through the door and all eyes were suddenly on them. Cinaed straightened his long coat—that ancient formal style like Lucian’s, only less royal and minus the golden cape—and Rachel fluttered her hands over the magical dress someone had conjured for her. It was flame-red and emphasized all her curves. She seemed flustered by the sudden attention. Cinaed took her hand and led her down the center aisle. A wave of head-turns and smirks followed them.

Arabella narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing her best friend as she marched down the room toward the throne. “Do you think they…” She flicked a look to Lucian.

His smirk was halfway to a laugh. “Every dragon in the room can smell the sex on them.”

Oh, gawd.
“Keep that to yourself!” she hissed. Rachel would be mortified.

Lucian gave her a quizzical look. “I thought you blessed their—”

“Shh!” she said as they grew close enough to hear.
Yes,
she wanted Rachel and Cinaed to get together. She hoped they’d spent the last twenty-four hours christening every square inch of the guest apartment. Or Cinaed’s lair. Or the elevator for all she cared. She just didn’t want her best friend to be embarrassed in any way about anything. The romance between them was fresh and new and… Arabella didn’t want it adversely influenced by anything. Not until it had a chance to take root and flower.

Cinaed guided Rachel to the left side of the dais where the two thrones—Arabella’s and Lucian’s—stood, along with the Queen Mother’s seat to the back. On the right, Leksander and Leonidas stood in a similar spot. Now that everyone had arrived, Arabella guessed the ceremony could begin. Rachel continued to fuss and tug at her dress as if the fit on it was almost too tight. Arabella fought off the grin that came with that thought—she was sure Cinaed had conjured it to his own liking. He and Lucian exchanged brief nods. Arabella wondered what exactly that was about, but both dragons seemed pleased with whatever it meant.

Lucian stood and raised his arms to quiet the stray murmurs still going around the room. “Dragons of the House of Smoke, a great tragedy has visited our House.” A hush fell over the crowd. “And a great blessing. We have a new prince…” He swept his hand out and smiled at his mother, who barely looked up from her doting on little Larik. The crowd roared its approval, clapping and stamping their feet. When it settled a little, Lucian added, “And a new queen…” More roaring approval, and Lucian beckoned her to stand. She was more than capable—her legs were strong under her, and the rest of her was quickly forgetting that she’d almost been consumed in a magical fire from the inside out less than twenty-four hours before—but somehow the adoration that was coming in waves made her a little weak behind the knees. All she’d done was love their prince, now king, as they did. But she understood that it was precisely that True Love which had made everything possible.