Fire of Stars and Dragons (19 page)

Leaning down to her, nose-to-nose, the unmistakable scent of lavender on her skin heightens my desire for her. “My eyes are on making you queen, Cait, and giving you anything you desire. You could have everything.”

“Oh, really?” Her enticing voice drops, eyes drawing me in, driving me bloody mad, and I wish on every countless star in the sky I could kiss her once again. “And does that deal come packaged with your ice-cold heart?” She steps away, yet her nearness leaves the taste of her breath on my tongue. “If so, I’ll pass. Try again,
Your Highness
.”

“I believe we should head downstairs.” Father’s announcement tears my attention from Cait, and around, everyone stares at me and the scene playing out between us. Evan takes Runa by the arm, moving her back as I turn, infuriated, preparing a response to Cait’s remark, but find Dante’s glare blazing, daring me to speak.

Slow and emphatic in its threat, he shakes his head. “You bear neither my temperament nor Cedric’s. For you, it seems the matter of any of my blood running through your veins is inconsequential. Meaningless as it may be to you, our relation quite literally is of blood rather than biology, and it disgusts me to no end you choose to dishonor such lineage. Truly, Corrin, I believe myself to be patient, but perhaps not even gods have patience for the likes of you.”

*Cait*

“Not even one dance?” Theo shakes his head stiffly, refusing me again, not meeting my eyes, and continues to survey the crowd milling around the Grand Ballroom.

“Your security is paramount, Cait. How do you expect Claaron and I to ensure your safety if I am distracted?” With a small gesture to the frosty-haired dragon, Claaron nods and walks away, intercepting a couple heading toward me. “Too many people hold an interest in you here. You have great wealth and the ear of the king in their eyes. Should we provide the opportunity, they will use you, Cait. It is my duty to protect you, and to prevent such things.”

“So this has nothing to do with this morning?”

My dragon’s eyes flit over my face then return to his previous impassive position. “Does the king’s letter leave you reconsidering your actions? How Dante offers you a life I can never give?” Quietly, he says something to Claaron in another language, receiving a satisfactory response. “No. I expect nothing less than for you to make an informed decision.”

I want to slap him right across the face and fold my hands together to keep from doing exactly that. “You think just because I didn’t tell you what the note said it must mean…” Biting my tongue, I take a deep breath. “Theo, how do I rationalize playing judge and jury over a person’s life? Can I sentence someone to death and not feel like a murderer?” Noticing the muscles in his jaw tense, his teeth clenching together, I know he’s listening, and considering how hard this is for me. “Dante says immortality isn’t forever. You hint around that somehow, some way, I’m going to end up eternal like the two of you. So I can’t help but think maybe it’s morally justifiable to delay what I want in order to do what’s right, to save a life until… eventually, the time will come when nothing can be done, and then I can move on.”

“Have you considered perhaps such a time has come? Yes, you can save him, but do not feel guilty if you discover you do not believe you should.” Finally, his bold green eyes drop to meet mine. “Dante has noticed your absence, Cait.”

“Caitriona,” Dante calls out to me as Theo stands straighter, looking away. “Would you do me the honor of joining me on the dance floor, love?” Reaching me in that moment, he places his hand on my arm, gentle and tender, but the spark, the electric tingle at his touch is still there, always there with Dante.

Turning my back on Theo, I find it impossible not to feel he’s done the same thing to me since this morning. I wonder if he’s watching me walk away with Dante, and if he realizes he walked away first.

Chapter 13

*Cait*

His attention never wavers from me, the intensity of Dante’s vivid blue eyes frighteningly scintillating. Haunting, beautiful strains of a slow waltz play as he holds me in his arms, close, inappropriately so considering we’re at a charity gala for the Gilroy Children’s House Fund with another three thousand guests’ eyes wandering, trying to act as though they aren’t looking, aren’t noticing the undeniable attraction between us.

But I don’t care. Let them gawk. Let them gossip. I can’t count how many of these social functions I attended with Uncle Thomas since I turned sixteen, and never could ballroom dancing compare to this experience, in Dante’s arms, with his smooth lead, light steps, and perfect rhythm.

“Last night, on the rooftop,” he begins, the words seeming difficult to say. “The sight of your reaction to Theo’s return felt quite more revelatory than I expected. Perhaps you can imagine how, to me, a need to remain rather lacked. Please forgive taking such abrupt leave of your company, Caitriona, but I…”

“Don’t worry about it. I understand.” Goddess forbid if the roles had been reversed, I’d probably end up in a very unladylike brawl, but I don’t tell him. I’m just glad there wasn’t a blow up between them. What I can’t imagine is how bad a standoff involving Theo and Dante could be, but the word ‘nuclear’ would probably end up somewhere in the fitting description. “I’m sure you made the best decision for you.”

His lips form a tight line, brows furrowed together, and I can only guess he’s contemplating something again. Of all the people I’ve known, only my uncle comes close in this trait of spending so much time thinking before speaking. Uncle Thomas never made ‘gut decisions’ about anything, and I don’t believe Dante does either. Every move, every word, has a reason, a logic, a purpose. Nothing is meaningless with him.

“Yes, the best decision for
me
at the time, but did I make the best decision for
us
? Have I done irreparable damage to your feelings for me? It is so difficult to gauge these things when one has no experience with which to compare, Caitriona. Admittedly, women have claimed to be in love with me in the past, but with no sense of connection to them, no depth of emotion for them, it was of little concern to me if they did or did not suffer some measure of heartbreak when my interests fell elsewhere.” Appearing slightly embarrassed, his voice lowers. “Most certainly, those interests were not falling from one woman to another. I grew distracted by studies, too engrossed in my new intellectual pursuit to find romantic entanglements quite as enticing.”

I nod, looking away for a moment, catching sight of Theo watching us. “And what about me, Dante? How long until I’m not enticing enough? What happens to me when you grow distracted by whatever it may be this time?”

The eyes of the demigod holding me in his arms change, softening, a silent offer allowing me a glimpse deeper. “Never could you not be enough for me, Caitriona. No other woman ever compelled my interest the way you do. And as many women as I have held pleasant affection for, you are the only woman to lay claim to my heart. Understand that for my entire existence, I’ve harbored no measurable desire to marry, procreate, or carry on about in such a manner. However, I am the only child of the Mother Goddess, and a son at that, a status leading to a frustrating number of brazen lower goddesses and demigoddesses giving reason for my avoidance of any significant amount of time spent in the High Realm.”

The idea of Dante chased around by a multitude of hot-to-trot deities, anxious to wed him and bed him, makes me giggle quietly, but he doesn’t look too amused by it. I’m sure he’s about to chastise me for my reaction, but the song changes to a tango, and we shift positions.

If I thought our nearness was inappropriate during the waltz, the only thing preventing absolute indecency in the way he holds me pressed against him now is his sheer sense of dignity and propriety.

“As entertaining a notion you may find it, I maintain the standard of principles held by my mother, the same adhered to by the Dracopraesi and the Fae. To us, a pillar of morality is remaining faithful to one’s spouse until death, the most literal sense of ‘til death do you part’ in the vows of marriage. A lover should be treated with respect and adoration due any woman, every female created in the likeness of the Goddess, giver of life. But a wife…” Dante’s piercing eyes don’t leave mine as we glide across the dance floor, voice kept low, not missing a word, not missing a beat.

“A wife, Caitriona, I could not take for any reason less than love. That weighed on me when I offered to do so at court, but Theo’s call left me considering I had yet to see my part, what was to come. Even I could not fathom how this would come together, how deeply I would come to love you.” He spins me, my back to his chest as we execute the steps in perfect sync. His lips are at my ear, breath tingling along my neck, its sweetness so strong I can’t miss it as he whispers, “How desperately I would want
everything
with you.”

Dante’s hand glides sensually down my arm, along my side, coming to rest firmly on my hip, his lead strong and well practiced. “Hm. So, you want everything, Corrin wants me to save his life, and Theo wants…” I fall short trying to name what my dragon wants, not sure if he still wants anything with me. “How can I possibly know what the right thing to do is? If I have some huge destiny looming over me, is this a test or something? Do I fail and ruin it if I choose the wrong husband?” It takes everything in me to control my voice, to not yell in the middle of the gala, to continue dancing and talking in hushed tones as if I’m not eaten alive by stress. With a quick turn, we’re nose-to-nose, his lips and the sweetness inherent to him so inviting, I have to fight giving in, and to continue speaking. “What does your mother want from me, Dante?”

In a swift motion, he dips me back, hand on my thigh, fingers brushing the upper edge of the slit in my dress. Bringing me upright in a steady, gradual motion, he studies my face, too thoughtful in choosing his words before explaining when I just want an answer, everything spoken with consideration. The intensity of his gaze combined with the sensuality of the dance makes it increasingly difficult to remember why I’m agitated in the first place.

“It is not a dragon’s place to tell a ward of their destiny or influence the choices on their path. They bear the responsibility of ensuring you survive to fulfill it. I am not, however, in such a position and do not wish to see you suffer discord over the decision you face.” Dante pauses, executing a complicated series of steps and turns, then returning our positions to chest-to-chest. Running his thumb over my hand, his eyes meet mine, the love in them is unmistakable. “You cannot choose wrongly, Caitriona. Despite wanting to tell you that I am the only correct choice, that you must marry me, to do so would be quite devious. According to my mother’s logic, any of the three paths before you lead to the desired outcome: great change, each with their own specific effects on the world, none of which she finds dissatisfying.”

“That’s a relief and yet not helpful.” In a way, I want to strangle him. It would release a bit of my tension, and I’m safely assured he won’t die.

In our proximity, his lips ghost over mine. “What would you have me say, Caitriona?” His whisper is little more than an enticing sweet breath. “I offer you everything, but not in the way of Corrin’s ignorant offer. Material possessions hold little value to me. I offer you my undying love, a swear of my fidelity, the desire to see your body grow ripe as you bear our children, and a wish for us to spend eternity together, Caitriona.”

I slide my hand up his chest to his shoulder. As a demigod, son of the Mother Goddess, he’s beautiful, a work of art in his perfection, not the rough masculinity of my dragon, but undeniably attractive, powerful in his own right. I’d be lying to say I don’t desire him. “You make it sound like such a simple decision.”

When he turns me this time, my back is against his chest once more, his lips at my ear, but his hand finds its way, unhurried, to my neck, fingers lightly playing along the lines of my throat and upward to my chin as his thumb does a sensual dance from my ear across my jaw. “Do you love me, Caitriona?” His thumb joins his fingers in a provocative glide down my throat to my chest in time with our steps, my breaths coming shallower as I’m sure he’s going to cross the boundaries of appropriate public decorum.

“Yes.” I whisper, closing my eyes, too focused on the sensation of every beat of the tango, every step of it… and every electric tingle of his touch radiating through my body.

His hand stops, palm flat, resting just above my breasts. “More so than Theo?”

Not daring dishonesty with everything at stake in this situation, I swallow hard and take a deep breath. “Differently.”

“Fair answer.” Spinning me to face him again, his question is blunt, to the point. “And Corrin, you pity him so greatly you would marry him without love?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not sure if I can live knowing I killed him.”

“You aren’t wielding a weapon, Caitriona, and in all likelihood, if you do not allow nature to take its course, I will actively seek to do so,” he states matter-of-factly. “Cedric, Evan, even Oliver have failed to teach him in a manner remaining with the boy. I spent the better part of three centuries mentoring him to find once I left, everything I accomplished unraveled.”

The song ends, and he leads me off the dance floor, finding the quietest spot possible near a set of doors. His expression becomes icy, angered, unnerving me until I realize he’s looking over my shoulder. I glance behind me, seeing the king approaching us, smiling when he knows I spot him. Halfheartedly smiling back, I quickly turn around again.

“
Rá liom nach ba chóir duit fearg liom a thuilleadh anois, buachaill. Siúl amach roimh mé bhaint do cheann
.” Dante’s tone has a vicious cutting edge, his features stony, nothing like when talking with me. He nods, eyes dropping back to mine. “My apologies.”