Wyvern's Prince (The Dragons of Incendium Book 2) (18 page)

He would be the father of her son, and according to the prophecy, King of Regalia. Did that mean that she had a future with him or not? Should she tell him about the prophecy or not?

If she asked him for the whole truth, would he tell her?

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

Venero awakened with an overwhelming sense of well-being. He stretched and reached for Gemma, only to discover that she had left his side.

That was disappointing. He liked morning sex.

He opened his eyes to see her crouched before him, packing the satchel. He wondered whether she meant to leave him, but she wasn’t dressed.

She spoke to him without turning around, so he knew she must have detected the change in his breathing. “Will you paint my back, please?” Gemma pivoted on the balls of her feet, presenting the cup of dye. Her expression was cool and inscrutable.

What had she decided?

“So long as you don’t want to be defended from me.” The question was meant to be teasing, but he felt her attention sharpen.

Her blue eyes were glittering, looking once again as if they were made of faceted sapphires, and he was reminded a little too well of her lost abilities. There was still a dragon within her, even if her power to shift had been suppressed.

“Should I be?” she asked, her voice low enough to make him shiver.

Venero felt exposed as he seldom had before, at least outside of his brother Celo’s presence. He averted his gaze and rose, then made every sign of stirring the dye with his fingertip. It didn’t need his undivided attention, but he feared that if he met Gemma’s gaze, she’d see clear through to his soul.

There were some secrets he still needed to keep.

“Of course not.”

Gemma turned her back upon him, but there was a tension in her. He could almost hear her thoughts spinning. He wished he knew what she was thinking. She was wary, but she needed him for this task. Maybe that was the best he could hope for.

He was more disappointed by that than he felt he should have been.

Venero worked in silence, wondering all the while how he could win Gemma’s trust. He drew protective wings on her shoulders, then considered what else she had done. Instead of the snake coiled around her waist, she had rows of scales. And she’d drawn a tail, that wrapped around her left leg to her ankle.

Of course, her marks would include her true nature.

He drew a spiked ridge down her spine, then extended those wings into claws, like those of a bat. He’d never seen her in her dragon form, so he guessed. He noticed the water swirling around her lower legs, and the clouds on her upper arms. There was a cluster of gems around her navel, and when she turned to face him, he impulsively drew a crown upon her forehead.

With a jewel in the middle of her brow.

She watched him closely as he painted, but he kept his attention fixed on his fingertip. He finished the crown, then paused before finishing the oval of the gem.

He couldn’t avoid her steady gaze then.

“Can you read my thoughts?” she asked.

“Why would you think that?”

“It’s prudent to know the abilities of your comrades before entering a battle.”

Venero had to acknowledge that she was right, even though he wished she wanted to know for a more romantic reason. That should have been more troubling than it was. He’d never yearned for an emotional bond before. All his life, he’d been content to follow his own course and be self-reliant. He’d been satisfied with the conquest of a woman who intrigued him every time. Sex once, or maybe twice, had always satisfied him.

But he looked at Gemma, her hair loose and her skin adorned with protective symbols, her gaze clear as she studied him, and he wanted her even more than he had the day before.

HeartKeeper. It was a surprisingly appealing notion.

“No, I can’t,” he admitted. “Only Celo can do that.”

Gemma met his gaze, inviting more.

“My youngest brother. The one who helped you in the forest.”

“I heard that you each have some magical ability and yours is DreamCasting.”

“You already know that.”

“But not exactly what that means.” She smiled a little. “Remember that I don’t understand magic well.”

Venero nodded, unable to dismiss the sense that his answers were critical. She was watching him a little too closely. “I can send dreams to others while they sleep. Sometimes, I can send thoughts to others while they’re awake.”

“Like MindBending.”

“It’s similar. Less persuasive. More restricted.” He sighed and tried to explain. “No one’s born with the ability to DreamCast. It’s a gift and it’s defined at the point of giving.”

“By the giver?”

He nodded. “MindBending is an inborn talent. It can be developed and refined, expanded even.” He shrugged. “It’s a lot more powerful.”

“So, you can’t read the thoughts of others?”

Venero frowned. “Only my twin brother, once in a while when he’s careless—or excited about something. It’s only happened a couple of times.”

“But might be useful.”

“It might be.”

“And you can still influence the choices of others.”

Venero saw that she didn’t like that idea at all, but he wouldn’t lie. “That’s right.”

Gemma’s next words were low. “Have you ever done that to me?”

Venero opened his mouth then closed it again. She was watching him closely, so closely that he wondered how many of his secrets she could perceive. Maybe honesty between them should start immediately. Maybe it was time to take a chance. “Yes.” He saw her gaze flicker. “I sent you the dream of Arista’s memory. Nothing else.”

“So that I’d trust you when you appeared.” She surveyed the cavern, a little too composed for his taste. Venero never thought he’d want a woman to show more emotion, but Gemma was impassive. On the other hand, he respected that she was gathering all of the information before she responded.

As if she built a law case. That notion reassured him mightily.

“You sent me a dream of Arista’s even though you saw she was a cyborg.”

“No, you dreamed a memory. I sent you a dream, but it wasn’t a dream itself.”

She smiled. “You sound like a lawyer.”

“I am. I studied on Advocia. Good preparation for administration and negotiation.”

“For a king.”

Venero laughed. “For a diplomat, more likely.” He knew better than anyone that Urbanus would be king after their mother’s death, if that ever happened.

“But Arista loved you. I thought cyborgs didn’t feel emotions.”

“They don’t. She said she loved me, but that was just a strategic move. People confess love to get what they want…”

“Is that why you don’t believe in love?”

“Well, I haven’t experienced much love in my family.”

“No wonder you doubt its existence. But I have,” Gemma said, her eyes glowing. “And I know that with trust and love, everything is a thousand times better.”

Her conviction was compelling but Venero wanted proof. “But how do you know? How can you be sure that the other person means what they say and that they don’t just want something?”

Gemma pursed her lips, considering. “Because you trust them. Sometimes because they put the needs of the beloved above their own. You helped Arista escape, for example. Are you sure you didn’t love her?”

“No, I didn’t.” Venero fell silent but Gemma was watching and waiting. “It was just the right thing to do. My mother needs to be challenged.”

“Even if you have to pay the price.”

“The greater good has to be served by someone.” He forced a smile but Gemma didn’t smile back at him.

“Why did you send me that dream? Was it strategic, to keep me from fulfilling Arista’s mission as her Sword Sister?”

“No!” Venero was insulted by the implication and he saw immediately that Gemma had expected as much. “I made a mistake,” he admitted with some irritability. “I’m out of practice. Plus there’s something about writhing in pain that messes up my timing and control.”

Gemma frowned. “Pain?” Her gaze swept over him, then lingered on the cut on his forearm. “I haven’t hurt you that badly.”

“It was the change. You, of all people, have to understand that.”

She frowned at him, her confusion clear.

“When you kissed me and I shifted shape,” Venero explained impatiently. “I don’t know why you’d want to live with such an ability or why you would even do it. The shift is horrible. I’ve never felt such agony in my life, and…”

Gemma smiled. “Amateur,” she said and Venero was astonished to realize that she was teasing him.

More importantly, she wasn’t angry with him.

“Amateur?” He pretended to be insulted, but he was intrigued by the sparkle in her eyes. He liked that she was giving as good as she got.

“It takes practice to shift with grace.
Endless
practice.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Coward.” Her smile softened her charge.

He grinned back at her. “Absolutely.” He made a grimace. “No more practice for me. I like being the way I am now just fine.”

“And I thought princes of Regalia were intrepid,” she scoffed.

“Even we have our limits.” Their gazes held once again, and he felt that weird sense of their hearts matching pace. His own heartbeat felt amplified and it made him dizzy. “That’s your dragon,” he whispered and Gemma nodded. “I like that it does this.”

“Me, too.”

She was so at ease with her other form and its powers. And to tell the truth, Venero didn’t have any issues with the abilities he might have credited to it so far. He found it sexy when Gemma was focused, and he liked how she fought. He liked watching her reason through a problem and her perceptiveness was impressive. He liked when her eyes glittered and this matching-heartbeats thing was incredible.

Having her on his side was a good thing.

Could she be right about love?

Gemma dropped her gaze to the cup of dye and offered it to him. “Will you finish the markings, please.”

She was so serious that Venero wanted to make her smile. “Will the ritual work, even if completed by an amateur?”

“Only one way to find out.” Gemma eyed him. “Afraid of failure?”

“No. Not me. I’m an intrepid prince.”

“Even if I was a dragon again?” she asked softly.

“Even then,” Venero said, and knew it was true as soon as he said it. Gemma watched him, inviting a reply. “Because I trust you,” he admitted and her smile was all the reward he needed.

Venero closed the circle on her brow, then stepped back as the markings on Gemma’s body appeared to erupt in flame. Fire blazed over her skin and she raised her hands over her head, just as Arista had done, reveling in the sensation. It seemed to him that the burn was hotter and brighter, maybe because of Gemma’s true nature. The flame leaped from her fingertips, shooting a column of fire toward the roof of the cavern. Sparks showered over them, then the marks on the walls were illuminated. The fire spread around the cavern with dizzying speed, filling it with heat and light. Venero felt as if he were in the middle of an explosion, but it built to a crescendo then faded to a glow.

Like embers in the fire.

She was a splendid warrior and he wanted to see her in her dragon form. “What color are you, as a dragon?”

“You’ll have to help me find the antidote to find out.” Gemma’s eyes shone and her smile was filled with confidence. “I want you again,” she said, and Venero felt the acceleration of her pulse, as if her desire drove his own. It was so honest and so potent, this connection between them.

Hot, unquenchable and a fire in his very soul.

If this was love, Venero only wanted more.

* * *

Their lovemaking wasn’t as leisurely as the first time, though it was just as powerful.

They didn’t linger but rose immediately to wash and dress. Gemma felt filled with purpose. She knew they were approaching danger and that they might not both survive whatever confronted them in the Queen’s Grotto.

“Will Urbanus follow us?” she asked when she was dressing.

“I’m sure he already has.” Celo had included a change of clothing in the satchel, and Venero donned that. There were shoes in addition to the boots that Gemma wore and he laced them with purpose.

“What are his powers?”

“They increase all the time. He’s studying quite intensely under my mother and she keeps giving him more.”

Gemma grimaced. “That’s not very helpful.”

Venero gave her a look. “We know he can cast spelldust, which immobilizes all it touches and makes those items or beings immune to the passage of time. We know he can concoct a spell to make you sleep. We know he blames me for Arista’s escape.”

“And we know he paid for her death. Was that because she escaped?”

“And because she stole something important.”

“You didn’t say what it was.”