“But it worked before?” Mateo asks insistently. “You’ve seen it?”
“Before the curse came into effect, I’d given blood many times,” Erik replies. “Then, shortly after Maija Essen died, I went to the Annwn Gala.” He stares into the fire. “That night, when we lined up to bleed on the stone, it didn’t accept the gift. That was our first indication that something was wrong.”
“Why didn’t anyone try to figure out why?” I ask softly.
Erik shakes his head. “You have no idea what those days were like,” he replies, his expression troubled. “Zyrian had informants everywhere. Dragons were being hunted, poisoned in their homes, killed in the streets. No one knew who to trust. Nobody had time to investigate the Bloodstone. We were too busy trying to stay alive.”
God, I feel like a jerk for asking. I put my hand on his. “I’m sorry.”
The moment I touch him, I know what to do. “Erik,” I whisper. “Cut my hand.”
“What?” He gives me a horrified look.
“Please.” The certainty inside me is growing. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I know exactly what I need to do. “Mateo can heal it.”
Mateo hears the strained note in my voice. “Do it.”
I barely feel the slice of Erik’s talon against my skin. I do what he did—hold my palm over the Bloodstone and let my blood drip down on it.
The same pressure fills my head. For a second, I wonder if my instincts are wrong.
But only for a second.
Because this time, when my blood touches the ruby, the barrier momentarily gives way, and the red drops are slowly absorbed into the gemstone.
Threads of magic swirl around the dragon’s treasure and around me, tugging us together. The stone is calling to me. It wants to be whole again.
My head starts to hurt. On auto-pilot, I pick up the stone with the hand that’s bleeding.
A surge of magic rushes from the ruby into me.
But the magic is skewed. It feels wrong, tainted. This is almost as bad as Zyrian’s thick, oily strands of magic. If we release this into the world, I know that things won’t get better.
They’ll get worse.
The Bloodstone’s magic seems to burrow its way into my cut. I reflexively push it out, but it’s strong. So strong…
“Enough.” Casius’ voice is harsh, and he yanks the chain from my grip, his face pale. “Mateo. Heal her now.”
That was much more powerful than I ever anticipated.
You must pretend that you’re fine, a voice inside me cautions. Otherwise, the dragons will not let you touch the Bloodstone again.
Is that my voice? Maija Essen’s? The Bloodstone itself? I don’t know anymore.
I smile up at Mateo. His piercing blue eyes are filled with concern as he runs a finger over my cut, healing it effortlessly. “See?” I tell Erik, flexing my fingers. The blood magic is tugging me toward him, and him toward me, but we both resist its pull. “As good as new.”
“Are you sure?” Bastian asks worriedly.
I don’t like lying to my dragons, but something compels me to keep silent. “Of course.” I jump to my feet. “I’m starving. Do you think Frau Ziegler still has some of last night’s kale and sausage soup? I’ve been dreaming about it all day.”
They’re not quite reassured, but they don’t press me. “Don’t eat too much,” Rhys says, coming up to me and putting a hand on the small of my back. “It might spoil your surprise.”
“And what is my surprise?”
Bastian bites back a smile. So he’s in on it too? I’ve got to start figuring out how to hold my own against my dragons.
7
Aria
Oh. My. God.
At dinner, in response to my badgering, Rhys had told me that he was going to give me a tour of the area. Silly me, I assumed we’d be driving into Cologne so I could see the sights.
But no. Rhys is going to take me flying. In the sky. On dragon back. This is every single one of my Game-of-Thrones, Harry-Potter, Anne McCaffrey fantasies come to life.
I’m so excited that I can’t stop jumping up and down with glee. “This is so awesome,” I say, probably for the tenth time.
Mateo, who’s standing next to me on the lawns in front of the castle, laughs at my expression. “Erik says you’re concerned about the cold, tesoro,” he says indulgently. “Here. This will help.”
He does something clever with his magic, and a warm blanket of air seems to drape around me. What a sweet trick. “Teach me how to do that,” I tell the mage enviously. Super handy to be able to control the temperature around me—I always seem to freeze my ass off in winter, no matter how bundled I am. “Unlike making paperweights fly through the air, being warm is a useful skill to learn.”
Mateo rolls his eyes. “Use your imagination, little thief. If you can fetch a paperweight, you can fetch more valuable things. Like swords.”
Oh. Duh. Not my brightest moment.
Thankfully, Rhys cuts in before I can feel too much like a fool. “You ready?” he asks, his face lit up with excitement that matches my own. I remember what Erik said. Rhys loves to fly.
I’m totally ready. I’m finally going to see one of my mates in dragon form, and I’m going for my first flight. “Hell, yes.”
Rhys methodically takes off his clothes. He’s not trying to be sexy, but my constantly-horny libido still takes note. Is it wrong that the soundtrack of Magic Mike is playing in my head, and Rhys is playing the starring role in my fantasies, shoving Channing Tatum out of the way?
After my previous mostly-mediocre sexual encounters, all this great sex is going to my head. Of course, given that I can either choose to be horny because of my five dragon mates or be freaked out by the threat posed by Zyrian, guess which option sounds better?
As soon as the last article of clothing hits the ground, the air around Rhys’ body shimmers, and then he explodes into a massive purple dragon.
My jaw hits the floor. “Wow,” I breathe in awe.
Okay, I know that isn’t very articulate, but have you ever seen a fucking dragon? Wow covers it nicely.
Rhys tilts his head to the side and levels one slitted eye at me. I can feel his concern through our bond. Wait, he thought I’d be freaked out seeing him as a dragon? Silly Rhys.
“You’re beautiful,” I say with complete honesty.
And he is. His scales are brilliantly purple, the moonlight reflecting off of them in a glittery wave. He’s long and sleek, almost serpent-like in his regal lines. And when he spreads his wings… Holy fuck. So sexy.
Rhys’ dragon snorts at my compliment, though I can tell he’s pleased.
“Would you rather me say you’re fearsome and terrifying?” I tease him.
He closes his eye in a wink, and then throws his head back and lets out a thunderous roar. A jet of fire shoots into the sky, and my pulse quickens. When he’s done with his little show, he turns back to me, a thin line of smoke trailing from his nostril.
“Show off,” I accuse him with a grin.
If a dragon could smirk, Rhys does.
At my side, Mateo snorts. “Enjoy your flight, tesoro,” he says. “Rhys, be careful. No barrel rolls.”
Rhys lowers his body to the ground so that I can climb onto his back. I clamber up and get myself situated between his shoulders, the way Mateo and Rhys instructed me to. Mateo checks to make sure I’m securely seated before nodding at Rhys. “She’s good.”
As soon as Mateo gives the all-clear, Rhys leaps off the grass, and with a mighty flap of his wings, propels us into the night sky.