Dragos shook his head. “As long as your god doesn’t cause you to break any civil laws, your fealty is no different from a dozen different religious practices scattered throughout New York.”
She exchanged a glance with Morgan, who gave her a slight, private smile. He turned his attention to Dragos. “Agreed. We’ll accept your terms.”
A corner of Dragos’s ruthless mouth lifted. “I think it could be very useful to have a sorcerer of your Power and skill owe me fealty.”
Morgan narrowed his eyes and smiled. He countered, “I think it might be useful to have a dragon owe me a favor or two.”
Dragos inclined his head and strode for the door. Just before exiting the apartment, he stopped and turned back. In that brusque manner of his, he said, “I visited at Isabeau’s court a long time ago. It was before you were there.”
“Yes, she spoke of it once or twice,” Morgan replied with a frown.
Dragos tilted his head. “I’m curious, what did she say? Did she ever tell you why I was there?”
Raising his eyebrows, Morgan replied readily enough. “She was convinced you wanted a Powerful artifact she had in her possession, called Azrael’s Athame. She later used it to cast her geas on me. She said she always kept it hidden the times you were at court, but I don’t know where. She would never reveal her hiding places to me. By the time she captured me, she had become obsessed with the fear of losing it, or it being stolen, so she ordered me to make a gold chain that was unbreakable. Whenever I was at court, she wore the Athame on the chain. I don’t know what she did with it when I was absent.”
Dragos’s eyelids lowered, hiding the expression in his gaze. “Whatever happened to that artifact, do you know?”
Morgan smile held a wealth of satisfaction. “It has gone back to its original owner.”
“I see.”
With that, the Wyr Lord nodded to Sid and let himself out.
It was as if a fierce desert sun had gone behind clouds. The apartment seemed much cooler and bigger than it had before.
Morgan swung around to face her, his expression filling with concern. “If I’d had any idea he would pull that stunt, I would never have met with him near you.”
“Forget it,” she muttered absently, her mind already on other things. “He was rude and invasive, but if you had done something that endangered his mate and baby, I’m not sure I blame him. He went straight for the weak spot in the room—me—and took what he needed to make sure you were on the up and up. Besides, you stopped him quickly enough.” She frowned. “This might sound odd, Morgan, but I… I think he looks…”
His expression had eased as he listened to her. Rubbing her arms, he asked, “You think he looks, what?”
“I think he looks a lot like Azrael,” she muttered. “It’s hard to remember exactly. But he has gold eyes, of course, and Azrael has green.”
“It’s not so hard for me to imagine the dragon and Death might be connected,” Morgan said dryly. “In any case, I’m glad to have that meeting behind me. Behind us.”
She stepped closer so she could lean against him and tuck her nose in her favorite spot, at the hollow where his neck met his shoulder. “Mmm,” she said. “What do you want to do now?”
He pressed his lips to her temple. She could hear the smile in his voice as he murmured, “There’s so much beauty in the world. What do you think about doing a little sightseeing?”
Breathing deeply, she took in his scent while delight at their future unfurled inside her like a flower. “I think that sounds absolutely perfect.”
Thank you!
Dear Readers,
Thank you for reading Spellbinder! I hope you enjoyed reading about Morgan and Sidonie. I have, for many years, wanted to tell my version of what happened to the Merlin character in the Arthurian saga, and so this story is near and dear to my heart.
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Happy reading!
~Thea
Spellbinder (Moonshadow #2)
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