“Will you want me if I refuse your sister?”
That demanded consideration. But desire and love and forever were all separate mistresses. And right now, all three were courting him as one combined. “I will want you even then.” His teeth graced the soft flesh of her neck as he spoke.
“Will you want me, even knowing I am a Perfect Chimera?”
The heat in his veins cooled by a small enough margin that he could straighten and look her in the eye, attempting to root out any forced boldness in the claim.
There was none.
The gold blood. Bones strong as steel, as strong as a Dragon’s. Her height. Her muscular structure. It made too much sense to be a lie. She had developed and grown with the strength of Dragon blood coursing through her veins.
“Nothing, Arianna. Nothing in your world or mine, or the next, would make me want you less.”
She grinned, the flat line of her Fenthri teeth showing. “You’re a fool, Cvareh.”
“I am,” he agreed with a grin of his own.
Cvareh closed the gap at last, and found her lips with his. His chest was flush against hers and his thigh pressed between her legs. He held her fingers with white knuckles, as if to hold in place the tension he was struggling to let out only a moment at a time, savored like sips of the most perfect wine, held on the tongue to embolden the flavor.
Her tongue probed his mouth, pressing into his canine. Blood wet his palate. She smothered a groan.
The sound shot straight through him, forcing his hips further into hers. Her magic, her essence, flooded him. The dam holding the tension between them shattered, and Cvareh grasped her hips, pushing her up further against the wall. Claws shredded against the bindings across her thighs and up into the cloth that covered her groin.
Twenty Gods above, restraint be damned. Cvareh would know all there was to know of her before the day was done. And if he was lucky, he would do it again, and again, and again.
28. Petra
“What has you so pleased?” Cain asked from her left. He’d been silent for hours, clearly mulling over something. Petra wondered if the obvious small talk would be enough to bring it forward, because her patience only stretched so far and he was already beginning to pull at it.
“The sun is warm, more Rok blood has been spilled than Xin, Yveun has remained mostly tucked out of sight, and my brother seems to have escaped the Court.” She stretched her fingers, her claws digging into the chair. She’d only had to stand for two people so far, and while that would permit her to excuse herself from the remainder of the Court if she desired, Petra remained. After all the trouble it was to see the Court to daylight, she wasn’t about to step away.
“He seems to have escaped for quite a while,” Cain muttered.
Petra laughed. “Does his fondness for the woman bother you so?” Cvareh was certainly a gossip with all his visits to Napole’s tea parlors, but she’d never taken Cain for such habits.
“Why doesn’t it bother you, is the better question?” As if realizing his own boldness after the fact, Cain glanced around quickly, taking note of any who could’ve overheard. Lucky for him, the only other guests in the box were close Kin who Petra had no cause to worry over.
“Cvareh is loyal above all to House Xin. If someone is fond of him, then they must also be fond of his House. Their relationship is an advantage to us. Ends before ideals.”
“Ends before ideals,” Cain repeated.
“Have a little more heart in that,” Petra cautioned.
“Forgive me, Oji. It is only, the notion of our Ryu with a… thing… like that woman.” Conflict was apparent in both Cain’s voice and expression. He believed in the motto of House Xin, but the matter bothered him to an immense degree—enough that it seemed to rattle his very core.
Oh well. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. There were certain benefits to being Oji, and never having to explain herself was one. Cain would come to his senses sooner or later, or Petra would forcefully remove all conflict on the matter for him.
“Petra, her blood…”
“Was as it should be.” Cain was too smart for his own good and had been around the woman for too long. Petra needed to stop this speculation where it was. “It is none of your concern.”
“You must have seen it, smelled it. There was something off about that illusion. I don’t think—”
“I do not need you to think,” Petra interrupted abruptly. “I need you to do as I say for the good of Xin.”
“That is what I am concerned for, Oji.”
“Cain, that is what I am concerned for. If you wish to be so concerned for it, then you wish to be the Oji.” Petra turned to him, baring her teeth. “Would you like to step into the pit?”
“Never.” Cain lowered his eyes and face, submissive.
“Good.”
The duel before them finished and a long stretch passed before any challengers shouted forward. It had been an aggressive first day, but they were all becoming overwhelmed with bloodsport. Half the stands had already retired and even the Rok versus Rok duels held less joy for her.
“There is someone I need to see,” she announced upon arriving at a decision in her head. “Cain, stand for someone if they’re of particular import.”
“Understood, Oji.” His eyes betrayed his curiosity, but his tone and body language were obedient. She hoped he had learned his lesson sufficiently.
Petra descended into the busy halls and walks of the amphitheater. With most of the stands emptying, many a Dragon worked their way to the town below. Petra did not blend in. The masses parted for her with small bows. Members of House Xin delighted in their genuflections. Tam were pleased to keep the balance, respecting the Oji of another House.
House Rok stepped to the back of the lines that formed on either side of her. They gave nothing more than the obligatory bow of their heads, regarding her with shadowed eyes and mouths pressed into thin lines. Their subservience and respect was drawn from them with force.
The Court had only served to make things worse between the Houses, she decided. The bloodshed had singed their nostrils and reminded them that Nova was not one Dragon family. They were factions, divided and vying for the circumstances that would give them the most power. What was “best for Nova” was defined entirely by what was best for any one individual House.
Petra turned, disappearing through a curtained hall and onto a shaded balcony. The sticky scent of fruit that had been baking in the sun all day upon silver platters created a masking perfume to the carnage that happened in the pit. Petra’s eyes fell upon two lounging couples—luckily Xin and Tam.
“Out with you,” she commanded. “I require this space.”