“I could have provided you a feast of those creatures.”
—Hunting keeps a dragon shifter young.— Uthyr turned back toward the castle along a canyon trail.
Sian fell in beside him. “I want your counsel about my prisoner.”
—I’m surprised to see you so soon. Not quite the two-month absence you predicted.— The dragon smirked. —I gave you a week. Seems we both overestimated your willpower.—
That smirk raised Sian’s hackles. So much for an ally’s wise counsel. “I returned because I might place protective magics over her. You’ll have to excuse my hypervigilance since this female has already died once!”
Uthyr kicked a boulder along as they walked. —Yet you somehow survived the loss.—
What was the dragon getting at? “Luckily I hadn’t claimed her.” Sian had never heard of a demon who wouldn’t greet death if his claimed mate perished. His own sire had. Somewhere in the Elserealms, Devel had led the front in an impossible battle—an immortal’s version of suicide.
Massive neck stretching, Uthyr craned his head toward Sian, making him feel like a laboratory animal under inspection. —Plus your hatred numbed what you felt for her and kept you from comprehending the magnitude of what you’d lost.—
Not helping Sian’s anxiety.
—To sever that lifeline of hate after so long would be like cutting off a limb.—
Or horns! “Why sever it when I’ve no doubt she’ll give me new reasons to hate her?”
—Such as her trap?—
“You know about that?” Was there anything his ally didn’t know about?
—I might have been observing the terrace that night.—
Sian bared his fangs. “Worthless dragonic spy!”
—I wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything drastic when you were fresh from a legion gathering. Picture how crazed you must’ve looked to her. She protected herself. Quite resourcefully, I might add.—
“Know that she will not seize the upper hand again,” he said with all confidence, even as he felt a whisper of disappointment over that fact.
Uthyr’s lips drew back from rows of pointed teeth, his version of a smile. —Imagine my surprise to see you plummeting from your own tower while leashed to a . . . what’s the modern phrase? Ah, yes, a bag of dicks.— He laughed at his own joke, emitting puffs of smoke.
Sian grated, “You’ve developed quite a mastery of modern phrasings.”
—I learned much from Rune’s memories.—
All of the M?ri?r were supposed to have slept during their five centuries of travel from the Elserealms to this side of the universe—except for Rune, who’d worked as their spy in Gaia.
Whenever a M?ri?r woke, he or she would delve into Rune’s mind to learn what history had passed and to pick up new words and speech patterns.
Sian hadn’t slept during the journey. Instead he’d lain in a kind of twilight, tormenting himself, wondering if this Accession would return his mate to him. . . .
Golden eyes alight, Uthyr said, —Plus the Vrekener queen, our new Pandemonian neighbor, has glorious television recordings! I secretly watch through her window.—
“That trespassing territory thief?” Melanthe had taken advantage of Sian, and he would punish her for it, somehow, someway. Speaking of territory . . . “Do you know where the Magic Kingdom is? My prisoner said it lies between Rivendell and Narnia.”
—These places sound familiar. I’ll think on it.— When Sian conjured a rag and began to clean his ax, the dragon said, —Searching for the hellfire again?—
Why had Sian confided his mother’s words to Uthyr?
Stopping along the path, the dragon placed a paw in front of Sian. —You need to accept that you will never find it. Acknowledge your curse and work within the confines of it.—
How easy for him to say! Uthyr voluntarily chose his shape.
Sian would kill to be a shifter. He’d even dreamed about shifting from his hell-change form to his previous guise and back.
—That’s your only chance for a lasting future with your female.—
“Lasting future? I despise her. I could never again trust her. Even so, any male would want to be attractive to his mate.” They continued on.
—If raised differently, Kari could be changed from before. Nature versus nurture, demon.—
“In this we agree. In fact, no longer will I call my prisoner Kari. This fierce new version, Calliope, is in a class all her own.” Because she wasn’t a royal in this life?
Maybe a princess’s restraint had been ingrained into Kari from birth. The same restraint that had curbed Kari’s temper could have controlled her sexuality.
Calliope had an explosive temper. Would her lusts be just as volatile?
“Turn Princess Kari feral . . . and you have Calliope.” Could that also mean she wasn’t narrow-minded and heartless? “Unless she’s playing games with me. The possibility remains that she’s a planted spy.”
—Games? Mayhap you’re attributing your own traits to her.— Uthyr flicked his tail, a movement he often made just before saying “checkmate.” —I’m surprised you haven’t decided to seduce her.—
Sian glowered at the dragon. “I’m sure you heard what she makes of my appearance.” He waved at himself. “She finds me repulsive.”
—What did you want most out of life? Ah, yes, a challenge.—
“An attainable one.” But hadn’t Sian also lamented never knowing a hard-won victory? If he could seduce her in this guise . . .
—Considering her age, she might be feeling the effects of overstimulation.—
Her senses would be growing ever sharper, bombarding her with stimulation, her desires increasing in time.
—I remember my own transition. I would have tupped a sweet-talking ghouless for relief.—
“You think I could use her new lusts against her?”