Celenore

Claire took in the expressions of everyone at the table in Talon's command tent. From shocked to downright horrified. Jovari's mouth opened and closed like a fish. Desaree had tears leaking down her cheeks, her bandaged hands resting on the table. Saffra sat baffled, eyes wide, with her mouth gaping. But it was Talon's expression that captured her attention. The rage in his eyes, the way his body tensed with fury, the way his jaw flexed.

"I'm all right," she assured them. Except, her voice cracked and she had to clear her throat. "Really. I promise. No lasting harm done." That wasn't exactly true. But she didn't want them to worry. Didn't want—

"He tortured you," Talon hissed, baring his teeth. "He subjected you to unbearable pain, and I wasn't there to—"

"Talon, it was my ordeal to—"

"No!" His palm slammed against the table, making it shudder. "All of you—out," he snarled. His skin began to ripple, to change. A few black scales sprouted. His beast was coming to the surface. "Out!"

She jumped to her feet. "No, stay. Everyone stay. Talon, control yourself. I...I'm not finished with everything. There's still more to tell." She hadn't gotten to the part where she and Taylynn woke up Fright (not that she was at liberty to disclose the details of it). Nor had she explained how, exactly, she had become queen.

Talon looked as if he wanted to argue. He took a deep breath, and then another. His skin stopped rippling and the scales disappeared. She wanted to climb into his lap, to wrap her arms around him and cocoon herself there. Wanted to kiss away his fear, kiss away his guilt. He took this personally—Kane's attack—as if it was his own failing when it absolutely wasn't.

The dragon in him saw any threat to his mate as unbearable and would react on instinct alone. It was pivotal that he take control or the beast would. That, she realized, was why he had tried to send them away. He wanted her alone, all to himself. Even now she noticed the way his hand inched over the table, as if reaching for her, wanting to touch her, to reassure himself that she was okay, that she was indeed here beside him.

But he was Dragonwall's king. And she was now a queen. She would not afford him leniency. These were times of war. She wanted to get through everything she had to say, to tell it once, and be done with it. Only then could she begin to put it behind her. Only then could she heal.

At last, Talon sighed his acceptance. She reclaimed her seat and recounted the rest of her story. She was glad that she finished with the bits about Spring Solstice, ending positively in hopes of distracting them from everything that had come before. "Thank you for your gift, by the way," she said to Talon, holding his gaze. He blew out a breath and his features softened. "I'm sorry I didn't have the foresight to send something to you in return." She didn't care that everyone in the tent was witnessing this little exchange between them.

"You owe me no gifts, Claire. Choosing me, my kingdom, the title that comes with it—that was the only gift I have ever wanted."

Her throat closed up. She could barely manage a nod before turning to the others. "I loved your gifts—all of them. They are...special to me." A few of them glanced down at the table. Silence fell.

Feowen cleared his throat and said, "My sister will take up queenship over our people when the time comes. The Tree would like to see a union of both races. A union between the Sprites and the Drengr. Only then will Claire pass the mantle. It will herald a new era and illustrate a united front against Kane. Once your ceremony is complete and your bond sealed, you will travel to the forest where Claire will abdicate. The crown will pass to Taylynn."

Claire nodded, her way of confirming what Feowen said. She hadn't been happy with any of this. She finally understood Taylynn's helplessness, what she'd been subjected to, serving Dragonwall to bring balance to the kingdom, operating through choices that weren't entirely her own. They were pawns, if anything. It should have frightened her, but she knew too much about the King Tree to fight it. Her role had been cemented long before she'd even known her purpose here.

"If that is the case," said Talon, "then we will will begin planning the ceremony immediately. Claire has enough pressure on her shoulders. She doesn't need more. She doesn't need to rule over the Sprites."

"Talon." She sighed and reached for his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. He wrapped his fingers around hers and held on, not allowing her to let go. "We have more pressing matters at the moment. We're here to reclaim Squall's End, not plan a bonding ceremony."

He looked as if he wanted to argue, but gave a curt nod instead. "Once we've seen to that, of course."

She hesitated, then said, "Koldis, Reyr, and the others should be here in a few days. Have the Dwargs arrived yet? What of our plans and progress? Where do we stand? It looks as though you've only just set up camp."

"We have. The Dwargs should reach the coast tonight, if they haven't already. Bedelth will depart with a small covey. He was preparing to leave when you arrived."

She smiled at Bedelth. "I'm glad I caught you beforehand."

"As am I, Your Majesty."

She almost corrected him. Almost. But instead, she took a deep breath. Talon's Shields never called Talon by his first name alone, except perhaps when they were outside formal settings, and they'd known him for hundreds of years. Why would they do so for her?

"We've already sent our operatives out on foot. It will be approximately a week before they reach Lake Plymlet. We sent them in smaller groups disguised as travelers. Their packs carry the poison. They were forced to travel light. Very little in the way of provisions."

She nodded, taking in his words. Still a week to go before the dragons began consuming the brews that Desaree, Saffra, and Jocelyn had put so much effort into. "And then...three days after that we expect to see the results?" She'd heard enough from Reyr to fill in the details.

"Correct. That is when we will reclaim Squall's End. Free it's people. Take the fort."

She glanced at Byron and Tamara. They sat at the opposite end of the table. Tamara caught her gaze and held it. She'd...matured since their last encounter. Then again, Claire supposed they'd both changed since the time they'd walked arm in arm through Brezen's camp. Had there been any other choice?

And yet...the change looked good on her—made her look wiser, harder, older.

She glanced around the table again and sighed, preparing for her next words. "We cannot pin all our hopes on the current plan. As much as I wanted to come here simply to see everyone, Taylynn sent me for a reason." Talon snorted. She lifted a questioning brow in his direction, but he said nothing. She knew what he thought of the meddling Sprite princess. "While your plan with the klixite and dragon's bane appears sound, we cannot rely on it. Taylynn has foreseen this. We were sent, myself and my Queen's Guard, to infiltrate and protect the people in the city. To insure they come to no harm. Continue with your preparations and consider us a...safeguard."

It took a moment for her words to sink in and then—

"No. Absolutely not." Talon's hand tensed in hers. It was a command, one given with the expectation of being followed. "We will not risk you."

"Talon, this is not up for discussion," she said. "My guards and I are perfectly capable of protecting the city's people from dragon fire. It would take but a single dragon to destroy thousands. We cannot let that happen."

He held her gaze and the rest of the tent fell away. What was it about him that captivated her? His intensity. That's what it was. Pure intensity. While others in his kingdom wanted to look anywhere but their king, she couldn't tear her eyes from him. "Fine," he snapped. "We'll discuss the particulars later."

"No, we will discuss them now. And you won't change my mind. I am not the same girl who left Kastali Dun because yes, you are right, that girl could not be risked. That girl was not capable of what this girl is." At her words, a fierce wind ripped through the camp, hissing through the tent. It was so strong, so powerful, it snuffed out all the flames in the braziers. Its roar drowned out the world, even as cries of confusion and fear rose up outside, throughout the camp. Talon's eyes widened; his body tensed, ready to spring forward to meet some unknown enemy. The tent was cast into darkness. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared. With a single thought, the source of their light returned, flames in the braziers, but now they burned green.

Talon stared at her—just stared. The others around the table gaped more openly. Feowen chuckled, as if he'd been waiting for something like this to happen, expecting it, even. Then Bedelth began to laugh, his deep draconic rumble breaking the tension. "Not the same girl indeed," he said. He stood and placed a hand over his heart. "Well, my queen, if you have no further need of me, I should be going. With nightfall upon us, we must fly fast to reach the rendezvous point with the Dwargs. Dallin?"

The young Drengr twitched then jumped to his feet, also offering her a bow.

"Of course," she said, looking between them. "I will not delay you any longer. Fly safely, Bedelth, Dallin. May the wind be strong beneath your wings."

"And yours, Your Majesty." They both turned to King Talon, offering him respectful bows before disappearing through the tent flaps.

Saffra watched Bedelth go, a strange look on her face, but said nothing. They'd had absolutely no time or privacy to catch up. When she and Talon had returned to the command tent after their too-many-kisses-to-count, everyone was already sitting around the table waiting. Talon had simply walked her to her place beside the head where he was currently sitting, and pulled out a chair for her. In truth, she'd almost been glad. What little energy she'd arrived with had fled in the quiet moments she'd spent with Talon. Either that, or he'd simply kissed it from her. Likely the latter.

She sighed, giving in to the exhaustion that dragged at her. The journey here had been tiring but not as much as the thoughts of what was to come. That alone threatened to overwhelm her.

"You need rest," Talon mused, as if reading her mind. "May I dismiss everyone now, Your Majesty?" His eyes sparkled, but otherwise, he kept his expression blank. She almost laughed at his brazen request.

"Yes, I believe we may conclude for the night."

"Well?" Talon said. "You heard her. Her Majesty needs her rest. You can all catch up with her in the morning." She caught the undercurrent of his meaning, as did the others.

She offered Desaree, Jocelyn, Saffra, and Tamara a warm smile by way of an apology. They stood, nonetheless. Desaree hesitated though, perhaps wanting to stay, to fret over her. But Saffra whispered something in Desaree's ear and ushered her away.

She blew out a breath and slumped in her chair.

Gods, was she being a horrible friend? She felt like it. And yet, she was so utterly exhausted. If she allowed herself time with them, she'd want to hear all their stories, and her body couldn't take another moment of excited conversation.

"Shall I summon your handmaidens," Feowen asked, hovering near the tent flaps. Selphie and Meira, he meant.

"No, Prince," the king growled, answering for her. "I will take care of my queen. I assure you, I am perfectly capable." Feowen hesitated then nodded, offering her a final glance before he too disappeared. Suddenly, they were absolutely and completely alone.

Talon poked his head out of the tent and said something to the guards. She heard retreating footsteps; he'd sent them away. She frowned, but didn't question it.

"Come, my queen." His gaze heated. He took her hand and helped her from the chair, leading her through one of the flaps that revealed a generous sleeping area. There wasn't a cot, but the floor was piled with furs and pillows. She wanted to collapse. "I know your handmaidens probably do this sort of thing for you," Talon teased, "but, may I?" There was a need in his gaze, a hunger that pierced straight to her heart. She nodded, staring at the furs longingly. Her eyelids were heavy, and she strained to keep them open.

Talon set about undoing the straps that held her Sprite blade and Sverak in place, carefully setting them off to the side, but not before he hummed with interest at the Sprite blade. Then he busied himself with the buttons along the back of her gown. As his fingers worked, she noticed that her belongings had already been brought in, including Pelwyn's bow and arrows, which leaned against the tent wall. "I've a nightgown in my bags," she managed, with little energy to add much else.

"Mmm." His fingers brushed her shoulders and the Spriten gown fell away, leaving her completely bared to him. Cold air kissed her skin, pebbling her nipples. She almost groaned when his fingers traced some of the marks along her back. "Beautiful," he murmured. Then his hands found her shoulders and his lips found the back of her neck where he kissed her.

She sighed and leaned back into him. So good—it felt so good to be here in his arms, to have his hands on her. Only her. To claim his attention when it was demanded by so many. And yet, he'd always been this way with her, entirely focused as if no one else, nothing else but her, existed.

He's mine, she reminded herself. Entirely mine.

A tiny bit of her exhaustion melted away, especially when she felt the generous length his arousal pressed against her back. "Why am I naked when you're not?" she huffed, teasing.

"A fine point, Your Majesty. Shall I undress for you?" He'd been using the title regularly, but not as a barb. He said it with fondness, as if he couldn't wait for her to be his queen, even if it grated him that she'd been made a queen of the Sprites, first.

She turned to stare at him. "Well, I assume you don't plan on sleeping in that, do you?"

He barked a laugh and scrubbed a hand over the scars on his face. "Truthfully? I hadn't planned on sleeping at all. There are matters that—"

"I should have guessed. But no, not tonight, Talon. Tonight, you are mine. Only mine."

She saw the shiver her words brought. His hands dropped to his sides. He made a sound in the back of his throat that sent tingles straight down to her toes. While they couldn't seal their bond until the ceremony—as much as she was plenty fine with sealing it here and now—they could still share a bed.

"You're right, of course, Your Majesty. Tonight I will try for some sleep," he amended. Sleep? She hoped he'd try for other things too, because if he didn't, she certainly would. Wicked thoughts flooded her mind. A second later, she was decided.

"That's good to hear," she said, inching forward. "May I?" The itch to touch him was driving her mad. She wanted to put her hands on him—everywhere. She wanted to see what her attention would do to him. Wanted to watch him lose control—though, perhaps not entirely, since she didn't want his dragon form bursting free, destroying their command tent.

He gave a tiny nod. She began undoing the straps and belt that held his weapons. Each of her movements was slow. She kept his gaze as she lifted his tunic over his body, as she pulled at the ties of his pants and let them fall to the ground. He stepped out. She looked at him then, studying him like she'd done that day they'd gone swimming on Irelia Island. Only this time, she was less furtive about it. Instead, she allowed her eyes to drop, feeling her cheeks heat at the sight of him bared before her.

"Do you like what you see, Queen? Am I...worthy?" His voice was husky, and yet, there was an edge of...uncertainty. She wanted to say yes, except she couldn't form a single word. He stepped forward, lifting a questioning hand. She nodded, giving him permission to touch her, only just realizing he'd left the tiara on her head and she'd left his crown. Two rulers, come together.

He ran his fingers down her chest before circling her nipple with his thumb. Her core blazed to life. A gasp fell from her lips. His eyes darted up, sparks dancing in his sliver depths. She saw the hunger in his expression. Here in the dim green light of a single brazier, it danced with a ferocity to match the desperate beast lurking beneath his skin. His other hand went lower, tracing over her stomach, alternating between his fingertips and his knuckles. She was nearly trembling beneath his touch, so vary aware of every sensation, but she held still, afraid that if she moved even a centimeter, he'd stop. Lower still his torturous hand crept while the other continued to stroke at her breast, to trace frustrating circles, overwhelming her with a growing need.

His gaze stayed fixed on her face, devouring each of the emotions playing out over her features. And then his hand went lower still. Her lips parted. She could stop her desperate gasp when his fingers brushed between her legs, confirming that she was just as aroused as he was. "Claire," he growled. "Tell me to stop." He brushed his fingers over her again and she quivered. But she wouldn't—couldn't ask him to stop. She was aching for this, for him.

So he didn't.

His face crumbled when he pushed a finger inside, teasing her. That expression did something to her heart. Something beyond the pure pleasure of it, beyond the desperation that left her quivering.

This scarred and broken king had never believed she would want him. Now, as she allowed him to touch the most sacred place on her body, his face illustrated his wonder. Eyes bright and engaged, lips parted, brows knitted. He couldn't believe it. Somehow, despite everything they'd been through, Talon still couldn't fathom where his hands were.

It broke something open inside of her, even as he slipped his finger out and pushed it back in. She gasped, reaching out to cling to his broad, muscled shoulders. "You are worthy of me, Talon. You are worthy," she whispered, digging her fingers into his skin.

Her words brought a dragon's growl from his lips. "You are mine," he said, putting a king's force behind the words. He removed his finger, wrapped both hands around her waist, circling her, pulling her against him to bring their mouths together. His lips were hungry and far from gentle. She wanted that. She wanted his strength...his ferocity.

She matched him, twisting her fingers into his hair, pulling hard enough to be painful. Everywhere their bodies touched, heat sizzled between them, making her core flutter, making her toes curl in the rug beneath her feet. His hands went to her thighs and he hoisted her up. She anchored her legs around him. They both gasped then. His chest rumbled, purring.

He removed their crowns, gently setting them aside, then laid her on the furs and blankets that now felt more like a nest than anything. A nest for a dragon, and she, his prize. The thought almost brought a laugh. Instead she put her hands on his chest and gave him a small push. He broke their kiss, breathing hard, eyes darting over her face. "Too much?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"No," she insisted. If anything, not enough. But she wasn't here to please herself. Not at this moment—not tonight. "You've had your turn. Now it's mine."

At first, he just gazed at her. She gave him another firm push, indicating that he should lie down. He did, watching her with a hooded gaze, devouring her. But there was something else there too, a nervousness she'd never sensed in him. Talon, nervous? That was a rare thing. She would break him of that, she would show him he had nothing to fear from her. "Very well my queen," he said, his voice a low dare, "do your worst."

"I plan to," she answered, looming over him, enjoying the feel of his gaze as he devoured her body. She began placing kisses at his neck, simple, butterfly light caresses. He groaned, a hand reaching for her hair, tangling in it. Her core heated from the sound. Gods, he was already this responsive and she hadn't even moved lower yet. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes. He'd one arm propped behind his head, angling it to better see her. She licked her lips and his eyes darted there immediately. "You will tell me to stop if...if it's too much—?"

"I would never tell you to stop. Touch me anywhere."

"Oh, good." A smirk crossed her face. "I plan to. Everywhere, in fact."

He swore under his breath. "I don't deserve you," he croaked at last.

She huffed, leaning down to plant another kiss on his chest, atop one of the scars there, then said, "No, you're right. You deserve so much more than even I can give. But I will give you everything, nonetheless." She caught his gaze then, his look of utter disbelief at her words. She didn't wait for him to argue. Instead, she began kissing each scar on his chest and then his stomach until he was growling beneath her, until his bulk of muscles flexed repeatedly, until he was whispering curses beneath his breath. Slowly...ever so slowly, losing control.

What did it take, she wondered, to bring a king to his knees?

This time she nipped at his skin. He swore again and twitched against her, tightening his fingers in her hair, rubbing circles on her scalp with his thumb. She knew exactly where she was going, what she planned to do, but she feared it would be too much for him, that he might stop her even if he claimed he wouldn't.

Sinking lower still, she kissed his muscles, nipped at his skin, letting her hands brace on his thighs as she knelt between his legs. The hair on his skin was corse. There weren't any scars here that she could see.

When was thoroughly worked up by the frustrating ministrations of her lips, she took him in hand, gripping him firmly. His hips bucked. "Gods, Claire," he rasped. That brought her eyes to his and a grin to her lips. But she held him tightly, hard enough to tell him he wasn't going anywhere. Not now. Not at this point.

Her mouth watered. What would he taste like, this dragon of hers? His eyes didn't leave her as she licked up his length and took him into her mouth. He bucked again and groaned, devouring the sight of her through his hooded gaze. There was so much playing out on his face. Disbelief, wonder...pleasure. This. This was exactly what brought a king to his knees—this king, at least. The most powerful king Dragonwall had ever seen.

He was hard as iron, unyielding. She lapped at him again before taking him in deeper. Gods, he was delicious. A long groan rumbled from his chest and she felt him tense before his hips flexed again and again, his control breaking. Nothing—nothing in the world had ever come close to this kind of power. To this kind of...satisfaction. Every single motion she made brought the best kind of progress. So close, she had him so close.

There in their nest, she brought Dragonwall's king to his knees. "Claire," he rasped. "I'm...Gods!" She kept her eyes on his. On the pleasure etched into his features. That alone transformed his face into something more beautiful than she'd ever seen. Never—never had she witnessed an expression like this on him. His hips flexed again and she felt him tense for the final time before he shattered beneath her grip, across her tongue.

But she didn't stop. Not yet. She continued until he was panting and falling, down, down, down, from his high. Only then did she at last pull away, satisfied in a way she could have never imagined.

***

"I shouldn't have been so selfish," Talon growled in her ear as he rubbed circles along her skin. Tracing her marks, she realized. He like tracing them with his fingertips the way she liked tracing his scars. She was now sprawled across his chest, completely exhausted but in the most satisfying way. They were still naked, covered in furs and buried in the bedding on the floor. She hadn't let him play with her after she'd finished with him. Her exhaustion had well and truly caught up with her.

But it was more than that.

She wanted Talon to understand that she'd done this for him. Done it without asking anything in return. Especially after seeing the way his face had cracked earlier when she'd first arrived in his camp, believing she'd chosen the Sprites over him. She needed him to understand what he meant to her. Beyond words, this was the way she'd wanted to prove that. It seemed he now understood.

"There was nothing selfish about it," she murmured against his skin. "Tonight was for you. Besides, I got exactly what I wanted."

"Hmm. What was that?"

"Pleasure. Pleasure at seeing you undone before me, my king. Pleasure at pleasing you before myself. Pleasure at worshiping you."

His breath hitched. "Claire—"

"Hush." She lifted a hand and placed her fingers against his lips, resting her chin on his chest to look at him. "Believe me, there will be plenty more opportunities for you to have your way with me."

"You're impossible," he huffed, dragging her up his body until their lips aligned. "Utterly impossible. And frustrating. Maddeningly so. But you're also brave, and kind, and strong. You're beautiful, inside and out. You're powerful. You're...everything. You will make a good queen. You do make a good queen."

Tears pricked her eyes. "Thank you, Talon." Her throat closed up.

"While you were gone..." he sighed, his gaze darting between hers. "It was..."

She waited. Opening up was something Talon was never good at. But she knew what he was trying to say.

"It was hard for me too," she whispered, settling back on his chest. "Extremely hard. I missed you all the time. I worried for you."

She felt his exhale against her cheek. "I do not know if I can do it again. Ever."

She hesitated, knowing what she wanted to say. That they wouldn't have to. But she couldn't promise that. Nothing about their future was certain. Instead, she settled on, "When we are together, we will always make the most of it." That, at least, she could guarantee.

"We will, indeed. Now...sleep, my queen," he rumbled. His arms tightened around her. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of him. Smoke and salt and everything Talon. It was the last thought on her mind before she drifted off, the smile on her lips never quite leaving. 

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Happy Friday, Bookdragons!

Ahhhhh. This might be my favorite chapter of the whole book. Writing it, and reading it. I loved getting to explore Talon's character a little. I loved diving into his emotions during the intimate scene. Seeing the wonder blossom within this scarred king who's always believed himself ugly. Seeing the disbelief, as the woman of his dreams brings him to his knees. It was so SATISFYING for me. 

Hopefully the intimate scene wasn't too intense for those of you who aren't fans of sexual content in books. And for those of you who are, hopefully it met your expectations. I realize it's hard to please everyone. I always KNEW I would have some very intimate scenes with C+T even though I never planned to sprinkle them everywhere like confetti. When I dreamed up this story, some of their intimate scenes together were the first ones I imagined. So it is important to me to include a few of them. Obviously the bonding ceremony, when it comes. 

Given that we've waited a whole book for their reunion, I hope this met your expectations, and possibly even surpassed them.

Anyway, enough about that. There are three chapters left, and they are all SHORT. This was the longest last chapter we have, just about 5000 words. I plan to post the next three chapters up today. 

All my best,

Mel