Eyes burning, she whispered, “What sort is that?”
“A man who will never give up fighting for those I love. Even unto death, I had every intention of coming back to protect you. But it is not only you. I love my people, too. And today, I learned to love yours. Never will I give up on them. So I am a man with the heart of a king.”
So he was. Tears slipping down her cheeks, she whispered, “You think you never truly had me?”
“I know I did not, for if I had, you would have never doubted whether I would come for you. Not for a moment would you think I might hurt you.” Maddek turned her to face him, cupping her tearstained cheeks in his big hands. “I know not what challenges and dangers we will face as we complete Vela’s task, but I know this: from all that I have learned, never will I look at you again without a clear view. And you will always know that I’ll come for you. Do you have any doubts?”
“Not one.”
“So it matters not what will come at us as we build this alliance against the Destroyer. No matter what lies we are told, no matter what occurs—after all we have been through, there is nothing now that could tear us asunder.”
Nothing at all. With happy tears, she told him, “So much I love you.”
His dark eyes flared hot, and he lifted her against him. “Then ride with me, my warrior-queen. Into battle we will fly.”
So gladly she kissed him. And this battle they fought in the same manner as they would every battle to come.
As one.
EPILOGUE
Maddek found Yvenne atop the Syssian wall. Not since their wedding night two years past had they been up here, yet it was not those sweet memories she was reliving, he knew.
With arms wrapped around herself, she watched a group riding north, away from the city. So many people they loved were among that party—her brother Tyzen, who would try to persuade the rulers of northern realms to join their alliance. Kelir and Ardyl had also gone with him as her brother’s primary guard. And Seri, who would have followed them even if she had been forbidden to—so the young warrior had been given permission instead.
Maddek circled his arms around her waist, pulled her back to his chest. “You have prepared them well.”
As she had so many others sent out to the many realms. So hard she’d worked in the past years, first rebuilding the alliance nearer to home, seeking those who were willing to go with the message that they would all need to stand together, to ask the realms what was needed, and to promise that when the time came, all would converge and ride against the Destroyer. To those groups, she had told them everything she knew about the people they would encounter on their journeys, the queens and kings they must persuade—all that her mother had told her.
“So hard this is,” she whispered. “They will be so far away, out of our sight—and we will have no way of helping them, when trouble they face.”
And certainly they would. Maddek’s quick laugh rumbled out. “This is what it must be like to have children.”
She laughed, too, then bent her head back for a kiss, sighing softly as he moved his lips to the side of her neck. “Perhaps I should have gone, too.”
“You are where you should be, my warrior-queen,” he said, pinching her earlobe with his teeth, and with his sword hand he drew up the silk skirt of her robe. “You are the burning heart of this new alliance. They may fly far, but always they will know where to return for strength and for help. And so hot the heart of you is.”
His fingers stroked through her wetness, and she trembled against him. “Maddek,” she breathed.
“A fierce Dragon you seek to make for the western realms,” he said, lifting her and sliding deep, so deep within her scorching embrace. “An alliance to protect all within, an alliance of claws and wings and fangs and sting.”
She cried out as he pumped into her, deeper and deeper. “And armor.”
“And armor,” he echoed, his grunts harsh in her ear, his cock hard as steel within her. “For when the Destroyer arrives, these Dragons will gather and serve as a guard for all that we love—and you will be the burning heart.”
As she was his.
Her back arched and she writhed upon him, then he held her so tight as they flew together. With ragged breaths they came down, and she turned within his arms, buried her face in his chest.
“So much pain the Destroyer left in our parents,” she whispered. “And so much has passed to the children. I would never want our daughters and sons to know the horror that the children who lived through his terror did.”
Because so many young ones were taken and enslaved, to serve in his army. “I would not, either,” Maddek said thickly. “But we will defeat him.”
She nodded against his chest, then pulled back slightly to withdraw a vial that she’d tucked into the linen wrapping near her wrist. The half-moon milk, that she’d taken in small doses as warriors did to force their menstrual blood to flow. For the past two years, they had traveled hard and often throughout the realms that made up the alliance, so she had not risked becoming pregnant again.
And because, he thought, of what she had just said. They would wait until the Destroyer was defeated.
Except now she tossed the vial over the side of the wall.
His warrior-queen looked up at him, her moonstone eyes shining. “The Dragon we gather will stop him.”
So Maddek believed, too. “This is true.”
“No. But we will make it true.” She drew him down for the sweetest kiss. “So this is hope.”
Turn the page for a special look at the next Gathering of Dragons book by Milla Vane
A TOUCH OF STONE AND SNOW
Coming Summer 2020
LIZZAN
Many an innkeeper had woken Lizzan by tossing a bucket of water in her face. This morning marked the first time she was doused awake by a tree.
Or perhaps it was midday. When she sat up, sputtering, the source of the light filtering through the jungle canopy seemed too high for morning—and seemed too bright for eyes unshaded by sobriety. Though judging by the pounding in her head, she was nearly sober.
A sad state that Lizzan would soon remedy.
She uncorked the flask that was always as near to her hand as her sword—and was doused again when another broadleaf overfilled with rain and tipped out its burden.
The deluge poured over the top of her head. Sputtering again, her black hair hanging wetly around her face, Lizzan contemplated the effort of leaving the base of the tree where she’d made her bed. But all around her, the canopy dumped water as if making wet war on the world below, and many leaves were much larger than those above her. She would be no drier if she abandoned this spot.