A Queen of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 4)

I shuddered as I tried to take a deep breath and wiped the perspiration from my forehead as I sank deeper into my chair at the dining table just outside the galley. Finley and my mother were within view, because I needed to see them right now.

I hadn’t thought to ask Finley about the euphoria. The heat had been getting more pleasurable for me, more intense, so I hadn’t thought much of it when she said the same was true for her. I’d forgotten she knew so little about shifters and even less about dragons.

It had been going on for nearly a week.

“How are we doing?” Hadriel slunk in, somewhat bent over and with his fingers entwined. He glanced at the women silently making their brews, then grimaced at me. “Are they getting along any better?” he whispered.

My mother was being a little overbearing. She had good reason for it, though. If Finley was with child…

My child…

My dragon moved within me, impatient. Hopeful. Incredibly protective, not wanting Finley or her dragon out of his sight. He’d nearly lost his mind in the battle earlier. He couldn’t stand to see her moving away from him, potentially putting herself in danger. His need to wrap his wings around her, shield her from anything that might hurt or upset her, tore at us every second. Every moment. Even now, I wanted to pull her over here and wrap her in the protection of my arms. I wanted to head back home and lock her in that tower. I’d stay there too, guarding the door.

The emotions were crazy. Illogical. So fucking intense I could barely think straight. And yet I wanted them. I wanted the power they brought, the crystal-clear focus when she was near. I wanted the enhanced intimacy of her touch and the glorious tranquility I felt when I was at her side, ensuring nothing could harm her.

I tightened my fingers where they lay entwined on the dining table.

“They are ignoring each other at the moment,” I murmured.

“Oh good. That’s better than yelling at each other like earlier. Though…” Hadriel leaned his elbow on the table, propping his face in his hand, and leaned toward me. “Not allowing Finley near a stove is a bit overboard. Can we agree on that? Not allowing her to battle, yes. That makes sense. Not allowing her plants and elixirs, the one thing that calms her? Hmm.”

“My mother is worried Finley doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation. She’s worried she’ll do too much and hurt herself and the…possible baby.” My heart started to hammer and butterflies exploded through my stomach. “Finley was raised among wolves and other shifters that have an easier time getting pregnant. She doesn’t realize how lucky we are and how quick it was. Possibly was. Dragons are hardy, but they aren’t invincible.”

“Ah ha.” Hadriel put up a finger. “Not to worry. I have asked Vemar to go get Hannon. Her brother is probably the only one that can talk sense into her. Remember the fight they had about bringing the whole family instead of leaving them in the castle?” He paused and narrowed one eye at me. “Hannon won. He said they’d be safer here, protected by our best people, and everyone in the family came. Before that, they were yelling at each other and everything. But Hannon won. He’s your best bet, I think. Don’t worry, I took care of it.”

He turned away and clasped his fingers to mimic my pose. I couldn’t tell if he annoyed the shit out of me or was a good type of distraction. The question would probably always remain.

Finley sprinkled herbs into a pot.

“I thought you’d want to know, sire,” Hadriel went on. “The demon ships sank. Both of them. The wolves weren’t needed, as you know, but neither were the cannons from our ships. Which you also probably know, since you haven’t heard any cannon fire. The only problem is, there are bodies and debris floating all over the place. Body parts, too. The dragons are trying to burn any floating wood, but the wood is wet now, so…that’s not going well.”

I nodded. There wasn’t much they could do about that. This situation would never have disappeared without a trace. But Dolion had no proof who’d done it.

“The wolves are annoyed, of course,” Hadriel said, back to looking at the women finishing their brews. “They wanted to help. They felt left out. I took care of it.”

“And how did you do that?” I asked, raising my brows.

“I told them the truth. If they’d been brought to the barbecue, they’d have ended up roasting on a spit or drowning. When there were still some grumbles, I mentioned that dragons are so crazy, they’d piss on the flames to put them out. So charred and pissed on, or a watery grave. Neither of those options were very appealing to them.”