Katie MacAlister: The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

“Well . . .” A thought occurred to me, one that would ease my conscience at the idea of sneaking around behind Baltic’s back and yet might well serve to achieve a much-desired end. “If you aren’t willing to talk with Drake and the other wyverns again about them releasing Thala, then perhaps I can. Or rather, perhaps I can talk to May and Aisling. And Cyrene, of course, although . . . did it seem to you that something was a little off in Kostya and Cyrene’s relationship when we ran into them last week?”

“Something is most definitely off with Kostya,” he growled.

I patted his knee. “Personal judgments aside, I got a feeling that we had interrupted an argument. I wonder . . . no, that doesn’t really matter. What was I saying? Oh, if I talk to Aisling and May about Thala, I’m sure I could get them to see reason. They don’t want a war any more than we do—wars are dangerous things, and they don’t want their respective loved ones in any danger. I’m willing to bet you that they can go a lot further in convincing their wyverns to release Thala than you can. After all, it was you the weyr was after, and now they’ve met you and seen you’re not the madman they thought you were, so they really have no reason to hold Thala prisoner.”

“I will not have you put in any danger,” he said stiffly.

“May and Aisling?” I asked, not bothering to finish the question.

He harrumphed. “I concede that neither of the mates is likely to harm you, but I do not trust the wyverns.”

“You trust Gabriel with Brom,” I pointed out.

“That is because no wyvern would attack a child. My son will be safe with the silver wyvern. My mate is a different matter.”

“I’m not proposing to stay with Gabriel, just have a little talk with May and Aisling. And I think I’ll call them when we get home and set up a lunch tomorrow to meet with them.” I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but I’m no actress. My voice sounded stilted and filled with the knowledge that we’d already set the meeting time. Luckily, Baltic was still considering the subject of his second guard, Thala.

“I do not like it, but if you insist on trying, I will not prevent you,” was all he said before he and Pavel turned the discussion to the best ways to infiltrate the house where Thala was being kept.

It wasn’t until that night that I had time alone with him.

“Where’s Pavel?” I asked as I set a deliciously scented beef bourguignon down in front of him.

“He will not be here for supper. He has gone to see a friend,” Baltic answered, holding out a chair for me.

I started to sit, but looked up quickly. “A friend? A romantic friend, you mean? A guy romantic friend?”

Baltic frowned at me as he took his seat. “No, female. I told you he did not have a preference as to gender.”

“Oh, a girlfriend. Drat. And you can stop giving me that look. I’ve told you for two months now that I don’t have bizarre sexual desires, and have absolutely no wish to participate in a threesome with Pavel or anyone else.”

“That is good, because I have changed my mind about allowing you to watch when Pavel is with a male partner. I have discussed the matter with him, and although he was willing, I have decided it is not seemly in my mate to be aroused by the thought of males with other males.”

“I’ve told you and told you that it’s just mildly interesting!” I slammed down the spoon I was about to use to serve him. “By the rood, Baltic, I’m not a sex-crazed pervert!”

“I never said you were.”

“No, but you’re implying that because a girl likes a little spice now and again, she’s a whack job. And I’m not. You know I am more than happy with our sex life.”

The irritated look on his face slid away to one of smug satisfaction. “Yes, I know. Last night you shouted your pleasure so loudly it almost deafened me.”

“Oh, I did not. Don’t exaggerate,” I said briskly, serving us both. I paused in the act of passing a bowl of salad, remembering the events of the night before, and a little flush warmed my chest. “Although I have to say that I highly approve of your use of the feathers. That was very inventive.”

He allowed a small smile to curl the corners of his mouth. “It was something I read in a book. I had wished to try it with you before that bastard Constantine killed you, but was unable to find suitable feathers.”

“Speaking of Constantine,” I said slowly, pausing to savor a mouthful of the bourguignon.

“We weren’t.”

“Yes, we were. You just mentioned him.”

“Mentioning someone is not the same as speaking of him. I do not wish to ruin my digestion by speaking of that murderous traitor.”

“Well, we’re going to have to risk that, because I want to talk to you about him.”

Baltic set down his fork and shot me a penetrating glance. “Why do you wish to do so? Are you fascinated by him the way you are with thoughts of Pavel and males? Do you regret me taking you from Constantine’s side? Do you wish I were he?”

“For the love of the saints, Baltic! Get over the thing with Pavel already! As for Constantine, no, I don’t regret anything. Well, that’s not true. I regret hurting him when you claimed me as your mate, but that was much of his own doing. And even if I did regret you de-mating me from Constantine, which I absolutely don’t, it wouldn’t matter because he’s dead.” I paused a moment. “He is dead, isn’t he?”

Baltic’s eyes narrowed. “I did not kill him, if that’s what you are asking.”

“It’s not, and stop giving me dragon answers.”

“I am a dragon. I answer. Thus I give—”

“Argh!” I yelled, slamming both hands down on the table. “You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you? You’re trying to piss me off so I won’t go back to the subject you don’t want to talk about, but it’s not going to work, Baltic. You may be able to distract me other times, but not now. Not when it’s something this important.”

He looked completely outraged. “Why is Constantine so important to you? I should be the only one who is of that much importance in your life! Excepting Brom, and I allow that he is of primary importance as well. But other than him—”

“I cannot wait for you to stop being so damned insecure!” I yelled.

“I am not insecure! I simply wish to know why my mate is lusting after other wyverns!” he yelled back.

For a moment an image came to my mind’s eye: a man so overwhelmed with grief, he had dropped to his knees at the memory of his love, his anguish swamping everything around him. Instantly, I was on his lap, holding him tight to me, tears wetting my lashes as I kissed his face. “My love, my only true love, never have I lusted after anyone but you. Not in the past, not in my dreams, not even in those fantasies you consider so outrageous. I chose you in my other life, and I chose you in this one, as well.”

He allowed me to comfort him, not saying anything, but his grip on me was as hard as steel. Although I had treated the subject with some lightness when speaking to Brom, the truth was that Baltic’s emotional scars ran so deep, I began to wonder if they would ever heal.

Dinner was forgotten as I did what I could to provide a balm to his aching heart. It wasn’t until after he had allowed me to love him—dragons, I had found, are dominant even so far as intimate relations are concerned—that I felt comfortable again broaching the subject.

“Baltic, stop sleeping. I want to talk to you,” I told him, prying myself up from where I had collapsed against his chest.

He cracked one eye open and considered me with some annoyance. “I have just pleasured you within an inch of your life, or so you claim, and now you wish to talk? My Ysolde—”