Page 125 of House of Ashes
I glared at my Ascendant.
She blinked. “Oh. You did it wrong, didn’t you?”
“No, Myst.” A sigh escaped me as I buckled on my sword-belt. “It went very right, except for the part where…where I was hoping for a bond to form. I should probably thank Larivor that it didn’t. Gods know how long we’d survive each other if we were bound together.”
“‘Hoping’ isn’t enough,” she said severely. “You must impress your will on the bond to form. Honestly, child, were you paying any attention at all in your lessons?”
I couldn’t listen to this right now. “I have to go. We need to send an emissary to the Jade Leaves and hope that they’ll still have us.”
“Hope.” Myst rolled her enormous quicksilver eyes. “Hope, hope, hope. When will you stop hoping, Serafina, and start executing? Bend the world to your will! Don’t simply hope for it to work for you. No dragonblood ever won a war or a mate by hoping.”
I left without another word. I had wanted her to be here, to offer her guidance…and her guidance was exactly what I needed.
It just wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
I found Rhylan in the library, standing over the map-table, his hands clasped behind his back. He stood with military straightness, head bent as he examined the new pieces on the board…and I very much wanted to run my fingers through his thick, dark hair, to greet him with a kiss and my arms around him.
“Did any news come in?” I asked briskly, ignoring my fingers’ impulse to reach out and touch him.
He had moved a golden pawn-like piece to Everael, the eyrie of Undying Light. I picked it up and saw it was carved in the shape of a tiny wyvern.
“Kirana should be there by now,” he said quietly. I returned the wyvern-piece to Everael, examining the rest of the board.
Another golden piece had been placed on Orisien, eyrie of the Lunar Tides; we were evenly numbered with the iron pieces symbolizing Yura and Tidas, which covered Talariel, Iliador, and a small, unmarked spot on the map, well to the south.
“This is for the Bloodied Talons, right?” I asked, touching the last pawn piece. I couldn’t remember the name of the Bloodied Talons’ eyrie, if I’d ever known it to begin with.
“Yes. I don’t believe they’ve returned to their ancestral eyrie, though.” Rhylan frowned at the piece. “Viros had a few reports from the wyvern-riders. It looks like Kalros took exile to heart; his dragons seem to be operating as vagabonds, going wherever Yura needs them the most. I don’t like them not having a home we can count on. They could be anywhere.”
I sighed. “I wish I’d had the foresight to make allies of them first.”
Rhylan glanced at me from under dark lashes. “Make allies with the dragon who wanted to force you into a mate bond?”
My mouth twisted in a sneer. “Better that they die in my service than hers.”
Surprisingly, Rhylan let out a quick, harsh laugh. “Myst was right. You are in a foul mood today.”
I scowled. Of course my Ascendant had warned him in advance. How very loyal of her.
“I’d volunteer myself to cheer you up,” he murmured, leaning in to speak in my ear, “But I think you’d claw my eyes out if I suggested what I had in mind.”
The feel of his lips against the shell of my ear was…distracting. I remembered all the other places his lips had been recently, and I felt a blush rise that I was powerless to halt.
“Like I can’t keep my own claws in check,” I scoffed.
“Not to mention we’d ruin the map.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he ran a finger over the rim of my now-pink ear. “You’re glowing.”
“Stop that this instant.” I pushed his hand away, not wanting to be drawn back into his playfulness, which would lead me right back to his bed.
“I don’t think so,” he growled, slipping an arm around my waist and pinning me against him, my back to his chest. “I gave you your five minutes, Sera, but now you’re back in my territory. And I want…” He nipped my ear. “To watch you…” His lips moved over my cheekbone, down to my throat, drawing an involuntary gasp from me. “Squirm while you know you can’t escape me.”
I felt him harden against me, his hands tangled in my hair to pull my head back. His lips moved over my neck, nipping just hard enough to make me pant for breath, holding back the cry I wanted to let loose.
He had trained me well last night: when he demanded sound, he meant it.
“And now that I’ve got you right where I want you, you’re going to godsdamn listen.”
He pushed me forward over the table, hand still fisted in my hair, thick shaft pushed up against my ass. He leaned with me, covering my body and pinning me to the table.