Love in the Time of Dragons

Chapter Seven

Silence filled the conference room as every person — every dragon — looked at me. I shivered, rubbing my arms against a sudden chill.

“Lucky me. I’m out of it for five weeks, lose my job, learn my husband is a rat to beat all rats, and now I find out that evidently I’m the girlfriend of a homicidal maniac. Is that it? Is that all you guys have to hit me with? Because I’m not quite over the edge yet.” “There is the matter of who held Kostya prisoner in his aerie for seven years,” Cyrene said thoughtfully. “No one seems to know for sure who captured him there, but I think it was your mate, so by rights, you should be charged with that, too.” “Thank you,” I told her. “That did the job.” Before anyone could react, I spun around and started for the nearest exit. I didn’t make it, naturally, but I knew I wouldn’t.

Kostya was there at the door. “You will not escape justice again, Ysolde de Bouchier.” I slapped him. It felt so good, I slapped him again, then stepped back, my hand over my mouth because I’d never struck another person in my life.

That I could remember.

Well, there was nailing Baltic in the groin, but that was just a dream.

“I’m sorry,” I stammered, horrified. “I don’t know what came over me. Not that you didn’t deserve it, because if anyone deserved to be slapped, you did, but still, I’m shocked that I actually struck you. Did I hurt you?” Cyrene screamed and ran toward us, clearly about to launch herself at me, but Kostya caught her before she could attack.

I just stared at them as she struggled to get free, cursing me roundly as she fought him, my eyes filling with tears. I’d never felt so alien, so alone, so completely out of my depth. I just wanted to sink into oblivion.

“Sit down,” Kostya told Cyrene when she had worked out the worst of her swearing.

“She struck you! Twice! No one hits my dragon and lives to tell about it!” “Go sit down,” he commanded.

“No!”

“Cy, it was an open-handed slap,” May said as she took her twin’s arm and forcibly steered her toward the table. “I’m sure Kostya will survive it.” “I’m very sorry,” I told him again.

To my surprise, rather than look angrier with me, he rubbed his abused cheek and looked thoughtful.

“Ysolde?” Gabriel indicated the table. “I believe since the subject of the blue dragons’ deaths has been broached, you would be welcome at the sárkány table. Perhaps we can discuss the issue more calmly.” “I’m not at all a violent person,” I told him, allowing him to escort me to a chair he placed on his other side. “I can’t even spank my son.” He said nothing, just held out a chair for me.

“You must understand that the weyr does not seek to punish an innocent person,” Bastian said, taking charge of the meeting again. “But there are laws that govern us, and as Kostya said, one of those laws holds that wyverns’ mates are held accountable for the actions of their wyverns.” “What about other dragons?” I asked, too weary to be incensed.

Bastian looked confused. “What other dragons?” “What about a normal dragon’s mate, a non-wyvern. Are they held accountable, too?” “No,” he said, frowning.

“Why not?”

Silence fell on the table. Drake cleared his throat and answered, “Wyverns’ mates are unique in dragonkin. They have power of their own, and are accorded a place of honor in the sept second only to the wyvern himself. Mates always support the wyverns’ decisions, and thus the law was set into place recognizing that position and power.” “Let me make sure I have this straight. You all think that because I was alive two months ago, unaware of any of you, unaware of Baltic, unaware of anything but doing my job as an apprentice for Dr. Kostich, and being a wife and mother, you seriously expect me to believe that I am guilty of the deaths of sixty—” “Sixty-eight,” Bastian interrupted.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to make light of that tragedy. Where was I? Oh, you want to hold me responsible for the deaths of dragons I didn’t even know existed in the first place? Is that what you’re saying?” Drake’s gaze dropped. Gabriel and May exchanged uncomfortable glances. Kostya coughed softly and scowled at the table. Bastian looked into the distance. Chuan Ren smiled at me, showing far more teeth than was called for.

“Do I want to know what the punishment is for killing sixty-eight blue dragons?” I asked.

No one looked at me. “The punishment for a crime of such a heinous nature outside of a declared war is death,” Bastian said at last.

“Lovely. You want to kill me for someone else’s crime. That certainly sounds like justice to me.” No one said anything to that bit of sarcasm, either.

I thought of fighting, thought of running away, thought of damning them all and just letting them make me a scapegoat, but something inside me finally reached a breaking point.

“There is something going on with me,” I said slowly, looking again at my fingers spread on the table. “Much as I want to deny it, I am willing to admit that I have some sort of a connection to this person named Baltic. Despite that, no one can deny that I am human, and it is for that reason that I do not, cannot, will not admit that I am the dragon named Ysolde. However, if any of you can prove to me that I am, if you can show me that what I’m experiencing is due to a dragon hiding inside of me, then I will acknowledge the laws of this weyr, and will accept the punishment for the deaths of those dragons.” That got their attention. They didn’t look happy, though.

“That seems reasonable to me,” Aisling said, nudging her husband with her elbow. “Of course you want proof that you’re really Ysolde. We’ll just have to show you that it’s so. I’m not sure how we’ll go about doing that other than giving you time to find yourself, so to speak. That’s only right and fair, especially since the weyr is asking you to give up your life. Doesn’t it seem fair to you, Drake?” His frown cleared. “It would seem that such a demand is not unreasonable given the circumstances. What say the other wyverns?” “I agree wholeheartedly,” Gabriel said quickly. “Ysolde must have proof. She must be easy in her mind that she is who we know her to be. It would be a gross misinterpretation of the weyr laws to condemn her without her acknowledging her dragon self.” “I agree,” Bastian said, a bit to my surprise since it was his sept members who had been killed. I thought if anyone would have wanted to see me condemned, it would be him. But he actually looked relieved, and turned to Kostya. “What do the black dragons say?” Kostya pursed his lips as he looked at me.

“I think she needs to be smacked upside the head,” Cyrene muttered. Kostya shot her a glare, then said, “I am influenced by the memories of what Baltic did to the black dragons because of Ysolde. Long have I sought to see her pay for the pain and suffering she caused us for her treachery with Constantine Norka—” “She was a silver dragon,” Gabriel said abruptly. “She agreed to be his mate. That can hardly be said to be treachery!” Kostya leaped to his feet, his face red with anger. “Baltic wanted her for his mate!” “Then he should never have handed her over to Constantine, saying he didn’t want her!” Gabriel shot back, jumping up as well.

“Oh, that makes me feel good,” I said softly.

“That discussion is not pertinent at this time,” Bastian said, pounding on the table with his fist until the two dragons retook their seats. “Kostya, how say you?” He sat down with a huff, his arms crossed, his expression black. “I will agree to a temporary stay so long as it’s for a reasonable amount of time.” I was taken aback by his agreement. That left one wyvern.

“Chuan Ren?” Bastian asked her.

“The red dragons don’t care what happens to the woman,” she answered. “Kill her, or do not kill her, it is of no concern to us. We are only interested in the whereabouts of Baltic.” “Why do you care where he is?” May asked.

Chuan Ren just smiled again. It wasn’t a pleasant smile.

“We are agreed, then, that Ysolde should have time to… what?” Bastian asked, looking puzzled. “How does one find oneself?” “My mother says the dragon inside her is waiting to be woken,” Gabriel said. “That is what must be done.” “But how do you go about doing that?” Bastian shook his head. “I’ve never before met a dragon who didn’t know he was a dragon, who wasn’t able to be a dragon.” “I think I may know of a way to do that,” May said thoughtfully. She sat up a little straighter when she realized all eyes were on her. “There is a house in the country that belongs to Baltic.” “It is mine now,” Kostya interrupted. “I have claimed it on behalf of the black dragons.” “That’s right, we have,” Cyrene said. “It’s a bit too big as houses go, and needs a lot of redecorating, but it has a nice pond. Kostie says we can dig up the garden to enlarge the pond into a small lake.” Kostya gave his mate a thin-lipped look that she ignored.

“When I bore the dragon shard, it caused me to react quite strongly to the house.” May’s gaze turned to me. “It actually had me feeling things that I believe you felt while you bore the shard.” “I bore a shard?” I asked, refusing to cope with one more bizarre thing. “A shard of what?” “A dragon shard, one of the five pieces of the dragon heart.” I closed my eyes for a minute. “Is the dragon heart something that’s going to make me completely lose the tiny shred of sanity I’m holding on to? Because I have to tell you, if it is, I think I’d rather just not know about it.” May laughed. “It’s not that bad, honest.” “The dragon heart is made up of five shards. Each of the wyverns here possesses a shard,” Gabriel told me. “For a while, May bore the same shard that you bore. Just as she did, you successfully re-formed the dragon heart — imbued with the power of the First Dragon — and allowed it to reshatter into five pieces.” “That sounds very clever of May and me, and I’m thrilled to bits to hear it despite the fact that I don’t have the slightest idea of the significance of any of that, but so long as it has no bearing on whether or not there is a dragon curled up inside me, I’m willing to move on.” “Brava,” Aisling said, applauding until her husband scowled at her.

“I take it you think that if I were to go to Baltic’s home—” “My home! It belongs to me now!” Kostya said.

“Pardon me, Baltic’s former home, that it would somehow prove I’m a dragon? Will I start setting things on fire? Burst into scaly lizard form? Suddenly become fascinated with gold?” I asked, too tired to mind my manners as I should.

“Judging by what I felt when I was there, yes, I think you’ll have some sort of a definitive experience,” May said.

“But Ysolde doesn’t bear the Avignon Phylactery anymore,” Kostya said.

May slid an unreadable smile toward her wyvern. “No, but I can attest to the fact that once you’ve borne a shard, it changes you. I’m sure it changed Ysolde, too.” “It sounds like a good idea to me,” Aisling said.

“With Kostya’s permission, we will take you to the house in question tomorrow,” Gabriel said. “You will not, I hope, mind if May and I accompany you?” “I will be there as well,” Kostya said.

“Oooh. That sounds interesting. Can we go?” Aisling asked Drake.

He raised his eyebrows and looked at Gabriel. “We have no reason to, but if Gabriel — and Ysolde — have no objection, I admit that I am curious to see if the house does have some effect on her.” Gabriel stated a time, and everyone agreed to meet at the house. I sat back in my chair, drained by the emotions I’d been through in the last few days, wanting nothing more than… I sighed to myself. I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore, other than peace of mind.

I expected to dream that night, and I did. I closed the door to Brom’s room after seeing him settled for the night, wished May a pleasant evening, and stepped into my room, and straight into a maelstrom of testosterone.

“You are too late, Baltic,” the man who stood in front of me taunted. “Ysolde has spoken the words. She has sworn fealty to me. She is now my mate.” I stepped to the side to look around Constantine. Baltic and about ten men emerged from the trees that formed a gentle curve around the cliff top where we stood, Kostya and Pavel immediately to his rear.

Instantly the silver dragons pulled their swords, surrounding Constantine and me.

“Is that true?” Baltic asked me, his expression as stormy as the sea that raged behind us.

I took a step forward, but Constantine put his hand out to stop me. “You will address me, and not my mate. Ysolde is mine. You will never have her.” “Why are you here?” I asked Baltic, shrugging off Constantine’s hand and pushing past his guards. They made a move to stop me, but fell back when I glared at them.

“Why do you think I’m here? I came to claim my mate,” Baltic answered, his eyes glittering darkly.

“Your mate? You said you didn’t want me. You said you would never have anything to do with a silver dragon,” I cried.

“I said I would never bed a silver dragon,” he corrected. “I have since changed my mind. You are my mate. I sent a messenger telling you I would come to claim you as such.” “I know of no messenger!” I said, shocked and horrified.

His expression darkened. “I should have known that Constantine would claim you for himself rather than let you be mine.” “Ysolde, my dove, let me deal with this,” Constantine said, his voice warm and rumbly and comfortable just as it had been for the three months while I had been with him in the south of France.

I spun around to face him, suddenly filled with knowledge that left me furious. “You knew he was coming for me, didn’t you? You knew my heart was breaking, and still you kept his message from reaching me. By the rood! That’s why you pressed me to make the oath to you! You deceived me!” “You are my responsibility,” Constantine said, taking my hands in his.

Baltic positively growled. Kostya, his eyes on the silver guards, held him back.

“I promised to care for you that first day when you were given to me,” Constantine continued. “I could not help but love you, my precious dove. Can you blame me for wanting you as my mate?” How stupid I’d been. How stupid and naïve, falling for the honeyed words and the promise of a lifetime of being loved, when in reality, I was being used as an instrument in a war that had raged for two hundred years. I pulled my hands from his and backed up, sickened by the way he’d fooled me. The guards looked to Constantine, but he lifted his hand to stop them. “You told me I was the one meant to be your mate, but all the while you knew Baltic was coming for me. You watched as I pined for him, pined for the love I would give my soul to have, and yet you bound me to you? Why?” “I love you,” he said, his eyes glowing with a strange golden light. “How could I let the one thing I love more than life itself go to a madman, a monster who would destroy our sept rather than let us live in peace?” I couldn’t look at him any longer. “You say you love me, and yet you ensured that I would spend the remainder of my days a shadow of what I could have been.” Constantine reached out for me, but let his hand drop before he could touch me. “You are merely confused, Ysolde, not truly in love.” “How do you know?” I lifted my head to glare at him. “How do you presume to know what’s in my heart? You won’t even listen to me! I told you that I loved him, Constantine, and you just told me he would rather see me dead than alive.” “You—” he started to say.

“No,” I said, cutting him off with a sharp gesture. “I know my own mind and heart. I love Baltic. If he had asked me to be his mate, I would have accepted.” Baltic smiled, a slow, smug smile.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not furious with your high-handed dealings,” I told him over my shoulder.

His smile slipped a notch.

“Even knowing what he is, knowing what he’s done to our people, to your own family, you would bind yourself to him?” Constantine asked, his voice reflecting the anger now in his eyes. “You would let him use your body, taint your soul?” I met his gaze, my own steady. “I would do what I could to bring calm to this troubled time.” “You swore fealty to me,” he answered.

“What choice did I have?” I countered. “You deceived me!” He was silent for a moment, pain flickering across his face.

“If only you had told me the truth,” I said softly, putting my hand on his arm. “I have great respect and affection for you, Constantine. You are a wonderful wyvern, and a generous, loving man. But much as I honor you as such, I would never have pledged myself to you if I had known the truth. You tricked me into becoming your mate simply to spite the man who holds my heart. How can I find happiness with you knowing that?” Baltic stepped forward. “Constantine Norka, by the laws governing the weyr, I challenge you by lusus naturalae for your mate, Ysolde de Bouchier.” Constantine and I both stared at him.

“Lusus what?” I asked.

“Naturalae. It has many meanings, but to dragonkin, it applies only to one thing — the ability to steal a mate,” Constantine answered, eyeing Baltic with palpable hostility.

“It is not stealing if I win the challenge,” Baltic said, striding forward. At a gesture, all of his men but Kostya remained standing where they were. Likewise, Constantine nodded at his guard, who gestured the others back. The dragons spread out until they formed a loose circle, in the center of which the five of us stood. “Do you accept the challenge?” “I do,” Constantine said, his stance aggressive. “Ysolde is young and confused. She has not yet had time to adjust to our ways. I am convinced that with time, she will realize what a tragedy her life would have been if she spent it with you.” “I dislike being spoken of as if I weren’t standing an arm’s length from you,” I told him somewhat acidly. “I am not invisible, nor am I witless. This is my life you’re talking about, and I demand the right to have a say in it.” “You are female,” Constantine said abruptly. “You are young and inexperienced with the ways of dragons. You will allow me to decide what is best for you.” “I am the one who found her,” Baltic said arrogantly, swaggering forward until he stood a foot away from us. “I will decide what is best for her, and that is to become my mate.” “Does no one think it is a good idea for me to decide what’s best for me?” I asked.

“No!” both wyverns said.

I crossed my arms and looked daggers at both of them. “I think you’re both obnoxious. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want either of you. I’ll take Kostya instead.” Kostya’s eyes widened in surprise and something that looked very much like dismay. “Er…” “Are you trying to make me jealous?” Baltic asked, irritation pulling at his lips.

“No. If I were, I would do this.” I walked toward Kostya, but he evidently read the intention in my eyes because he backed away from me. I stopped, stomped my foot in irritation, and demanded, “Stop running away from me and let me kiss you!” “I’d really rather you didn’t,” he said with a wary glance at his wyvern.

“Ysolde,” Baltic said in an even, almost disinterested tone of voice.

I marched over to him, narrowing my glare until it could have sharpened the edge of his sword. “What?” “You don’t have to attack Kostya to make me jealous, chérie,” he said, the irritation in his face replaced with wry amusement. He gestured toward Constantine. “I’m ready to fight him to the death for his audacity in claiming you. I don’t think I could get much more jealous than that.” “Oh.” I thought about that for a moment, then took a step closer to him, not quite touching, but close enough I could feel the heat of his body. I looked deep into his eyes, searching there for the answers I so desperately sought. “You really want me for your mate even though I’m a silver dragon?” “Yes.” A muscle in his neck twitched.

“Why?”

His eyes took on the same wary look Kostya’s had just borne. “Why?” I prodded his arm. “Yes, why? Why do you want me for your mate?” “Eh…” He looked from me to Constantine, who was standing watching us with a black scowl. Baltic squared his shoulders and leveled a haughty look at me. “That is unimportant. Only the fact that I have claimed you should matter.” “It matters to me,” I said, and put my hand on his chest, over his heart.

Behind me, Constantine took a step toward us.

“You are female. You do not know what you’re saying.” “By the rood, I don’t. Tell me, Baltic. Why me?” “Because,” he said, his eyes glittering darkly. “Just… because.” “Do you love me?” I asked.

His jaw tightened. “That is none of your business.” I laughed; I couldn’t help but laugh at him. Love in marriage was only a dream, my mother had once told me, and yet I knew she loved my father. She had also said that some men have difficulty admitting to such tender emotions, and clearly Baltic was one of them.

“I think it is my business. It’s important to me, Baltic. I would like to know — do you love me?” He stepped closer until his chest was pressed against my arms. “This is hardly the place to discuss such a thing.” “I think it’s the perfect place,” I said, gesturing at all the dragons, hesitating a moment when I noticed that every single one of them wore expressions of pain identical to the one on Baltic’s face. “I must know. I will not bind myself to a man if he doesn’t love me.” “That’s foolishness,” Baltic scoffed, and the dragons scoffed with him, murmurs of agreement rippling around us.

“Nevertheless, I must know. So I ask you a third time — do you love me?” He looked around wildly before leaning in. “There are others here, woman!” “I know.”

“You expect me to say it right out in front of them?” “Constantine did,” I said, nodding toward him. Constantine straightened up and looked noble. “He didn’t have any problem saying it.” Baltic growled deep in his chest, rolling his eyes heavenward for a moment before he said in a low and ugly voice, “Fine! I love you. Now get the hell out of my way so I can kill your mate.” I don’t know what I would have done had Constantine not attacked Baltic at that moment — probably tried to reason with them, although hindsight tells me they wouldn’t have listened. It is moot speculation, regardless, because the second the words left Baltic’s lips, Constantine’s body shifted, stretching and growing and elongating into the form of a silver-scaled dragon with scarlet claws. He flung himself at Baltic with a snarl that left my blood cold.

Baltic shifted as well, but his form, slightly smaller and less bulky, was ebony colored, with curving translucent white claws that flashed in the air as he lunged at Constantine.

Teodore, one of Constantine’s guards, tried to restrain me, but I shook him off and stalked forward to where the two dragons were rolling around on the ground, blood arcing in the air as one of them struck true.

“Stop it!” I yelled, my hands fisted in impotence. I wanted to strike both of them back into their senses. “I will not have th—” Constantine’s tail lashed out as he threw himself forward onto Baltic, who just barely rolled out of the way in time. I screamed as I was knocked backwards several yards. Instantly Constantine was there, in human form, leaning over me and cradling my head. “Ysolde! My dove, my cherished one — have I harmed you?” Baltic shifted back into human form as well, jerking Constantine off me and onto his back, the glittering silver point of a sword digging into his neck.

“You have lost your mate, your sept,” Baltic said, panting, “and now your life.” “No!” I yelled, leaping up as he raised his sword overhead, clearly about to cleave Constantine’s head from his body. I threw myself forward over him, looking up at Baltic. “Do not kill him.” Baltic’s eyes narrowed on me. “You have a change of heart?” “No. I will be your mate. My life is bound to yours from this moment forward. But only if you spare Constantine.” His jaw worked, and for a moment, I thought he would refuse. But slowly he lowered his sword, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. “By the grace of my mate, I will let you live,” he told Constantine. “But only because she desires it.” The sight of Constantine’s face haunted me as Baltic led me away.