Page 18 of A Drop of Venom

I found I could envision the scene quite easily, more easily than I had ever pictured myself as a mother. In fact, it made me smile and feel something warm and hopeful in my heart.

The questions of if and how, of course, remained.

Since my grandmother had taught me to be prudent, I’d already gathered the herbs from the forest I needed to brew the tea that ensured any seeds Terolon might plant wouldn’t take root in my womb until the time was right—if it would ever be. I’d dedicated a section of my herb garden to them, along with other medicinal plants. If Terolon knew the purpose of those herbs, he didn’t speak on it.

“Why are you smiling, my shelshi?” Terolon asked late one afternoon, his voice soft.

I lay in his coils as he ran his claws through my hair, gently working out tangles and cleaning away bits of leaves and twigs. He loved to tend to my hair after a day of gardening, either with his claws or my comb or brush, and his gentle touch had lulled me into a nap more than once.

I opened my eyes. He was upright on his coils and leaning over me to block the sun’s glare, and his expression was so tender and full of love that it made me ache.

And it was that ache combined with the yearning and hunger that had grown steadily for weeks and the sense of the waning days of autumn that made me decide to say what was in my heart.

I reached up in a silent invitation. He sank down, adjusting his coils so he could press his sun-warmed cheek against my hand and gaze into my eyes.

“I love you,” I said, the words falling easily from my lips.

He stared at me in stunned silence until I couldn’t help but smile at how nonplussed he appeared.

“Hazel,” he rasped finally, his amber eyes growing bright. “Athava. My sweetness. My mate. I love you with all that I am.”

I drew him down for a long, gentle kiss and rested my other hand on his chest. His hearts raced under my palm.

When he raised his head, his expression had become one of wonder. “Goddesses be blessed,” he said reverently. “I am surely their most favored son today.”

I stroked his face, running my fingertips over textures and shapes that had become as familiar to me as my own features. “What does a female of your people call her mate?”

“Shelshi is acceptable for all,” he said roughly. “It is not a gendered word. But also shelshan can be used playfully, as it means my great mate—great as in size, not greatness of worth,” he added quickly when my lips quirked.

I ran the pad of my thumb over his lips. “Shelshan,” I murmured.

He closed his eyes and made a guttural sound. A shudder ran down the length of his body, making his muscles shift and roll in a way I’d never felt before. And the intriguing hard bulge below his human waistline suddenly had a dark line down its center, as if the scales would part along that seam for something to emerge.

Well, that answered one of my questions…at least somewhat. I quivered, feeling drops of wetness travel along my sex as I imagined what might be hidden beneath his beautiful scales.

But before I explored those mysteries further, I had to ask my shelshan to put his full trust in me as I’d done with him.

“Terolon,” I said, my hands cupping his face. “Look at me.”

His eyes opened and his tongue flicked the air. He shuddered again. “Shelshi,” he groaned. “Your scent…”

“I know.” I caressed his face. “I want you. You know I do. But first, I need to know something.”

His expression now grave, he lowered his upper body, slid his arms under me to cradle me against his chest, and touched his forehead to mine. His bulge pressed very noticeably against my leg, but I refused to let it distract me.

“You need to know why I left my home and came here to your kingdom,” he said softly. “Why I have no clan.”

“Yes.” I caressed his face, hoping he could feel my reassurance as clearly as I felt his love and care for me. “You cannot abide my pain. And I cannot abide yours. Tell me, my mate.”

He shivered in my grasp. “How I’ve dreamed of hearing you call me yours.”

Gently, he settled us more comfortably until we lay face to face on his coils with his arms around me. I rested one hand on his chest over his hearts and the other on the back of his neck so I could stroke him there with the side of my thumb.

“I was the eldest child of the king and queen, co-regents of Izaelon,” he said, the words pouring out in a rush as if this was the most difficult secret he had to share and he wanted it over with quickly.

Stunned, I gaped at him, my caresses losing their rhythm before I regained my composure. “You’re a prince?”

“I was, long ago.” He managed a fleeting smile. “The first-born of five siblings, designated from birth as heir to the throne, with all the privileges and wealth that came with such a station.”