Page 125 of Under Restless Skies

“I bet you think it’s charming.”

He leans down and kisses my cheek. “Considering everything about me is charming, I’d say yes.”

“Ugh. You’re such a pompous, arrogant jerk.”

He leans over me, caging me with his arms. “Tell me you love this jerk, then.”

“Tell me you love me first.”

He kisses my neck, right where it hurts. “So demanding. I just antagonized my father to propose to you, and now you want to play a game of who says I love you first? I love you, Mayara.” He looks me in the eye. “See? It didn’t hurt.”

“I love you too.” My voice sounds oddly weak.

His lips touch mine, and what’s a gentle touch at first turns into a long, passionate kiss. Then his knees shove my legs apart and he’s inside my sleek walls, our dance slow, our rhythm unhurried.

We spend a long time lying down after we’re done. Then we head to his washroom, where we enter the bathtub, the cool water sending a shock through my body.

Alayel laughs. “I need cold water. For days. Or I won’t stop.”

I sit on him, my legs straddling his body, even if I’m shivering. “Do we need to stop?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe we don’t?”

I grind against his crotch until I feel him stir and harden beneath me, and then I reach down and guide him inside, sinking onto him with a soft exhale.

The dress doesn’t stay put, but I do my best.

Alayel is naked, leaning on the wall. “You know I can forbid you to leave, right?”

I kiss him on the lips. “Do you want to order me, Your Highness? Tell me to leave and I’ll obey you.”

He shakes his head. “Fine. Go. Sleep with the little dragons and ignore your future husband.”

“I’m not ignoring you,” I protest.

He rolls his eyes, but then pulls me for a kiss.

I can’t go to the hatchling’s room dressed like this, so I rush up to the dorm, where I find Celine and Nelly getting ready for bed.

“Something wrong?” Celine asks.

“Everything’s fine,” I mutter.

“Congratulations, Mayara,” Nelly says.

“Thanks. I just need to change,” I explain. Then I put on the dress I use to sleep, and descend to the dungeons.

The hatchling’s room is silent when I enter it. Too silent, an odd quietness that agitates my heart.

“Ava? Vos?” My voice is shaky, and I feel the weight of the walls closing in on me, almost suffocating me.

They need to get out of this room, but I’ll have to be sure that they’ll be safe.

“Ava? Vos?” I ask again, as I search behind pots and rocks.

I finally find the dragons lying down in the darkest corner, their little bodies so still. Too still. A chill seizes my chest as I crouch to touch them. Vos stirs, and I exhale, and then Ava wiggles and turns her head, her pretty blue eyes settled on me, as if asking for something.

I pick them both up, one in each arm.