Bedelth the Orange (Dragonwall Series #5)

Chapter 30 - Forevermore

Kastali Dun

Talon passed from one moment into the next as if in a fever dream. Perhaps he was dreaming. His queen in her gown, looking up at him with such love and adoration, filling his arms as they danced—it couldn't be real. Perhaps he was stuck in a cruel reality where everything he wanted was merely a figment of his imagination. Where any minute, he would wake to find his world empty. Lifeless. Cold.

Hadn't that been his reality before she'd come? A drab world where his days bled together, each as cruel and monotonous as the last? She'd broken that vicious cycle, sweeping in, bringing color and warmth. An explosive energy that transformed him. Even his mood swings had dwindled. Gone was his unpredictable temper, and in its place, a measure of control he'd never known.

No, a measure of peace.

"I could dance with you all night," Claire breathed, her face close to his, eyes gazing deep into the depths of his soul. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, her pulse jumping in her neck.

"Oh?" His chuckle was drowned out by music and merriment surrounding them. "But then I'd never get to unwrap you from that pretty gown. Believe me, I'm already salivating over the taste of you."

"Is that what I am? A present?"

"A gift," he clarified. "One I intend to enjoy thoroughly, over and over." Her lips parted. He was enjoying this. He spun her in a circle, pulling her back to him, pulling her tight, then leaning in. Brushing his lips over the shell of her ear, he said, "I can't wait to hear all the little sounds you'll make for me, my queen."

He felt her gasp against him, pulling back with a wicked grin. He swept her around again, in a quick motion that left her wide-eyed. The music slowed and came to a stop. Everyone clapped, some dispensing to find refreshments, others reforming for the next dance.

Reyr appeared beside them, extending his hand. Talon turned and growled. "She's mine tonight."

Reyr barked a laugh, and Claire watched the two of them with sparkling eyes. "You won't even allow me a single dance, Your Grace?"

"No one touches her but me," he warned. Reyr's lips twitched with amusement. "Go tell her line of admirers to find other partners."

"Talon," Claire scolded. Another song was beginning. "It's only a dan—" Her words died in a squeal as he swept her back into his arms, all but dragging her into the next dance, a faster turn that didn't leave room for talking. She giggled.

"Everyone is going to talk about how stingy you are," she pointed out. His stomach fluttered. He loved when she spoke into his mind. He couldn't wait to share hers. He half wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her out. Or better yet, a darker part of him—the place his beast lived—was ready to strip her down here and now, bend her over the nearest table.

His skin turned molten. "Gods above, woman. I'm on a short fuse."

"Then why are we still dancing?!" she demanded, stopping abruptly in the middle of the dance floor. He was forced to stop with her. Couples scattered around them. A mischievous gleam lit her eyes.

"Why indeed?" he said aloud, eyeing her, bracing himself for whatever trouble she was about to cause.

She spun towards the front of the hall and held up her hands, signaling to the minstrels. Their playing immediately ceased. Silence swept through the room like a wave, starting on the dance floor and moving out towards the perimeter, where tables sat occupied, laden with food and drink. She threw him a bold glare before addressing their audience. "It has come to my attention," she announced, "that my mate is rather impatient to get on with...things."