His face went carefully blank. “Sex rarely has anything to do with—”
“Being inexperienced doesn’t make me stupid, or gullible. Is it better?”
“What?”
She smiled at him. “Your hand. The redness has eased.”
“It’s fine.” He drew it away. In fact there was no longer any burning. “You learn quickly.”
“I do. Learning is a passion for me. I’ll tell you what I’ve learned of you, when it comes to me. You love me.” Her lips were softly curved as she brushed at his hair. “You might have taken me last night—in fact you would have, with less resistance—if it had been just for sex. If it had been only need, only sex, you wouldn’t have taken me with such care, or trusted me enough to sleep awhile with me.”
She held up a finger before he could speak. “There’s more.”
“With you, there tends to be.”
She rose, straightening her clothes. “When Larkin came in, you did nothing to stop him from striking you. You love me, so you were guilty about taking what you saw as my innocence. You love me, so you’ve watched me enough to know one of my favorite places. You waited for me there, then you brought me here because you needed me. I pull at you, Cian, as you pull at me.”
She watched him as she sipped water. “You love me, as I love you.”
“To your peril.”
“And yours,” she said with a nod. “We live in perilous times.”
“Moira, this can never—”
“Don’t tell me never.” Passion vibrated in her voice and turned her eyes to hellsmoke. “I know. I know all about never. Tell me today. Between you and me let it be today. I have to fight for tomorrow, and the day after and into always. But with this, with you, it’s just today. Every today we can have.”
“Don’t cry. I’d rather have the burn than the tears.”
“I won’t.” She shut her eyes for a moment, and willed herself to keep her word. “I want you to tell me what you’ve shown me. I want you to tell me what I see when you look at me.”
“I love you.” He came to her, gently touched her face with his fingertips. “This face, those eyes, all that’s inside them. I love you. In a thousand years I’ve never loved another.”
She took his hand, pressed her lips to it. “Oh! Look. There’s no burn now. Love healed you. The strongest magic.”
“Moira.” He kept her hand in his, then laid hers against his chest. “If it beat, it would beat for you.”
Tears stung her eyes again. “Your heart may be still, but it isn’t empty. It isn’t silent because it speaks to me.”
“And that’s enough?”
“Nothing will ever be enough, but it will do. Come, we’ll—”
She broke off when she heard shouting from outside. Turning, she rushed to the window, drew back one of the drapes. Her hand went to her throat. “Cian, come look. The sun’s low enough. Come look.”
The sky was full of dragons. Emerald and ruby and gold, their sleek bodies soared above the castle like flashing jewels in the softening light. And their trumpeting calls were like a song.
“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
When his hand laid on her shoulder, Moira reached up, clasped it. “Listen how the people cheer them. Look at the children running and laughing. It’s the sound of hope, Cian. The sound, the sight.”
“Getting them here, and getting them to be ridden, and to respond in battle like warhorses, two different matters, Moira. But yes, it’s a beautiful sight, and a hopeful sound.”
She watched as they began to land. “In all your years, I imagine there’s little you haven’t done.”
“Little,” he agreed, then had to smile. “But no, I’ve never ridden a dragon. And yeah, damn right I want to. Let’s go down.”
There was still enough sunlight that he needed the bloody cloak in open spaces. But despite it, Cian discovered he could still be enchanted and surprised—when he looked into a young dragon’s golden eye.