I have to focus on breathing to control my body’s response. She’ll need the balm the bargainer demons keep on hand for their humans. Something I should have considered when I was last in Azazel’s presence.
That’s when she whimpers.
It’s a sound filled with absolute terror. I tense, immediately searching the room for a threat, but of course there’s nothing. I would have noticed the moment something trespassed into my immediate territory. Not even the incubi or succubi with their smoke forms would be able to fool my senses. Not here.
Briar whimpers again. Her lips form into a near-soundless word. “No.”
I reach for her but stop short. Nightmares are strange creatures. Sometimes waking is the answer, but sometimes it makes things worse. I don’t know which side of things Briar falls into. I hadn’t thought to ask.
Helpless frustration rises with every twitch, with every wounded-animal sound she makes. Haunted. That’s what she called herself. It’s easy to forget during our waking hours when she’s doing her best to charge forward in a way that’s so sweet, it makes my teeth ache.
She found my presence comforting before. Perhaps it’s enough to ward off the worst of her nightmares. At this point, lying here and waiting her out is all but impossible. If I were one of the incubi, I could slip into her dreams and fight whatever threatens her there. Even bargainer demons have more power in this kind of situation than I do, though they can only dream-hop if they have some incubi in their family history. Unfortunately, I’m constrained to the physical.
I turn onto my side, facing her, allowing my weight to dip the bedding between us. She slides closer. Another shift, and she’s pressed against my chest. That should be enough, but I can’t stop myself from shifting my tail over her thighs and against her back, urging her closer yet. Wrapping her up in me. Briar gives one last exhausted little sigh, and then she appears to fall into a dreamless slumber.
I don’t sleep at all.
It’s only when dawn creeps across the sky outside the window that I slip from the bed. I pause to tuck the blankets more firmly around her and get dressed. Then I duck out of the room and stride down the hall. There isn’t a permanent portal open between the keep and Azazel’s castle, but we have an open correspondence, courtesy of my previous visits.
Hopefully I can get this errand finished and be back before Briar wakes.
My study is exactly as I left it…except for the giant pile of paperwork that seems to have bred overnight. I know damn well if I hadn’t sent away Aldis’s assistants and staff, it wouldn’t be so bad, but the mating frenzy is looking more likely in the cold light of morning. It’s better for everyone that Briar and I find our feet without an audience.
What if we never find our feet?
I ignore the doubt threatening to worm through my brain and jerk open the top drawer. There is the scroll I bargained hard with Azazel to gain possession of. I have to force myself to slow down, to be gentle, as I pick it up and unroll it on the only clear part of the desk. It’s magic, but that doesn’t mean it’s indestructible.
It takes a few seconds to scrawl out my request. I tap my claws on the desk, waiting for the reply. Azazel—or whoever he has monitoring communications—doesn’t make me wait long. The reply comes in two minutes later.
I’ll send Ramanu.
I glare at the words, but they don’t change no matter how little they please me. Ramanu is an irritation, and they’ll take one look at me and Briar and know exactly how far our relationship has escalated. Which they’ll promptly report back to Azazel.
But if they bring the spell and the balm, I suppose that’s a fair enough price to pay.
I stare at my desk for several long moments, but it’s quickly apparent that I won’t be concentrating on anything while I wait for Ramanu to arrive. More, I don’t like having left Briar alone in bed. What we have feels fragile and easily shattered. She trusted me last night, and I won’t do anything to endanger that.
The problem is that all my knowledge of humans comes from limited interactions and books older than any dragon currently alive. Our people have changed significantly in the intervening generations. No doubt the humans have as well. I don’t know enough, which means missteps are all but assured.
I shove to my feet and stalk out of the office. Better to be there when she wakes. Better not to backslide or give her time to doubt what happened between us. If I’d been thinking clearly, I never would have let things spiral so out of control, but I stopped thinking the moment I had my hands on her, and when I tasted her…