The Dragon's Bride by Elle Beaumont & Elle Beaumont

Author:Elle Beaumont & Elle Beaumont
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Midnight Tide Publishing

* * *

After lunch, Ronar ventured back to the stable to prepare his horse. He scanned the aisle for Gyda, but she wasn’t there, and neither was her piebald horse. Turning back to his gelding, he finished tacking him up. When he was done, Imara entered the barn, ready to go.

“Just one horse?” Imara asked.

Ronar led the horse out of the barn, then mounted with ease. He extended his hand to Imara with a smile. “Consider this my way of easing you into sleeping next to me.” He teased and shook his head. “If something should happen to you, it would be easier to have you riding with me.” He grinned widely. “And if something happens to me, just roll my carcass off to the side and find some flowers to sprinkle over my body.”

She huffed in response, then grabbed his hand so he could pull her up. The heat of her body passed on to him, and the warmth brought a well of desire. He yearned to brush the hair from her nape and leave a trail of kisses from there to the shell of her pointed ear. But this was no time for that, and as she settled in front of him, he clucked to the horse, and they were off.

As they rode on, it was strange to see the sudden mark of where the blight had spread. The upper meadowlands still thrived; late autumn blossoms danced in the soft breeze, the same breeze that caught Imara’s scent and surrounded Ronar. But as they descended further into the meadow, it was clear they were entering tainted land. For the moment, Ronar focused on just the feeling of his arms around Imara, and it was enough to relax him for the time being.

When they were almost there, Imara broke through the silence. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll search elsewhere. There are more Dragon Masters out there than just myself, and our knowledge runs deep. We are ancient collectors who spend most of our time searching for and hoarding literature, new and old. If I must reach out to other masters, then I will.”

“I didn’t realize you still spoke to the other masters.” Imara turned her head, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Ronar chuckled. “Well, my darling, I don’t need to divulge every little thing to you now, do I? I never cut ties with the others, and though they’re dispersed throughout, we still keep in touch. Just like the other dragons in Brynjar. They do call me Dragon Master for a reason,” he offered pointedly.

As much as Ronar longed to jest with her, whatever remark was left on the tip of his tongue withered away the moment they faced the valley in all of its devastation.

Death swallowed life, and the same teasing breeze that had previously blown fresh air against them turned into something stale and putrid. Trees that had stood, clinging on to life just a day ago, were now dead and charred.

Imara sucked in a breath.

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