Wildfire Sea Dragon (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew Book 3), page 6
The Prince seemed to be having no such difficulty. Words poured out of him in a frantic torrent. “They didn’t tell me—I didn’t realize—I should have come to find you straight away. I’m sorry.”
His fingers twisted in her unbound hair—and stopped. A deep anger lit in his eyes, but it wasn’t aimed at her.
He let go of her, turning to address someone behind him. “You took her honor tokens?”
“She assaulted a member of the Imperial family!” Lord Azure blustered. The Imperial Champion loomed behind him, his expression impassive. “It is high treason to raise a weapon against the Pearl Throne.”
“She hit me, not the entire concept of hereditary imperialistic monarchy,” the Prince snapped. “Which also deserves to be smacked over the head, but I digress. You should be grateful she hit me. Trust me, if she hadn’t, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
“The individual formerly known as Seventh Novice—” Lord Azure started.
“She is Seventh Novice.” The Crown Prince’s voice sliced across the knight’s like a sword. “Though you damn well should have knighted her on the spot for her service to the Throne, not stripped her of her rank, armor and honor. You will return them. Now.”
Lord Azure’s nose flared in outrage. “With all due respect, Crown Prince, you overstep your authority. Traditionally, not even the Pearl Throne may interfere with the private business of the Order of the First Water.”
The Prince grinned. Not his lazy grin, or his flirty one, or his teasing one. This one was weaponized. Lord Azure actually took a step back.
“Lord Azure,” the Prince drawled. “Have you ever heard anything about me that makes you think I give a flying fish for tradition?”
Lord Azure hesitated. His eyes cut toward the Imperial Champion as though in search of rescue.
The Imperial Champion spread his hands, palm up. His expression was as solemn as a tombstone, but a spark gleamed in his indigo eyes. “I have never been able to restrain my son, Lord Azure.”
“Perhaps…perhaps I was a trifle hasty.” Lord Azure sounded somewhat strangled. He cast Seven a poisonous glare. “Given the Crown Prince’s further explanation of context for events, I can forgive your actions, Seventh Novice. I accept you back into my service.”
He said it in the same tone of voice as eat worms and die…but he’d said it. She felt as though she might float off the ground. She was Seventh Novice again. She might be the lowliest and least member of the Order of the First Water, but she was back in.
And it was all thanks to the Crown Prince. He’d come to her rescue. He’d known that she was in trouble, and he’d done everything in his power to put things right.
Because he was her true mate.
A stunned awe that trembled on joy filled her soul as she accepted it at last. He was her true mate, and now—
Now he was turning away.
“Great. That’s all sorted,” the Prince said, as brisk and business-like as though up-ending her entire fate had been a minor item on his agenda for the day. He clapped his hands together. “Lord Azure, give your squire any instructions you need conveyed back to Atlantis. Dad, can I tap the Imperial treasury? I don’t think I can pay for a helicopter to Montana with fan-folded dollar bills.”
“Montana?” It was hardly her place to speak, given how precarious her newly restored position was, but she couldn’t help it. “My prince, you are returning to your crew after all?”
He didn’t even glance at her. “Yeah. Something came up. I’ll…catch up with you in Atlantis after fire season, if I can.”
Was he trying to brush her off?
If so, he wasn’t going to find it that easy.
“My lord.” Seven rounded on Lord Azure. “Does my Quest still stand?”
“Your quest?” Lord Azure blinked. An unpleasant smile spread across his face. “Oh. Yes. Yes, it most definitely does, Seventh Novice. Imperial Champion, given my squire’s reinstatement, it seems that she shall now have the honor of protecting the Crown Prince.”
“No,” the Prince said flatly, before the Imperial Champion had a chance to respond. He pointed at Lord Azure. “I want him. He’s a full knight. She’s just a squire.”
“Who has already saved your life once,” the Imperial Champion murmured. He looked at Seven for a long moment, his deep blue eyes thoughtful. “We met once before, long ago. Do you recall?”
As if she could ever forget the day that had changed her life. She nodded, as tongue-tied now as she had been then.
The Imperial Champion’s gaze moved from her to his son, and back again. “I think perhaps I did better than anyone could have foreseen, that day. Seventh Novice, will you give me your oath to guard my son’s life, to your dying breath?”
“No,” the Prince said again, louder. “Anyone but her.”
The Imperial Champion raised his own voice, drowning out the Prince’s objection. “Will you swear on your honor to stay by his side, always, no matter how he might protest?”
“I so swear.” She didn’t have her sword, to swear on as the ancient ritual demanded. She could only hold out her hands, palm up, as though an invisible blade lay across them. “On my honor, I will never leave him.”
“Then I entrust you with my son.” The Imperial Champion smiled, the expression lighting up his stern features with surprising warmth. “I hope you will not have to hit him over the head too often.”
Seven gave him a deep bow that was more sincere than any she’d ever offered to Lord Azure. As she came up, she snuck a sideways glance at the Prince, to see how he was taking this. The way the blood had drained from his face made her jerk upright much faster than she’d originally intended.
“My prince?” She started to reach out for him, but checked herself at Lord Azure’s scandalized expression. “Are you feeling unwell?”
“I really need a drink,” the Prince muttered. He scrubbed a hand across his face, emerging looking drawn and ill. “Dad, can I have a word with Seven? Alone?”
The Imperial Champion nodded. “I shall make the necessary arrangements for your departure. Come, Lord Azure.” He treated Seven to another of those long, enigmatic looks before turning away, motioning to the guard to follow as well. “I believe my son and his new protector have much to discuss.”
Seven bowed again as they all left, as much to delay looking at the Prince as out of courtesy. The door swung shut. The room suddenly seemed way too large, and also utterly full of Prince.
He flashed her a brief, wan smile, not quite looking at her. “I wasn’t kidding about that drink. Is there something?”
The hotel room had a minibar. She went over to it, glad to have something to do with her hands. “What is your desire, my prince?”
Behind her back, he made a strange, choked sound, half-laugh and half-groan. “Oh, sea. Let’s not go there. Water. In a glass, please.”
Her fingers felt as stiff and uncoordinated as the first time she’d tried to swing a sword. She was painfully aware of his scent. She filled a cup with ice and water from the dispenser built into the minibar fridge.
As she passed him the cup, his fingertips brushed hers, for the briefest moment. Water sloshed over her hand as they both jerked.
“Sorry,” he muttered. He took the cup from her, retreating a step. “Thanks.”
He took the briefest sip, then stared into the drink as if he too was grasping at any excuse to avoid eye contact. She stood awkwardly off to one side, not sure what to do. What neither of them was saying echoed from the walls.
A tiny clinking noise broke the uncomfortable silence. It took her a second to identify it as ice rattling against the side of the glass. The Prince’s hand was shaking.
“My prince?” She wondered if he was still suffering the after-effects of whatever the woman had drugged him with. “Do you need to lie down?”
He didn’t move, still staring down into the water. “You know that old moral dilemma, the one where all your loved ones are drowning and you can only save one of them? Who would you rescue?”
Oh no, he was delirious. She readied herself to catch him if he started to topple over. “I see no point in hypothetical situations designed to have no right answer. In real life, I would save them all. Or die trying.”
“Yeah. Me too.” He set the cup down on the bedside table, as carefully as if it was filled with nitroglycerine. “I wish to the sea we’d never met.”
The words hit her harder than any blow. “But I’m your—”
The word mate lodged in her throat like a fish-hook. He hadn’t said it yet, and she didn’t want to be the first.
It was the hardest thing that she’d ever done, but she lifted her chin to face him head-on. “My prince. I know I’m, I’m not what you could ever have expected.”
He interrupted her with a short bark of laughter. She faltered to a halt, wondering what she’d said that was so funny.
“Sorry. Never mind.” He let out his breath, running a hand across his cropped hair. She realized that she’d never before seen a sea dragon male who wore his hair short, without any honor tokens at all. “Seven, think for a moment. You know only too well the sort of person I am. Can you see any future in which this works out?”
Until five minutes ago, she hadn’t thought she had any future at all, let alone with him. Now the reality of the situation hit her like an icy wave.
Her mate would be the Pearl Emperor one day. Ruler of all the shifters of the sea.
Hard as it was to picture him on the Throne, it was even more impossible to picture herself there as well. Someone like her, the Royal Consort? Mother to the next Emperor or Empress? Their children—their children!—might not even be sea dragons. The political implications would be sea-shattering.
He was right. It would have been better if they’d never met.
She swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her throat. “I-I understand, my prince. Nonetheless, I swore a vow to protect you. I cannot break that. I would lose my only chance at knighthood. More than that, I would lose my honor.”
“And that means everything to you,” he said softly.
“It’s all I’ve ever had. All I’ve ever wanted.” She hesitated, then plunged on, before she could lose her nerve. “Until now.”
He looked at her properly at last. Once again, she fell into the turquoise mystery of his gaze. Warmth wrapped around her like tropical seas, cradling and supporting her—
He blinked, dumping her out into the cold air once more. He turned away, hiding his expression.
“Well, it doesn’t look like I’ve got any choice,” he said, his voice gruff. “So you’ll come with me as my bodyguard. But you have to promise me something.”
“Anything.” Her palms ached with the need to touch him. She put her hands behind her back, straightening to attention. “I am yours to command, my prince.”
He met her eyes again…and this time his own were cold and hard as arctic ice.
“You will only be my bodyguard,” he said. “Ever.”
Chapter 8
Just his bodyguard.
Seven was grateful that the thudding roar of the private helicopter made conversation impossible. The Prince had barely looked in her direction since they’d left Las Vegas. Now he slumped in the seat furthest away from her, legs stretched out, staring fixedly into a plastic bottle of water. Every line of his body shouted how little he wanted to be there.
She was looking at his body again.
Seven wrenched her gaze away from the swell of his biceps. She occupied herself with redoing her hair, weaving her handful of honor-tokens in one by one. Her stick-straight, baby-fine hair was entirely the wrong texture for the traditional dreadlocks of a sea dragon knight, but she could at least approximate the style with rows of tight, narrow braids. She felt more herself with their weight tugging at her scalp.
I am Seventh Novice, every tiny clink of silver against silver reminded her. I am bodyguard to the Crown Prince of Atlantis himself. I will be a Knight of the First Water. I will have a place at last.
Just not with her mate.
She hadn’t grown up with shifters. When she’d first come to Atlantis and heard people talking about true mates, she’d scorned the entire concept as a ridiculous fairy tale. No one could actually fall in love in a single moment of eye contact.
And now she knew that she’d been right.
This gaping, cavernous craving was nothing as gentle and civilized as love. It was need. It was hunger. It was a pure, primal instinct to grapple and bite and claim, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, bodies slick and surging—
Seven took a deep breath, and mentally worked her way through all twenty-seven stanzas of the rules for honorable duels.
Just his bodyguard.
The Prince stirred at last, dropping his untouched bottle of water into a pocket. Seven tried not to stare too openly at the line of his neck as he leaned forward to peer out the window.
“We’re here,” he shouted over the thunder of the helicopter blades.
She pressed her face to her own window, shielding her eyes against the glare of the sun. A wrinkled landscape of green and brown lay below. Rocky mountain peaks thrust toward them, flanks blanketed by thick pine forest. A few thin, winding roads cut through the wilderness.
The helicopter’s shadow flickered over a small town, buildings huddled together as though for warmth. The pilot brought the machine round, following the line of a road that curved up the flank of the mountain. Tips of pines waved in the downdraft from the helicopter’s blades.
Seven clung to a strap, teeth rattling as the pilot brought them down into a broad clearing. The Prince was moving even before the helicopter’s skids touched the ground, unclipping his harness.
She started in alarm, scrabbling for her own seatbelt. “My prince-!”
She lurched, tossed off her feet by the unfamiliar movements of the machine. His hand closed over her arm before she could fall, holding her upright.
“Sorry,” he shouted in her ear. He slid the door open, balancing effortlessly in the swaying metal deathtrap. “Force of habit. We had to do a few aerial drop-offs last season. Learned to jump out as quickly as possible. Hold on to me.”
She didn’t have much choice, since it was that or pitch unceremoniously headfirst out the door. She clung to his waist, trying to ignore the heat of his body against hers. She wished she was still wearing her armor.
She’d dressed to match the Prince, in jeans and a plain t-shirt. After so long wearing the all-enclosing leathers of a sea dragon squire, she felt naked in the flimsy human clothes. At least she still had her stunsword, discretely holstered at her hip.
“Ready?” he said, gathering up their bags with his free hand and tossing them out the hatch. “On three. One. Two. Three—”
She yelped as he pulled her out the door. She braced herself, only to discover that the ground was far closer than she’d expected. A jarring impact went through her legs as her boots hit the ground. Instinctively, she absorbed the momentum, curling into a roll that would bring her gracefully back to her feet.
Or at least, it would have been graceful, if she hadn’t still been tangled up with the Prince.
“Argh,” he said from somewhere underneath her thighs, as the helicopter rose back into the sky and thudded away. “Let’s hope no-one saw that.”
“Too late,” said a deep, amused voice.
Seven twisted her head, and found herself staring up at a broad, upside-down grin.
“Trust Joe to arrive late, in a private helicopter, and entwined with a beautiful woman,” the man said. He bent to offer her a hand up. “I’m Rory MacCormick, A-squad boss. Welcome to Thunder Mountain.”
More out of politeness than necessity, Seven accepted his hand. His palm was rough with calluses, though not in the pattern of a swordsman.
Rory pulled her to her feet with a smooth, easy motion. He stood a good four inches or so taller than she was, though still nowhere near Joe’s height. He was broad and rugged, with tanned skin and bronze hair. His eyes were startling—rich and golden as a lion’s, and just as penetrating.
He’s the griffin, she realized. His family was famous in Atlantis. She’d heard poets singing the ballads about the deeds of his father Griff, who was oath-brother to the Imperial Champion. There was a whole epic saga about the many adventures they’d shared as part of the famous Alpha firefighting team in England. Recently, she’d even heard a few songs about Rory himself. Meeting him now, she could believe that they hadn’t been exaggerated.
“Seventh Novice of the Order of the First Water, Squire to the honored Lord Azure,” she said, turning her grip into a handshake. “People call me Seven for short.”
Rory’s tawny eyebrows rose slightly at this introduction. “Nice to meet you, Seven. And not to be rude, but why are we meeting? Joe said he was bringing someone back with him, but he was a little hazy on the details.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” A tall, broad-shouldered blonde woman shouldered Rory aside. She had a snub nose and freckled cheeks, and the most unabashed, infectious smile Seven had ever seen. “She’s Joe’s mate!”
Seven felt like she’d been punched straight in the gut. Was it that obvious?
“She’s Joe’s what?” Before Seven could even open her mouth, a second woman pushed past Rory. She too was dressed in a black T-shirt with THUNDER MOUNTAIN HOTSHOTS written across the chest in bold yellow letters. She adopted an exaggerated, mournful expression. “I’m so, so sorry. If you want to run for the hills, we’ll hold him down to give you a head start.”
“Hey!” the Prince said, struggling upright. “I’m not that bad.”
“You are,” Rory told him.
“Oh, Blaise, don’t be silly,” the first woman said. She fixed Seven with an earnest expression, as though she was genuinely concerned Seven might take Blaise up on her offer. “I’m sure that the two of you will be perfect for each other. You’re a shifter, right? So you must have known straight away. You’re so lucky, it took me ages to trust my feelings about Rory. I’m Edith. Rory’s my mate. This is Blaise, and those three over there are Callum, Wystan, and Fenrir.”
