Claws and Kisses

“Lady Wendy.” He rushed to my side, only hesitating when I flinched away. A slight frown marred his lips as he surveyed me, and then the haven itself. Looking for danger. “Are you alright?”

I shook my head, slowly backing away from him. Avel said no one could get in. How the hell had he? He was most certainly not a blood relative. So what exactly was he and what was he doing here? He was supposed to be hours upon hours away, back in Jara.

He watched as I distanced myself, and realization colored his eyes as a warm, kind smile tilted his lips. “Lady Wendy, Romeo sent me here. We’re good friends, and he asked me to come here while Avel and his Inner Circle deal with the situation at the mountain.”

A million questions ran through my head. The only one to make it through the thick of the haze scrambling my thoughts was, “You can’t be near me.” I backed up further, my eyes darting to the exit and than back to him. “Avel won’t be able to feel our bond. He’ll think something happened—”

Aamon held up his hand, and used his other to reach into his pocket to fish out a small, shiny object. He threw it across the cavern to me. I caught it with one hand, and looked down to see Giselle’s mermaid scale, attached to a string. With scrunched eyebrows, I looked back up at the Drachen-Warlock, a silent question in my eyes.

Leaning against one of the chaises, he crossed his arms and nudged his head at the scale. “When your lot visited Jara, Romeo asked me to enchant that. It’s a charm now, and will protect you in more ways than one. Wear that and my energy won’t overpower yours.”

The warlock seemed out of place in the haven that Avel had built. His silver armor and golden skin shimmered faintly in the warm glow of the candlelight. He appeared even more handsome than he had the first time I had seen him, and his presence caused unease to churn violently in my stomach. Avel had told me of his dislike for Aamon and warlocks in general. The last thing I wanted to do right now was give my mate a reason not to trust me when we were in the middle of completing our Mating Ritual. The time when trust and loyalty were needed the most.

He studied my rigid stance, his smile fading. “You are frightened of me?”

The deep, velvety rumble of his masculine voice had shivers running down my back. I shook my head at length. “Frightened . . . is not the right word I would use.” It was my turn to study him, and I did so with great trepidation.

“Did Romeo truly send you here?”

The warlock nodded once. Honest.

Biting my lip, I ventured a step closer, the unease lessening a touch as I gripped the mermaid’s scale hard. “If Romeo sent you, than Avel knows of your presence as well?”

Aamon cocked his head. “Not . . . exactly.”

And time to get the fuck out of here. Backing up some more, my eyes sought out the exit. There was no way in hell that I was stronger than a Drachen-Warlock hybrid, but I rather take my chances with the forest than stay here for a moment longer. Aamon seemed like a nice guy, but I was not falling for any traps. Not during the Mating Ritual. Not so close to the Drachen Trials, where every Dragon Lord was looking to cheat the others.

Not now.

I lunged for the door just as Aamon sprang for me. I hadn’t made it three feet before he was tackling me to the ground. Yelping loudly, I clawed and grappled with the man on the floor, desperately seeking an escape from his firm but gentle grasp.

“Wendy! Calm down.” He managed to straddle my hips, pinning me to the floor with his weight. The intimate position had a frustrated, embarrassed blush springing to my cheeks.

“Help!” I screamed, struggling fiercely. I can’t die like this. “Avel, help me! Please!”

My sobbed shouts were halted by Aamon, who laid a firm hand over my lips. “Wendy, listen!” His caramel gaze pierced mine, pleading for me to listen to him. I stilled only long enough to hear him whisper in a rushed, half-desperate tone, “I promise that I am not here to hurt you. I came as a favor to Romeo. Avel asked him to find someone to ward this cave, and Romeo called me from Jara to charm this place and the scale.”

I blinked. Blinked again. Stuttering, I blurted, “Why would Romeo not tell Avel about you? He doesn’t keep secrets from my mate.”

Sensing that I was not averse to listening to him, he leaned back and eased his grip on me, not fully releasing. His eyes were open and sincere as he honed in his attention on me. “You must know how Avel feels about my kind. Romeo thought it best to keep my presence on the low. Even though there are other spellcasters out there, Romeo knows how powerful I am.” An ironic smirk curved his lips as he smartly stated, “No one can cast magic like me.”

My heart slowly calmed as I laid underneath him, breathing hard. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to be telling the truth.

Then—”Fine. Let’s say I believe you.” I shoved him off from above me, and he let me go without resistance. I rolled to my feet and put a few feet between us, still wary of the warlock. My brow rose in a mocking arch. “What the hell is happening at the mountain?”

He bristled, and rose slowly from the floor. The smirk vanished in an instant. There was a warning, somber glint in his eye as he replied. “You have my deepest apologies, Lady Wendy.” Carefully, he laid a comforting hand on my arm, and I knew I was about to hate the words that came out of his mouth next.

“There was an attack on your horde. Right after you and your mate left.”

Blood rushed through my ears, and I swore I saw stars in my vision as I sunk onto one of the sofas. Attack attack attack. Numbly, I asked, “Was . . . do you know how many casualties there were?”

He hesitated before saying, “The attack was targeted on the civilian population, not on the Drachen warriors. The purpose of it was to send a message to Avel. About the Drachen Trials.”

Drachen Trials. Those two words had caused me more pain in the last month of my life then anything else in the world.

He had said civilians. Not armed, trained warriors who knew how to defend themselves. They had attacked women. Children. Those who were helpless against the likes of a higher power.

"Who?"

Aamon understood what I was asking. "They're not quite sure yet, but one of the Dragon Lords from the south. They were sporting the colors popular in that region."

Those words had a wild, animalistic snarl tearing from my throat. Launching from my seat, I began to march towards the threshold of the haven. “Damn those trials! Damn those Dragon Lords!”

Letting out a scream of pent up anger, I slammed my fist into the cavern wall, causing the skin of my knuckles to immediately split open and begin to bleed. I sagged against the stone, the rage withdrawing almost immediately. Breathing out a sob, I moaned, “Those trials have already stolen my mate from my side. Now my horde has to suffer the consequences too?”

Aamon closed in behind me, nearing a few feet. His honey brown eyes were kind as he grasped my shoulder, strength pouring from his body and into mine. “What do you mean, the trials have stolen your mate?”

I dug my nails into the rock, not feeling the pain from my cuts or the pain of knowing my new home was in trouble. “I know in my soul that Avel will not survive those trials. I have tried to stop him, but he is hellbent on competing.” A cry built in my throat, but I shoved it down, not wanting to feel the prick of hot tears on my cheeks right now. I continued brokenly. “I’m not stupid. He is powerful and smart and capable, but he has not been Dragon Lord for practically any time at all. The older, stronger ones will take him out. Away from me. He just hasn’t been playing the game as long as the others.”

Aamon’s grip on me changed. From one of comfort to one of thought . . . and then he took his hand away entirely.

Confused, I turned around to see him. There was a new gleam in his brown eyes, and even though he did not dare speak it, I soon realized the same, treacherous thing that he had. Hope, ablaze and burning bright in my chest, sizzled through my veins.

“You.” I blinked, stepping close to him. Close enough to feel the heat coming off him in waves. “You can keep Avel alive. During the trials.”

He shook his head, looking a second away from fleeing. “No.”

I crept closer, my thoughts running a million miles a minute. “You said it yourself. You’re one of the most powerful warlocks out there. You can protect him during the trials.”

The warlock took a step back. Two. “You know the rules as well as I do. Using magic during the trials is the number one no-no. I may be fond of you, Lady Wendy, but I’m not willing to put you and me both at risk of execution for cheating.”

Shaking my head, I matched each of his steps with one of my own, prowling towards him until he was cornered against one of the tables. “I don’t care.”

“Well, I do.” He put his hands up, preventing me from coming any closer. He must have seen the flash of danger in my eyes for he was already shaking his head and spouting nonsense. “There are a thousand and one rules obstructing the use of magic. If I was caught, it would be really bad. For both of us. For Avel.”

Reaching up, I gripped his silver chestplate and thought. Thought about what I knew of dragons. There was only one real way to deal with them, and even though I did not like the idea of it, the risk was certainly worth the reward. I would do anything to ensure Avel’s survival.

If Avel refuses to save his own life, then I will have to do it for him.

“I . . . I will make a Blood Oath to you,” I whispered, the words sour on my lips. “His life for mine. If you do everything in your power to make sure Avel does not die during the trials, I will do anything you ask. Anything.”

Something sparked in his eyes, and I did not entirely like the gleam I found there. His hands encircled my wrists, and his next words were slow. Drawn out. “You don’t want to make a deal with me, Wendy. Especially not one you won’t be able to get out of.”

The warning in his tone did not register in my mind. I was already reaching for the dagger tucked into his belt. Tugging it out of its sheath, I quickly drew the edge over my palm. The blood mixed with the sweat emitting profusely from my clammy palms. I held it out to the warlock, desperate and all too ready to make a rash, impulsive decision.

“My life for his,” I repeated, my hand bloody and trembling.

He grimaced as his dark eyes assessed mine. “You will regret this, Wendy. If not today, then tomorrow. Or the day after that.” His gaze was hard upon mine. “This, I promise you.”

My voice broke as I whimpered, “Please, Aamon. I need to do this. I need to save my mate.” Unshed tears blurred my vision. “I c-can’t lose him.”

Aamon dropped his head, taking a deep, controlled breath. After a moment, he raised his head and simply whispered, “Deals with warlocks aren’t bound through blood.”

I frowned. “What are they bound through?”

Without bothering to ask, he suddenly wrapped his fingers around my jaw and, in one fast, reckless move, pressed his lips hotly against mine.

Sealing the deal.

Bloody. Hell. I am the freakin writer of this story and still, every time I re-read that last part my jaw drops.

Hello, loves! Happy Tuesday. What did you all think of this chapter? Lots of things going on. There was an attack on the horde, Aamon is here without Avel's permission, and (OH MY GOODNESS) Wendy made a deal with a warlock. I know we have not gotten too much into Aamon or his character, but I would love to hear your thoughts about him and what y'all think is going to happen with that little deal-i-o they made.

*Winks*

We are slowly moving right along. We have got the end of the Mating Ritual to go, we have to see what's going on with the attack on the horde, and then it is off to the Drachen Trials we go. I am so damn excited for the ending that I can hardly wait. (P.S. I think you all will both be equally pleased and frustrated with the way things go down ;) And that is all I'm going to say about that!

Alright, that is all for today folks. I hope you enjoyed, and are excited for the coming adventures!

~Elaine

(P.P.S. Deal-i-o has got to be a real word, right?)