The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

the old Ysolde as she examined the wall. “I always loved it when you wore nothing but a chemise.”

I stopped eyeing the past Baltic, clad in a pair of leather leggings and boots, to notice that the candles he now held made Ysolde’s form visible through the thin material of the chemise.

“You know, it’s really hard to be jealous of yourself, but if you keep ogling her, I may just manage it,” I told him.

He grinned. “You wish to bed me. The other me. Where is the difference?”

“I do not! I mean, I did wish to, and we did make love, but the present me doesn’t want the past you.” I glanced over to where the past Baltic was showing Ysolde how to open the hidden door. “Well, all right, I wouldn’t turn him down if he showed up in my bed, because he looks really sexy in those leggings.”

Baltic said something rude under his breath.

“Oh, come on! Just look at yourself!” I said, gesturing toward the memory. “Those leggings and boots and bare chest . . . it’s just so . . . rawr! I want to rip the clothes right off of him. You. Past you! And your chest . . . I’ve always loved your chest. . . .”

Baltic moved to block my view, his expression black as he gestured at his current self. “You will love this chest, mate! You will welcome me in your bed, not him!”

“Oh, I do love your chest,” I purred, rubbing myself against his body, making sure to stroke a hand down the silky flesh that covered the steely muscles of his chest and abdomen. “I love every inch of you, Baltic. I always will.”

“More than him?” he asked, jerking his thumb toward the other version of himself, one that was now, I was interested to see, pressing Ysolde up against the wall to kiss her breasts and neck.

“Good lord, we really did go at it like bunnies, didn’t we?” I murmured, quickly pulling my attention back to Baltic at the outraged noise he made deep in his chest. “Of course I love you more. Present you wins every competition. You’re sexier now, more handsome, and much more pleasing to me.”

I thought that would assuage his ego, but his black look grew darker. “You didn’t find me sexy in the past? I didn’t please you then?”

“Of course you did!” I wanted to laugh, but knew he would totally misunderstand. “For the love of the saints, just look at me. Does it look like you’re not pleasuring me to the tips of my toes?”

We both looked at the couple, my eyes widening a little as Baltic, murmuring something in Ysolde’s ear, hoisted her upward, pressing her against the wall as he pulled her legs around his hips, quickly thrusting into her body in a way that made her cry out in rapture.

“By the rood,” I said softly, my mouth going a bit dry at the sight.

Baltic moved to block my view again. “Is that what you desire? Lovemaking in the tunnel under Dauva?”

“No, of course not. Er . . . is the tunnel still there?”

He sighed and strode off. I followed, with only a quick backward glance at the lovers, but the scene melted away into that of our bedroom. “Where are you going?” I asked when I got to the door in time to see a still-naked Baltic marching down the stairs.

Brom was coming up them at the same time, casting a curious look over his shoulder as he got to the top. He gave me a long look that was more adult than it should have been, saying simply, “Night, Sullivan.”

“Good night, lovey,” I answered, wondering if Baltic was truly angry or had just gone off to book a flight to Latvia. I started after him, returning quickly to the room to snatch up the caramel and brush before hurrying downstairs.

Pavel stood at the front door, an expression of surprise fading to one of amusement as I paused to consider where Baltic might have gone.

“Basement,” was all Pavel said.

“Thanks. He’s in one of his moods,” I said.

Pavel glanced at the bowl, dipping in a finger and licking it. “Homemade caramel sauce?”

“Of course. I used fresh cream, and I think it made all the difference.”

He smiled. “Have I mentioned lately how glad I am that you are not dead? Not just because you’ve kept Baltic from going insane with grief, but because it’s nice to have someone who appreciates good food.”

I laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek before heading to the basement door.

“So if the black dragon’s element is energy, what’s our element?” I asked, closing the door and making my way down the narrow steps to Brom’s work area. Fluorescent lights from the ceiling fixture cast a sickly hue over his worktable. Beyond it were a couple of storage rooms, one door of which was open, the pale yellow light from it pooling at the entrance.

“Arcane power,” came a muffled answer.

I touched a spot over my heart, where a light tan brand of a stylized sun resided. Baltic had placed the mark there, telling me it was the symbol of our new sept and that when I had mastered my dragon fire, I would do the same for Brom. “Does Pavel have abilities to use arcane power?”

“No. But his children will. As will ours.”

I wasn’t prepared to talk about the possibility of other children yet. I knew Baltic wanted a child of his own blood, and I did think that we would have one together, but I didn’t intend for that to happen until our lives had settled down. “You had arcane abilities before, though, didn’t you? Isn’t that why Antonia von Endres gave you her mage sword?”

“My grandmother was a mage,” he said in an even more muffled tone, accompanied by some soft swearing in another language. “I gained some control over arcane magic from her.”

“On your mother or father’s side?”

“My mother’s mother.”

“So your grandmother was human? Huh.” I sat on the tall stool before Brom’s worktable. “Did I ever meet your parents? Before we were killed, I mean?”

“You do not remember?”

“No. That’s part of the past that’s still blank to me.”

“You met my father, yes. My mother was long dead by the time you were born. She would have liked you. She would have been pleased I chose you above all others.”

Wyverns, I remembered from a talk with May, all had one thing in common—one dragon parent and one human parent. “Because I was raised with mortals, you mean?”

“Because you thought like them, even after you knew what you truly were.”

I digested that for a minute, about to ask another question when Baltic emerged from the spare room. He wore a pair of dusky brown leather leggings and boots that went up to midthigh, and he bore a long, stained leather sheath. In one hand he carried a black tunic and something that looked like a small curved chest piece, one that had seen better days. He tossed the chest piece onto a chair, and as I stared in astonishment, pulled a long sword out of the sheath, balancing it in his hand for a moment before nodding. “I am glad Pavel was able to retrieve my cuirass and sword before Constantine destroyed Dauva. Now, chérie, you will cease thinking of the past and focus on the present.”

I continued to stare for a moment, tears pricking painfully to life behind my eyes. “If I wasn’t head over heels in love with you already, I would fall madly in love with you right at this moment.”

He looked down at himself for a moment before cocking an eyebrow. “It is good, then, that I kept the clothing I wore when Thala resurrected me. I had no idea it would arouse you in such a manner.”

“It’s not the clothes,” I said, setting down the caramel and taking his face in my hands, pulling him down so I could press kisses all over it.

“Then what?” he asked, placing the sword on Brom’s worktable, wrapping both arms around me, and hoisting me upward. “Why do you weep?”

“It’s the fact that you would go to all this trouble just to please me. Oh, Baltic, I don’t need you in leggings, although they are even more sexy on you now than in the past. I don’t want you to be the man you used to be—I desire you as you are, not as you were. My heart has always been yours, and always will be.”

“That is as it should be,” he said with a smug look that just made me smile. “But I do not mind indulging the less strange of your fantasies. Do you have a chemise?”

I blinked at him. “I beg your pardon?”