“As if I could forget.”
They spiraled down among the trees, the air sweet with the scent of ripe peaches. Erob descended to the grass, his legs bunching to soften the impact. Within moments, Roberto was racing to meet Ezaara. When they were barely an arm’s length apart, they stopped, staring at each other.
Her eyes were green sea foam at dawn, churning with power and emotion. Her face was awash with tenderness. What had he done to deserve her?
She smiled. “You’re you.”
He swept her into his arms, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. Light burst through him. This was so right.
§
Ezaara felt so alive. Every fiber of her being was singing. Roberto enfolded her in his arms, his onyx eyes full of wonder. The world shifted. This was where she belonged, right here.
“I’m glad Zaarusha chose you,” Roberto’s breath caressed her neck, making her skin tingle. He traced her cheek with gentle fingers, and tilted her chin. “I love you, Ezaara, and always will.”
His lips brushed hers. Gods, they were so soft.
Ezaara slid her fingers into his hair and tugged him closer. “And I love you too.” And then, she was kissing him back, her lips against his, millions of stars exploding inside her, shimmering with liquid light.
And then a strange thing happened.
The sathir, dancing around them—a myriad of colors from her, and midnight blue shot with silver from him—merged. At first, her colors swirled around his, then the blue seemed to absorb them, lightening and pulsing until they formed one river of brilliant light.
Fire roared through Ezaara and images flitted through her—from him, from her—weaving in harmony, a life-song of their short time together.
Roberto’s eyes shone. “I never dreamed love would be like this.”
Ezaara touched his lips with her fingertips. She felt, more than heard, the sharp intake of his breath. His eyes smoldered, burning through her, making her tremble. He crushed her body against the firm planes of his chest, then his mouth was upon hers again.
Her heart raced as she melted against him, running her hands over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling him closer.
“I love you,” she groaned against his lips. Never had she imagined a kiss could feel like this.
“Take care, Ezaara,” Zaarusha melded. “Dragon above.”
Ezaara broke off their kiss, and glanced up. Antonika was circling the orchard.
“Don’t worry.” Roberto stroked strands of her hair back from her face. “Tonio’s not riding her. She’s alone.”
“If she tells him, we’re in big trouble.”
“After everything we’ve been through, I don’t care. We’ll face that if we have to, but one thing I know: we’ll never be ripped apart again.”
This time, when he kissed her, fire seared her lips, burning a trail to her core, setting her soul ablaze. Their kiss was urgent, ravenous. Ezaara was lost in a sea of sensation as tendrils spiraled deep inside her, awakening feelings she’d never known.
Roberto pulled back, his eyes swallowing hers. He ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve never felt this way before.”
“Neither have I.”
“One day, when you’re qualified, I’ll ask Lars if we can be hand-fasted.”
She smiled against his lips, murmuring, “Yes, one day.” For now, they had these forbidden, hidden kisses.
Roberto kissed her once more, gently. “We’d better get back before someone misses us.”
They walked hand in hand through the orchard, toward their dragons, their river of sathir dancing around them. Birds flitted in and out of the trees, feasting on peaches in the summer sun. A deep warm glow suffused Ezaara.
“Do you realize, it’s just over one moon since you arrived?” Roberto asked. “We should celebrate.”
“We just did.” Ezaara giggled. Four and a half short weeks. A whole different life.
She was Queen’s Rider. She’d finally earned her rightful place on Zaarusha’s back, leading Dragons’ Realm. And Roberto had earned his place inside her heart.
“Help, Ezaara!” The voice was faint, as if it was far away, with a familiar deep timbre.
“Handel?”
“It’s your father, Hans. He’s dying.”
Shock hollowed Ezaara’s belly. No, not Pa. “Where is he, Handel? What’s wrong with him?”
“I’m bringing him to the infirmary.” Handel’s voice was fading. “Please, you need to—”
“Handel?”
No answer.
Roberto touched her face. “What is it?”
“Handel melded. My father’s dying.” What about her brother? If Pa was dying, where was Tomaaz? And Zaarusha had said Ma was off finding Zaarusha’s son. Was Ma in danger, too?
Roberto enveloped her in his arms. “It’s all right, Ezaara. We’ll face this together.”
“They’re on their way here. I have to get ready.” Her hands grew slick with sweat and her pulse thundered. Pa. Dying. How could she prepare when she didn’t know what was wrong with him? She only had a few healing remedies—and Fleur’s questionable supplies. “Roberto, I don’t know what … how …”
Roberto took her hands, squeezing them. “Ezaara, if anyone can do this, it’s you. I’ll be with you, every step of the way.”
Breathing deeply, Ezaara nodded. “Let’s go.”
They ran to Erob and Zaarusha, and took to the sky, soaring above the trees, their dragons’ wings flipping in perfect synchronicity.
Dragon Hero
Prologue - Eighteen Years Ago
Marlies strode along the tunnel, torches flickering and shadows flitting across the stone walls. Although it’d been a long day in the infirmary, she had one more duty before she could sleep. Lifting her torch, she turned down the passage to the dragon queen’s den.
Her footfalls echoed as she passed through Anakisha’s empty sleeping chamber. Sadness washed through her. Had it only been two moons since they’d lost the Queen’s Rider? It seemed longer. There’d been many people to mourn—and dragons. Marlies shook her head. Too many deaths in one battle; and more dead and wounded in skirmishes since. She walked under the archway into Zaarusha’s den and placed the torch in
