Chapter 12

After a long soak in the hot spring pool, the teary shakiness that had gripped me in the lavender field drained away.

I wrapped a towel around myself and made my way back to our chambers, where Donovan was busy making dinner.

The appetizing scents of roasting chicken and potatoes greeted me when I emerged from the bathroom smoothing my skirt.

Donovan looked up when I entered the kitchen, and my breath caught at the way his eyes lit when he saw me.

A huge grin nearly split his face, and he waggled his eyebrows at me. “So, little witch, what’s this about loving me?”

He dashed around the table, hands outstretched to grab me, and I danced backward, laughing.

“Don’t get cocky, dragon. You’re already conceited enough!”

“I wouldn’t agree with that. My ego is considerably smaller than most dragons’. I think it could use some inflating. So, go ahead, tell me how much you adore me, I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can,” I said, lips quirking. “But I think I’d rather eat first. Declarations of love on an empty stomach are weak.”

Donovan laughed before backing me against the wall, where he placed both hands above my shoulders to box me in and leaned so close his body brushed mine.

“Maybe you’re traditional and want to hear it from me first.” He nibbled my earlobe, sending a tingle down my spine. “So even though your entire family has spilled the beans about how you really feel, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything and make the next move.” He lowered his mouth to mine. “I love you, Marley. You do know that, don’t you?”

“I do now,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around his neck. We kissed until something boiled over, and the kitchen fire hissed and spit, making us jump apart.

“Damn this inconvenient meal.” Donovan stalked to the hearth to save the potatoes.

I busied myself setting the table, smiling at how natural and right our little domestic rituals felt.

“Listen.” Donovan set the pot of potatoes in the sink. He turned, his expression vulnerable, all his former amused bravado evaporated. “Before we eat, I’ve got something I want to show you.”

If not for the strange entreaty in his eyes, I would have made a ribald comment about what exactly he had in mind. Instead, I nodded.

He took my hand and led me out of the great room, into the hallway. We passed our bedroom and stopped outside the locked room.

“Your treasure room,” I whispered as he took a set of keys out of his pocket and inserted one into the lock. “But this is yours, Donovan.”

“I know.” He twisted the key. “But I want to share it with you.”

“Only dragons who truly love their mates share their private treasure room!” I protested, frozen to the ground by the implications. “I know you love me, but you love me that much?”

For an answer, Donovan opened the door.

Holding my breath, I crossed the threshold. Piles of gold coins rested in corners. Dusty old books lined a bookshelf. Tables groaned beneath coffers of jewelry and other trinkets. A beautiful mirror had been hung above the fireplace mantel. No chairs or sofas to sit; every piece of furniture was made to hold objects, not people.

In the very center of the room, an old pirate’s chest rested on an antique rug. A thick silver padlock made sure no one could open it but Donovan.

He watched me inspect his treasures, an oddly expectant smile spreading across his lips.

“Go ahead, touch. Take anything you like,” he invited, when I hesitantly stretched my hand toward a lovely jeweled bracelet.

“Take?” I stared at him. “But these are your treasures.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Now that I’ve opened the room to you they’re yours, too. Dragon law, Marley.”

Tentatively, I slid the bracelet over my fingers till it settled on my wrist.

“So beautiful,” I marveled, twisting my hand this way and that to catch the light from the sconces burning on the wall.

“It’s yours,” he said.

“It does seem a shame to lock it away and never use it,” I whispered, because speaking in a loud voice seemed oddly disrespectful.

After I’d prowled the room three times and still hadn’t come close to examining even a quarter of the treasures, Donovan handed me a key.

“For the padlock.” He nodded toward the pirate’s chest.

“Oh, no!” I shook my head. “That chest must contain your most valuable treasure. Keep something for yourself, Donovan.”

“Valuable, yes,” he agreed. “But probably not in the way you think. Nothing in there is worth much in trade, but what’s in there means the most to me in the world.” He flashed me an affectionate grin. “Except for you now. And small as you are, you still wouldn’t fit in there.”

Warmth bloomed in my cheeks. I leaned forward to brush his lips with mine.

“I do love you,” I told him. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Me neither,” he said, complete adoration shining from his eyes. “Now open the chest, little witch; the suspense is killing me.”

I turned to the chest, key in hand. “Does my opinion really matter so much?”

“It’s worth more than all the jewels and gold in this room,” he said.

My hand shook as I inserted the key. Excitement mounted inside me. What in the world could this chest contain that was more valuable than anything I’d seen so far in the fabulous room?

The lock popped, and the padlock slipped to the rug. The lid creaked as I lifted it. Biting my lip, I peered inside. Three items lay on the bottom of the chest. One was a little wooden box I recognized. Papa had made it to contain the silver dragon charm I’d given Donovan on our wedding day. Next to it curled the rawhide strip that had been lashed around our wrists that same day.

A lump rose in my throat when I looked at the third treasure. I recognized it, too.

“Bunny,” I breathed, barely daring to believe what I saw. “You kept her.”

“I found her outside my chambers a few days after I tried to present her to the council. I’m sure Balthasar left her for me. Probably he took her when the others were meting out my punishment. They would have thrown her on the fire.

“She was the start of my collection. By far my favorite thing. Every time I looked at her, I saw a funny little witch girl earnestly talking about ‘peets offerings’ and trying not to cry because she was giving up her most precious treasure in the world. How could I have treated her as anything less than that myself?”

Donovan’s voice caught for a moment. “I told the council how dear she was to you. You’d tried to even the scales. Your coven took our most precious treasure, and you offered yours in return. It was a fair deal, Marley, and if I’d been on that council I would have taken it.”

Reverently, I lifted Bunny from the bottom of the chest and stroked her soft, white fur. Bare patches showed in some places, worn down by constant hugging and adventures in fields and treehouses.

Tears clogged my throat. “I wonder if she would still talk to me.”

“I don’t see why not. She was enchanted for you. Let me step outside so you can be alone. I know she’ll only talk when no one else is around.” Donovan quietly exited, closing the door behind him.

The only sound in the room was the rush of blood in my ears and my uneven breathing.

Bunny—after all these years.

Smiling, I said, “Hello, Bunny. Do you remember me?”

“Hi, Marley,” squeaked Bunny in that same funny voice I remembered from childhood. “You’re a big girl now.”

“Not too big for my Bunny,” I whispered, hugging her to my chest as tears dripped down my face. “I’m so sorry I had to send you away. I missed you so much!”

“I missed you, too!” Bunny piped. “Nobody’s hugged me in ages. Can I come play with you again? I know! We could have a tea party!”

“We could,” I agreed, burying my wet face in her soft fur. “Would you like to come and have one now?”

“Yes!” she squealed.

My funny old bunny. Hugging her, I walked to the door and opened it.

“She still talks,” I told Donovan, who waited just outside the room. He reached out to wipe the tears from my face with his thumbs. “Can she come sit at the dinner table with us?”

“She’s yours, little witch. You can bring her anywhere you like.”

“She’s ours,” I told him. “You kept her safe all these years. Maybe someday, if we have a child, they’ll want to play with her.”

“I would like that more than anything,” Donovan told me, his face alight. “Now come, let’s sit down and eat. Bunny can have pride of place at the head of the table.”

I laughed through my tears.

Ceremoniously, I placed Bunny in her designated chair. Donovan gave her a teacup and saucer. He even filled the cup with tea.

I sat across from him, and looked down with hungry anticipation at my plate heaped high with chicken, peas, and potatoes.

Frowning, I poked at the mound of mashed potatoes with my fork. “Why is there a blue tinge to these potatoes?”

“I dunno. Taste them and find out,” Donovan suggested.

I peered at him and the potatoes suspiciously.

“You put a magical tuber in here,” I accused.

Slowly he nodded, his eyes full of desperate hope.

“Please,” he said in a choked voice. “I don’t want to watch you grow old and die. I want you to stay with me for a thousand years.”

I sighed and stared at my fork. “You might, but what about the rest of the clan? Don’t you think we should ask first?”

“Who do you think gave me the tuber? I can’t just put my hands on one anytime I like,” Donovan said. “Balthasar and his wife, the heads of the council and the clan, knocked on our door when you were bathing. They had a chest—the one that long-ago dragon buried in a field your aunt decided to cultivate one morning. Inside, a single blue tuber. For you.”

Donovan’s mouth twisted. “Please eat it. If you do, that box is going into my pirate’s chest because it will represent a long, happy life with you, which is what I want more than anything. Please, Marley, the Tauria clan wants you to, not just me.”

I took a deep breath and held it for a moment, my head whirling.

Donovan’s emerald green eyes, full of entreaty and love, gleamed with unshed tears.

I pictured how he’d look, young and handsome, holding my withered, age-spotted hand as I lay on my death bed. How I’d break his heart when I died, just as that long-ago witch had broken the heart of her dragon. He’d stopped eating the tuber so he could join her. Wasn’t it fitting that I start eating the tuber to stay with my true love?

I raised my fork and put it my mouth. The potatoes barely masked the strong, sweet taste of the tuber. When I swallowed, the world reeled for a moment as the magic took root.

Donovan smiled at me, even as tears trickled down his cheeks.

I smiled back at him and said, “And they lived happily ever after.”