Chapter Eleven
Anna
The tent was so large that a blanket was strung up along the middle, and she was on one side while Indulf was on the other. Nighttime clung to the outside, a murmur of voices the only noise louder than crickets chirping. Anna shivered as she lay in a hammock, covered in furs. It wasn’t that she was especially uncomfortable, even though the hammock kept her neck at an odd angle. The furs smelled strange, but not unpleasantly so.
No, the thing that kept her from drifting off was the conversation she had had earlier with Warmund. The glares that the two large dragons with him had given Indulf. Knowing that there was only so much open field between the two camps, and if Warmund decided to strike at night, trying to get her, people would get hurt. Killed. And it wouldn’t be her fault but, it wouldn't be happening if she wasn't here.
Or maybe it would. She didn't even know anymore.
There was movement from Indulf’s side of the tent and she paused, listening intently. Papers rustled and she frowned. Shouldn't he be sleeping? He had explained that battles were highly arranged, something that had confused her but that was apparently considered basic wartime decency here, but that didn’t mean he wouldn't find himself in battle the next day.
Anna slipped out of her hammock, catching it as it swung, and tiptoed over to the curtain. She peered through to see Indulf outlined in the lamplight.
This was all happening because Warmund was desperate to get his sister back. Yet Indulf refused to even consider that she might be alive. Did he know something his son didn't? And if he didn't, why was he so set against using magic to look for her? Anna understood that magical time travel might end up being unstable, but they didn't even have proof that time travel was possible. Why did he have to be so stubborn about this?
“I can hear you standing there.” Indulf turned to her and rose a brow. “Did you need something?”
He turned his eyes on her. His face was completely cast in shadow and Anna winced. If there was just a little more light, she would at least know if he was upset or not. Part of her wondered if she should just let the curtain fall and slip back to her hammock. But she bolstered herself—she wasn't going to be one of those cowering women who backed down from a fight. Not this time, at least. Those women might be able to read moods better than her, but if there was one thing she could do, it was talk.
She stepped through the curtain and put her hands on her hips. “You should be sleeping.”
Indulf ran a hand through his hair. In the dim light, his already dark skin looked like midnight. Comforting, cozy, a promise of rest. Before he even spoke, Anna went to him and took his hand in hers. She led him back to his bed and laid down, drawing him down beside her.
He let out a deep, shaking breath and pressed his face into her hair. Tension eased from his shoulders and his arms wrapped around her.
“I thought you were angry with me,” he murmured in her ear.
“I don't understand, but I’m not angry. I want to understand.”
A shiver ran through him. His hands began to wander down her body, but returned to her waist soon enough. “I shouldn't allow this. My men don’t have women to warm their beds.”
“Some of them do. I saw women in the camp. Wives? Lovers?”
“They are here to cook and tend to the wounded while we battle.”
Anna couldn’t stop herself from scoffing. “I’m sure that’s not all they do.”
“But I am the king.”
“And we are just cuddling and talking.”
Indulf sighed. “Perhaps a more intimate endeavor than lovemaking.”
Anna hesitated a moment. Was it more intimate than sex to just lie here? Sure, she felt more connected to Indulf at that moment than she had to all her boyfriends in the past. But that just highlighted what poor judgment she’d had in the past, didn't it?
“If you want me to go…”
His arms tightened. “No. I don’t want that.”
Anna turned toward him, running her hand under his shirt. His abs twitched under her touch, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. The question on her lips turned to an order as she spoke. “Tell me about your wife and daughter.”
Indulf tensed at once.
“Please,” she added in a softer tone. “I want to understand you. I want to understand all of this. Thonis told me that Warmund blamed himself… Why? What happened? I know that your wife was killed and your daughter taken…”
Indulf remained tense for a long moment before his muscles relaxed again. “It was a long time ago. I was away, dealing with one of my uncles. Warmund was a child then, but he loved his sister. He was watching her when the assassins came. They appeared out of nowhere. Killed my mate. Tried to kill Warmund, but he ran--leaving Wildref. He was only a child, but he never forgave himself for running. It was a rogue mage group, who declared the age of dragons was ending. Wildref disappeared. No body to recover, no body to bury and mourn. A thousand years ago… it might as well have been yesterday for Warmund. He has never allowed himself to mourn. But my daughter… she’s gone. I can’t torture myself thinking she might be alive. I can’t face the pain of mourning her a thousand times as hopes are dashed like boats against a rocky shore.”
Anna didn't know how to respond to that. She had never lost anybody before. Not to death, at least. She didn't know how to comfort him. Didn't know what pain he was going through. She did the only thing she could, and that was to hold him tight. It made sense, now, why he refused to hope like Warmund. How painful must this be for both of them?
“Have you considered…” she hesitated a moment, then swallowed hard. “Have you considered that maybe Warmund isn't asking you to believe? He’s not asking for your hope. He’s asking for your permission to have hope himself.”
“I… I hadn't thought of it like that.”
Anna almost said that, of course, he hadn't, but that sounded too snarky and so she remained quiet.
After a moment, the dragon king sighed. “That doesn't change the fact that he challenged me. I can’t let that slide. Even if he is my son.”
“Well… maybe you could compromise. Or negotiate. Some such political thing. Allow him and his mages to have the information that has been collected from me already, and have them send your mages all the information that they have. Then we’re at least working toward the same goal, right?” Anna sighed. “And there will be a greater chance that I will finally be able to go home.”
He pulled away from her. “Are you really so miserable here, Anna?”
There was something in his voice that caught. Anna’s eyes widened. She rose on her elbow, staring at the shadow of his face, but there wasn't enough light to see his expression.
“That’s not it,” she insisted. “I do like it here. And I could get used to it. But… I never even got to say goodbye. My parents will think I just disappeared, my friends—”
Indulf drew in a ragged breath and she stopped. Isn't that exactly what happened to his daughter? She just disappeared without a trace. Her heart pounded. She understood Warmund’s point more than ever right now. Hesitantly, she found his face with her fingers and brushed them over his lips.
“I know it’s painful… but if there is a chance that your daughter was taken to my world—”
“My daughter is dead.”
Anna flinched at the ragged pain in his voice. He might say that he had mourned her and moved on, but she could tell that wasn't the case. Tears flowered in her eyes and she turned her face into his shoulder. More than anything, she wanted to take that pain away.
A lump rose in her throat as she thought of what it would be like for her own parents, for her to just vanish. Never knowing what happened to her. If she was alive or dead. A rush of unexpected homesickness went through her and she clung more tightly to Indulf. She didn't want to give up this world of dragons, but her own world was waiting…
“Indulf,” she whispered. “Oh, Indulf…”
“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to get angry.”
“It’s not that… I just… can’t imagine…” she sucked in a deep breath. “You lost your daughter. You couldn't do anything about that… but are you willing to lose your son, too?”
“I…” Indulf’s voice cracked. “I can't think of him as my son, Anna. He betrayed the crown. He betrayed me. He tried to kill me. I’ve already lost him. My boy…”
The grief was so strong it took her breath away.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Indulf buried his face in her hair.
She didn't know how she managed to do it, but Anna pressed on. “But… but did he really try to kill you? I know, I wasn't there, but did he try to kill you for real or was he just hoping to make you back down? You said you couldn't let yourself hope, so you wouldn't have to grieve Wildref again and again. Warmund, from what I have seen, never stopped grieving. He doesn't want to be king. He just wants his sister back. And that is a noble cause… I mean… he had a lot of support…”
“You agree with him.”
It was a statement, not a question. Anna chewed her lip before she slowly shrugged. “I don't know.”
“You agree with him.”
“You have already agreed that you should send me back, you have already had the mages looking into opening a portal for me. Having more people work on it while also extending an olive branch to Warmund? Can it hurt?”
“If he uses it to attack me or the kingdom again? Yes.”
Anna sighed. Indulf knew better than her the politics that they were dealing with. If he really believed that there was no use in doing this--
“But maybe you’re right.” His fingers combed through her hair. “From the start of this, I have been wishing I could go back and change things. If I don't take every chance to get my boy back, the regret will only build up. And if he…” He swallowed hard. “I will send a messenger in the morning. Extending an offer to see his goals realized. And I will send you back to the castle, to renew efforts…”
Gratitude welled up in her. Anna couldn't stop herself. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth. Indulf responded readily. His hands on her hips tightened, his mouth hungry, demanding as he teased her lips apart. He pushed a leg between her thighs and she dug her hands into his hair. Heat flared through her.
With a growl, Indulf rolled over her. He settled between her thighs, slightly above her as he began to inch her skirt up out of the way. He moved to her neck, sending tingles down her spine.
“I don't have protection,” he murmured into her skin.
Anna only clung to him tighter. “I don’t care.”
And she didn't. All she wanted was to have their bodies melded into one form, to have that blissful heat burning away every doubt in her mind. She wanted him and was more than willing to let herself get swept away in the sensations as he gave himself to her. Fully and without reservation, nothing between them but sweat-slick skin and their cries of pleasure.