Chapter 237: Well, Good Morning To You Too, Brother
The cold water of the bath did nothing to ease the tension in his body. The dragon was still roaring, still demanding he return to her, still clawing at his skin to claim her again, to mark her more completely, to ensure that every being in this palace understood that she belonged to him.
But Thorne forced the beast back into submission.
He dressed with efficient movements....dark trousers, a black tunic, the dragon runes along his shoulders glowing faintly with barely controlled power. He caught his reflection in the mirror and paused.
His eyes were different. There was something primal, something that hadn’t been there before. The claiming....not the ritual claiming, but the physical claiming of her body, had awakened something in him that went deeper than he’d anticipated.
The dragon wasn’t just satisfied. The dragon was bound.
He moved back into the bedroom.
Morgana was still sleeping, exactly as he’d left her. One arm stretched across the space where he’d been, still reaching for him even in unconsciousness. The sheet had slipped down, exposing more of the marks he’d left on her body.....on her collarbone, across her shoulders, along her ribs.
He moved to the bed and bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, and he breathed in her scent....fever-sweat and arousal and something uniquely, completely Morgana.
"Sleep, little ward," he murmured against her skin. "Sleep and heal."
Then he straightened and walked to the door.
***
Silas stood there, And beside him stood Rowan her eyes carefully fixed on the wall ahead, her entire body maintaining perfect formal posture.
Both bowed deeply as Thorne emerged.
Thorne looked directly at Rowan. "Take good care of her, Rowan. She is to rest today. No unnecessary activities. She is to heal."
Rowan’s eyes met his briefly before dropping back to the formal position.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I will. I give you my word."
Thorne held her gaze for just a moment longer, making sure she understood the gravity of what he was saying.
Then he turned and walked down the corridor, Silas immediately falling into step behind him.
The moment he was gone, Rowan drew in a deep breath and opened the door to the chamber.
What she saw made her eyes widen slightly.
Morgana lay sprawled across the dark silk sheets, completely naked. And covering almost every inch of her visible skin were marks....handprints on her hips, bite marks on her shoulders, marks on her neck where hands had gripped her.
Rowan’s sharp intake of breath was audible.
She closed the door quietly behind her and moved to the bed, her eyes taking in every mark, her mind processing exactly what had happened in this room last night. She understood perfectly. More than that, she understood what it MEANT.
***
The throne room was already filled with the presence of the two other kings when Thorne entered.
Draeven sat upon his throne, his red dragon runes glowing faintly along his arms....INFERNUS stirring beneath the surface as always, waiting for something to burn.
Kaelen stood near the great windows, his pale eyes staring out at the palace grounds, his entire body radiating restless energy.
The moment Thorne stepped into the room, both of them turned.
Their pupils dilated simultaneously.
It was subtle...so subtle that no human would have noticed. But Thorne felt it like a physical touch. They SENSED him. Through the bond, they KNEW. They could smell Morgana on him. The magic that had erupted during the claiming, still clung to him like an aura.
Kaelen’s entire body went tense. His jaw clenched. His hands formed fists at his sides.
Draeven’s expression shifted....a slight tilt of his head, a subtle acknowledgment of what his brother had done while they were sitting here, trapped in this throne room.
Thorne walked across the marble floor with unhurried steps and took his seat on his own throne.
The moment he was seated, Draeven turned to him.
"Well, good morning to you too, brother."
Thorne turned to face him, the faintest smile playing at his lips.
"Good morning, brother. What do we have here?"
Before Draeven could answer, Elder Cedric emerged from the shadows where he’d been waiting.
He bowed deeply.
"Good morning, Your Majesty. I received a letter this morning from Carrick. He claims to have an issue that he believes the council of elders should address, because the kings, it seems, are not paying proper attention to the matter."
Thorne leaned back slightly in his throne, his dark eyes narrowing.
"What exactly is he saying we are not paying attention to, Elder?"
Cedric straightened, his ancient eyes moving between the three brothers.
"He claims to have come with the solution to the problem we’ve been searching for. The one regarding the Mother of Dragons prophecy." Cedric paused, and his next words were careful, measured. "He also claims that the king’s ward has become a problem that needs to be addressed. He suggests that she has... interfered with your search."
The temperature in the throne room dropped.
Thorne’s hand gripped the arm of his throne so hard the wood creaked slightly.
"What exactly did he say is the problem, Cedric? And how exactly has Morgana become a problem?"
Cedric’s gaze remained steady.
"He claims, Your Majesty, that the girl has bewitched you....all three of you. That her presence, her magic, whatever she is has clouded your judgment. Made you unable to identify what you’ve truly been searching for. He claims that the white-haired girl....Astraea, is the Mother of Dragons, and that because of Morgana, you cannot see the truth."
Before anyone else could respond, Kaelen turned to face Cedric.
His pale eyes were bright, burning with something dangerous.
"So you’re saying," Kaelen said slowly, "that Carrick is claiming the white-haired girl is the Mother of Dragons? And because of Morgana, we are unable to recognize what we’ve been searching for? Is that what you’re attempting to say, Elder Cedric?"