Since I hadn't been to the Human Realm for weeks, I'd be fine to go back in time there. Keeping track of where I'd been and when had become second nature to me but I still kept a calendar to be sure.
“Who's Jake?” Arach scowled.
“Oh, he's the Intare who took these pictures,” I explained. “What I'm trying to say is that we'll have a head start. The flowers might not even be there yet. There won't likely be anything you can do.”
“You forget that I have a Ring of Remembrance too, Vervain,” Arach said patiently. “I can travel to the Human Realm with you now and use my ring to return to Faerie when we're finished. I won't be gone for more than a minute.”
“Right.” I made a self-conscious huff. “Of course. Sorry.”
Arach's ring had, in a way, been the spoils of war. It had belonged to the last Queen of the Earth Kingdom, who had conspired to kill me so many times that she was finally executed for it. King Cian gave Arach her ring afterward. I often forgot that he had it.
“We'll meet Prince Lugh at the Great Tree, High King,” Arach said firmly. “Shall we say midday?” Arach glanced at me, then added, “Give or take an hour.”
“Very well,” Cian agreed. “I'll let Lugh know.”
As soon as the mirror cleared, becoming a reflective surface again, Arach's entire demeanor shifted. He growled, tossed the photographs on the vanity, snatched me up, and ran to the bed like a Viking on his first raid.
Chapter Four
I was in the midst of my second orgasm when I realized that Arach's behavior—and that of every other faerie in the realm—could be a symptom of whatever was causing the magic of Faerie to spread to the Human Realm. I mean, I'm not an idiot; I did previously realize that there was a connection, but I had ignored the fact that the continuation of this “flourishing” was an indication that our efforts to seal the paths had failed.
“Arach,” I panted as my body subsided into twitching, “we need to get to the Great Tree.”
“We will,” he murmured just before sucking a nipple into his mouth.
I clutched him closer, all thoughts of leaving flying out the window. Arach was still as hard as stone inside me and he started to move again, grinding his pelvis against a wondrous place with every languorous thrust. He rose onto his forearms, silken blood-red locks falling around his feral face, and stared down at me with molten dragon eyes.
“I want another child, A Thaisce,” he whispered as if saying it too loud might startle me.
It still did. I winced, part of me knowing that this was also a side-effect of whatever was happening in Faerie.
“Not yet, Dragon,” I said gently. “You know that I can't give you another child until—”
“Don't mention them!” Arach snarled, his thrusts becoming more brutal. “Not now.”
“Okay,” I whispered and stroked the sides of his face. “Okay. It's just you and me. But I'm not ready to have another baby.”
The crimson scales that usually highlight Arach's cheekbones had spread down the sides of his face, his neck, and all the way to his groin. It was an indication of arousal and as such, was absolutely normal and even expected for intimate moments. I had sprouted scales as well—golden scales outlining my body from temples to belly. It only happened when I made love to Arach—his dragon called mine forth—but with my refusal, more of Arach's dragon burst forth in the form of claws and sharpened features.
Arach yanked out of me but only to flip me onto my hands and knees. He shoved my thighs apart, settled himself between them, and angled back inside me. With a violent shove, he seated himself deep and started a ferocious pounding. I braced myself with one hand against the headboard as my husband emptied his lust and frustration into me. My dragon snarled inside me—not in anger but arousal. She liked it rough—claws, teeth, and fire excited her. I started to buck back against Arach, my skin heating, and the bed began to shake.
“More,” Arach muttered. “More.”
I frowned through my draconian lust haze and looked back at him over my shoulder. Arach's expression had gone feral and focused, his stare locked on where our bodies merged. The muscles in his arms and chest clenched and released with wild beauty and his lips pulled back to bare his lengthened canines. The slap of his flesh against mine sounded like the cracks of a whip.
“Arach,” I called to him. “Arach!”
His stare lifted to mine.
“I love you,” I said gently, softening my gaze as well.
Arach blinked and jerked as if I'd slapped him. Then his body tightened and he roared out his release. His talons receded as his grip on my hips tightened. Arach emptied into me and I felt it—a hot rush coating my core. It was as if his body had been boiling and had to transfer some of its heat to save itself. Which was ridiculous. We're dragons; we breathe flames into each other as part of our foreplay and when we get really randy, we literally set the bed on fire. But we hadn't this time. I had felt the call of Arach's dragon but something had stopped me from tumbling into a blaze with him.
Reason. Cold hard reason curling in the back of my mind. The cooling truth that froze into ice and sent a shiver down my spine: something was very wrong in Faerie.
Chapter Five
I put my human clothing back on since we were headed to the Human Realm and Arach donned some of the clothes I'd bought for him to wear when he visited. In addition to his jeans, fisherman's sweater, and boots, he also needed to do a small glamour to cover his scales and eyes. His hair could be explained by dye and I suppose his eyes could have been contacts but even had they been contacts, they would have drawn attention. Normal people don't go around wearing reptilian contacts every day. So, Arach covered his bright, yellow gaze with chocolate brown, softened his fey features, and hid his glossy dragon scales beneath a glamour of pale skin. He looked as human as he could.
As Isleen, a duchess but also our chatelaine, readied the carriage for us, we said goodbye to our twin sons. They were out back, behind the castle, in the playground with several other children, including Hunter, the Hidden Ones kids, and the Phooka pups. The only adult present was Granuaile, my boys' old nanny who now how the job of surreptitiously looking after them. Except she wasn't being so surreptitious about it now since she'd had to take on babysitting a whole mess of kids in addition to her two charges.
“Why are you all alone with them?” I asked Granuaile as Arach and I stepped up.
“I don't know, my Queen,” Granuaile said with some distress. “The children came out on their own and I thought someone should look after them.”
“Damn,” I muttered. “We don't have time for this.”