C5 Chapter 5

Strale Valewing forged toward the servant’s section of the Aerie, his long strides silent in the morning gloaming. The first hints of light blushed over the Aerie, shading the streets and buildings a delicate pink. Outside the Aerie walls, a myriad of birds were well into their morning songs, a combination of sweet notes and rather abrasive screeching, the resulting clamor echoed around the

Aerie buildings. They were in the Aerie, too, fluttering about the shrubs and fruit trees, flashing bright blue and green feathers, and leaving their droppings wherever they frequented.

Yet the Aerie’s streets were clean. Someone was obviously tasked with cleaning up after the creatures, and any other critters that wondered in from the forest. He had seen plenty of rodents and even monkeys in the Aerie’s streets. Was it a task of the servants? Admittedly, he had never before thought much about it. Or about servants. But now that Beska was one of them, he found his mind drawn to the subject. Repeatedly.

And drawn to her. Hers was an almost fragile beauty, haunting blue eyes surrounded by dark lashes, and pale, delicate skin broken only by the flushed pink of her lips. That, and one single scar which ran along her cheek. Fury edged along his spine, igniting a spark within his core before he tempered his thoughts to more palatable subjects. His dragon stirred but did not waken. Good. He didn’t want to alarm the girl.

Instead, he pictured the waterfall of chocolate curls, thick and long enough for a man to tangle his hands in while they…

He shook his head, dispelling that thought, too. Six, why couldn’t he control himself when it came to her?

He had seen, and bedded, plenty of beauties. More than he could count, none had the pull of this woman that he hadn’t even touched. It wasn’t just her outward appeal, though that was enough to tempt. There was something deeper within her, something hidden, but it called to him like the moon to the sea. An inner strength, passion, right below the surface, waiting for the right man to coax it out from beneath her shell.

He wanted to be that man.

He ran he fingers down the fine red silk of his tunic, adjusting the bejeweled cuffs. Intricate stones decorated the chest and worked their way down the arms in bands. They glinted in the growing light as he moved, drawing the gazes of nearby Shifters making use of the streets. The shirt was accented by a solid black belt at his waist, along with soft charcoal pants and high boots. He had left his hair loose about his shoulders, since women had often told him it was appealing that way.

The trouble was, Beska didn’t react like other women. The soft words and charming smiles that had many of his lovers melting into his embrace, or sometimes, quite literally, throwing themselves at him, had Beska sidling away and disappearing in the crowd.

Thus, he’d chosen today’s outfit with care. By no means the most ostentatious of his wardrobe, it highlighted his broad muscular figure and smooth sun-kissed skin, as well as announcing his wealth. Both things a woman considered when judging a man.

He hadn’t seen Beska since returning from the west and he relished the little twinge of anticipation that ran through him. Would she judge him fair?

He snorted at his thoughts, startling an odd look from a Shifter woman tending a nearby garden. Of course, he would pass judgment. He had the handsomest face of the Aerie, and twice the charm of the other lords combined. If she didn’t find his outward assets compelling, then he would simply have to find a way to spend time with her. Then, he could charm her to the rest of him.

The alley ahead of him expelled a lanky man, dressed in a neat, if drab, servant’s frock. He was followed closely by a blond woman also in the servant’s grays. They appeared to be coming from the direction Strale needed to turn.

“Pardon me,” Strale offered a grin that most women found irresistible. The woman stuttered to a halt and blinked at him; her cheeks reddened as she returned his smile politely. The man stopped as well, but he didn’t look as happy about it. Strale shrugged inwardly. He couldn’t help that he’d always had a way with women. They enjoyed his attentions, even if it often led to an air of dislike from the men around. “I am searching for a servant, a young woman, she’s slender and pale with dark hair and blue eyes.

Her name is Beska, do you, by chance, know of her?”

If he was lucky, he would get directions or even a guide to wherever it was Beska had been staying. It perplexed him that she would choose to work as a servant when he had offered the hospitality of the Aerie. And if not for his offer, the lady Gayriel had taken a liking to her, and Dynarys was more than capable of outfitting her with whatever she might need. Yet, despite his offer, before he knew what had become of her, she was already ensconced in the Aerie’s serving staff and had duties to see to. Since then, she rarely appeared, even with Gayriel’s direct invitations.

Made it cursed hard to leave any impression on her.

He had resorted to sneaking into her painting class as a model, shortly before his trip west, but to his chagrin, she hadn’t been there. Just a gathering of the Aerie’s dragon mates, elderly mates at that, all tittering and blushing at his nakedness...he’d begun to think that he had been purposely misinformed of her whereabouts.

The blond shook her head.

“There are far too many servants to know each by name. I’m sorry, Lord Dragon, I do not know Beska,” she smiled shyly, “but I’m sure I could help you with whatever you require.”

Strale flashed a grin to hide his regret for the question. Once, not so long ago, he wouldn’t have passed up such an offer. Now, he found that he had no interest in it; it was enough to cause him concern for his own libido. Still, he understood enough about women to know how to gentle his rejection.

He shook his head, looking regretful. “Alas, one such as you deserves more of a man’s attention than I could properly give.”

There. Problem solved, now to seek his goal.

But the blond was not dismayed. She ran the tip of her pink tongue over a plump bottom lip and moved toward him suggestively. “You could try.”

Six, she was persistent. Strale tried not to look like a man desperate for escape, but not before he caught the look of amusement on the male servant’s face.

Thought it was funny, did he?

“Strale.”

A familiar voice sliced through the conversation. The blond blinked and then stepped away, bowing her head meekly, a hint of apprehension seeping outward from her. Dynarys tended to have that effect on people.

Strale managed to hide his relief at the interruption behind a casual smile for his friend, he turned, and nodded respectfully.

“You are required for a security meeting,” dark eyebrows pinched above narrowed amber eyes. The man’s face was a portrait of tight muscles and hard lines, which matched his monochromatic black outfit...well, besides the shining blade hilts that stuck out from his body like the spines of an angry beast.

On reflection, the woman’s apprehension was likely justified.

One day, Strale would address the man’s distaste of color...or fashion, but today, he was glad for it. Except for one thing: he wasn’t part of the Aerie’s security force.

He stepped beyond hearing range of the servants. The man counted himself as dismissed immediately and left to wherever it was he had been heading when Strale interrupted. The woman lingered just a moment longer, casting a wishful look his direction. Firestriker glowered at her, he seemed forbidding this morning, even for Dynarys.

“What happened?”

“There was an assassination attempt this morning. The Aerie is compromised,” he ran an agitated hand through his hair, leaving black spikes in its wake. “I need lords I can trust.”

“The target?”

Dynarys narrowed his eyes, a muscle along his jaw twitching. “The Archon.”

Strale frowned. That should be next to impossible. While he was the highest political target, the members of the council made more sense. The Archon’s tower was surrounded by Lords and Shifters. The different races had little trust for each other, but that led to higher security. Unless the Archon had left the protected space, but he rarely did that. The man preferred the solitude of his throne room and his books. The only other option was if the assassin had access to the tower without alerting the forces that held it. A traitor. Or maybe the same traitor...or group of traitors.

“Where?’

“The throne room.”

Strale stifled a growl. The dragon stirred within him, woken by the flash of anger bubbling to the surface. The very center of the Aerie amid all the warriors and guards. This was far from a simple threat. To get that far, the traitor must have connections.

“Who else knows?”

“You are the first. I will seek out Cillumn next,” he scanned the street, and then the skies, forever vigilant.

They still had time, then. Some of the tension that had been tangling around Strale’s emotions subsided slightly.

“He is on sentry duty this morning, flying the forest, but his shift will end in an hour. I do not trust the Aerie’s war room, so we will meet at my apartments.”

Strale shook his head, one of Dynarys’ eyebrows crawled upward toward his forehead.

“There is nowhere in the Aerie that is safe,” he shrugged.

Dynarys frowned at him, but Strale was used to disapproval from his general, despite his steadfast loyalty.

As a warrior, Strale’s duty was to be obedient, to trust Dynarys’ judgment in all things.

As a friend, Strale knew that this problem had grown too large for one man alone.

If they were going to root out the traitor and keep the Aerie from collapsing in on itself, then Dynarys was going to need friends. Strale could withstand his reproach.

“Are you suggesting my private quarters are compromised?” the man was frowning, his lips pulled into a tight line. It might have been an accusation, but Strale had the feeling he was simply voicing a concern that Dynarys had come across himself.

“Can you keep your lady away should we meet there?”

This time Dynarys did snarl. Amber flare in his eyes and he bared his teeth. Strale raised a hand.

“I am not implicating her; I’m only trying to protect her. Wasn’t it your apartment that was targeted with poison several weeks ago?”

The snarl bled into a frustrate groan, and the amber of his eyes dimmed. He gave Strale an exasperated look that Strale interpreted as desperation.

“Where would we meet that is safe, then? If the traitor has fingers into my home, do you think anywhere in the Aerie is safe?”

“Perhaps not in the Aerie.”

It took a second for Dynarys to catch his meaning, but when he did, the dark look that crossed his face was enough to frighten anyone. Strale stood his ground. If he was going to earn Dynarys’ wrath, he might as well go to the extreme.

“No,” Dynarys growled.

“Scet is still camped within the forest nearby, his pack is unrelated to our own. There are none with him who may possibly be the traitor.”

Dynarys raked a hand through his hair, this time the gesture looked nearly painful.

“He can be trusted; I vouch for him myself.”

Dynarys muttered something foul. Strale didn’t quite catch it, but it sounded like the Shifter’s loyalty wasn’t the problem.

“Are you aware he has taken a mate?” Strale mentioned casually, turning from his original destination, and making way back toward the main streets of the Aerie, and the gate that would lead into the forest. He would have to leave his encounter with Beska until later. She was safely ensconced in the Aerie and he had plenty of time to woo her. This was a matter that couldn’t wait.

“So I’ve been informed,” Dynarys sighed and fell into step beside him. “It doesn’t help. The dragon is illogical, at best. The man in me understands what he did, appreciates it even. The beast just wants him dead.”

“Everyone knows of the beast’s distaste for the Shifter; what happened on the delegation is no secret. Which is why no one will suspect us there. Whoever the traitor is, or traitors are, they’re deep in the Aerie. We have to assume they know us. If we are going to outwit them, we must overcome the drives of our dragons.”

The corner of Dynarys’ lips quirked upward, he glanced at Strale sidelong. “I would not have expected such...thought out...advice from you.”

Strale flashed a grin at a passing Shifter woman. She flinched at him and then scuttled away in the manner Shifter women tended to.

“Let’s keep such revelations between ourselves. I work hard on this image.”

This time, Dynarys smiled fully, an expression Strale rarely seen on the man unless he was looking at his mate.

“As you wish.”