never went back. I think he and Sariana feel they must cling to each other while they reside here in the west. There are so few people from the eastern continent who actually live here, you know. Perfectly natural that Sariana and Etion should stick together. Sariana is so lonely. She hides it well, of course. You know how those easterners are about showing emotion. But we all know she’s homesick. Etion always has a cheering effect on her, though. She’ll be fine this afternoon after she’s had lunch with him. You’ll see.”
Gryph could still taste Sariana’s mouth. His body was still pulsing painfully with the instant response he had experienced when he’d caught hold of her and kissed her. For a moment during the embrace he had known without a doubt that he had touched her in ways that were not just physical in nature. And she had responded.
Shieldmate.
He was certain of that now. He had found a potential Shieldmate. A woman he could make his true wife. A woman who could give him a son. The knowledge dazed him. The thought of her going off to spend the warm, lazy morning with another man sent a rush of frustrated heat and rage through his veins.
The realization that the other male was undoubtedly far more socially acceptable to Sariana than Gryph would ever be was enough to ruin the rest of the day for him.
Chapter
3
TWO days later, Sariana left for another engagement with Etion Rakken. This time she was meeting him for late morning tea. Such outings were always welcomed by her. Lately, however, with the pressures of dealing with the Shield, the Avylyns’ upcoming ball, as well as the demands of her normal schedule, Sariana was more grateful than ever for the brief moments of escape.
The early summer sunshine warmed the wide stone sidewalks and the cobbled streets of downtown Serendipity. Sariana was accustomed to the boisterous, outrageously dressed crowds that thronged the squares and avenues of the capital. In her elegantly restrained attire she was the one who stood out.
Pausing near one of the many sparkling fountains that graced virtually every corner of the city, Sariana prepared to cross the street. She was getting better at the deceptively simple task but she still exercised caution. Lifting her skirts she stepped off the sidewalk.
And was nearly run down by a dragonpony being ridden at full speed.
“By the Captain’s Blood, lady, watch where you’re going;” the pony rider yelled cheerfully as he thundered past. The pony’s clawed feet scraped on the stones mere inches from Sariana’s boots.
“Here, now. Where did you come from?” shouted a wagonmaster as he sawed at the reins. The wagon swerved around Sariana with a dramatic flourish.
Sariana lifted her chin and ignored both close calls. She had learned that only cool arrogance, a fine disdain for danger and the ability to calculate distances with great precision guaranteed a safe crossing. Carriage drivers and riders tended to view the contest between themselves and pedestrians as a glorious, endless game.
Sariana prided herself on not having yet sunk to the point of swearing at the flamboyant drivers and riders who challenged her right to cross the streets. There were times, however, when she wondered how much longer she could restrain herself under the trying conditions. She had lived in the Avylyn household long enough to acquire a wide assortment of colorful phrases.
She dreaded the day she would start using those phrases because it would mean she had allowed herself to be dragged one step deeper into this crazy culture.
She made it across the street, narrowly avoiding being trampled by a teenager on a high spirited dragonpony, and saw with relief that Etion Rakken was waiting for her in the usual spot. His deep red hair shone in the sun and his dark eyes regarded her with genuine appreciation as she walked toward him. He was sitting under an awning at a popular sidewalk cafe.
Rakken was wearing a version of the local
Gryph could still taste Sariana’s mouth. His body was still pulsing painfully with the instant response he had experienced when he’d caught hold of her and kissed her. For a moment during the embrace he had known without a doubt that he had touched her in ways that were not just physical in nature. And she had responded.
Shieldmate.
He was certain of that now. He had found a potential Shieldmate. A woman he could make his true wife. A woman who could give him a son. The knowledge dazed him. The thought of her going off to spend the warm, lazy morning with another man sent a rush of frustrated heat and rage through his veins.
The realization that the other male was undoubtedly far more socially acceptable to Sariana than Gryph would ever be was enough to ruin the rest of the day for him.
Chapter
3
TWO days later, Sariana left for another engagement with Etion Rakken. This time she was meeting him for late morning tea. Such outings were always welcomed by her. Lately, however, with the pressures of dealing with the Shield, the Avylyns’ upcoming ball, as well as the demands of her normal schedule, Sariana was more grateful than ever for the brief moments of escape.
The early summer sunshine warmed the wide stone sidewalks and the cobbled streets of downtown Serendipity. Sariana was accustomed to the boisterous, outrageously dressed crowds that thronged the squares and avenues of the capital. In her elegantly restrained attire she was the one who stood out.
Pausing near one of the many sparkling fountains that graced virtually every corner of the city, Sariana prepared to cross the street. She was getting better at the deceptively simple task but she still exercised caution. Lifting her skirts she stepped off the sidewalk.
And was nearly run down by a dragonpony being ridden at full speed.
“By the Captain’s Blood, lady, watch where you’re going;” the pony rider yelled cheerfully as he thundered past. The pony’s clawed feet scraped on the stones mere inches from Sariana’s boots.
“Here, now. Where did you come from?” shouted a wagonmaster as he sawed at the reins. The wagon swerved around Sariana with a dramatic flourish.
Sariana lifted her chin and ignored both close calls. She had learned that only cool arrogance, a fine disdain for danger and the ability to calculate distances with great precision guaranteed a safe crossing. Carriage drivers and riders tended to view the contest between themselves and pedestrians as a glorious, endless game.
Sariana prided herself on not having yet sunk to the point of swearing at the flamboyant drivers and riders who challenged her right to cross the streets. There were times, however, when she wondered how much longer she could restrain herself under the trying conditions. She had lived in the Avylyn household long enough to acquire a wide assortment of colorful phrases.
She dreaded the day she would start using those phrases because it would mean she had allowed herself to be dragged one step deeper into this crazy culture.
She made it across the street, narrowly avoiding being trampled by a teenager on a high spirited dragonpony, and saw with relief that Etion Rakken was waiting for her in the usual spot. His deep red hair shone in the sun and his dark eyes regarded her with genuine appreciation as she walked toward him. He was sitting under an awning at a popular sidewalk cafe.
Rakken was wearing a version of the local
Similar Books
