Terra's Victory (Destiny's Trinities Book 7) Read Free

to her.
    Sera hurried over and sat on his lap. Blake’s hug was warm and loving, the complete opposite of the stiff expression her father had managed.
    Diego pulled out the chair next to them and picked up her hand. “Was Blake right? Do they want you to go back?”
    Sera lifted her head up from Blake’s shoulder. Her big eyes were always crystalline and mesmerizing in their limpid quality. Now they had tears trembling on the brink.
    Diego’s gut twisted.
    “They want to close down the portal, shut off the gate between here and there,” she whispered. “And my mother…she’s….” Her tears spilled.
    “Dead?” Diego breathed.
    Sera’s face worked. “She may as well be dead,” she said, her voice strained.
    Diego made himself ask the question, even though he feared the answer. “Are you? Going back?”
    Sera hesitated, then shook her head.
    The relief that speared him was almost as painful as the fear had been.
    “But…Lindal….” she whispered.
    Diego scowled. “What about him?”
    “My father wants him to take the throne. If he doesn’t, there is no one else.”
    “If he does, that will weaken the primary trinity,” Blake said quietly.
    “If he doesn’t, the elves could fall to the Grimoré,” Diego said softly. He shook his head. “Well, damn. I actually feel sorry for the son of morning.”
    Sera’s smile was weak. It was there, though. “Can I be there when you tell him that?” she asked.
    Diego pulled on her hand, bringing her over to his knee. He slid his hand under her skirt, feeling hot, soft flesh and taut muscles beneath. His own body tightened. “You know I can never deny you any pleasure,” he whispered and licked the base of her neck.
    Sera shuddered. Then she caught his chin. “No, wait.”
    “Yes, do wait for me,” Blake complained.
    “No, I mean wait . I was thinking.”
    “That’s not good. The merest touch of my hands should wipe any thought from your mind, except the desire to meet my every wish,” Diego said.
    Blake rolled his eyes and Sera smiled. She rested her hand against his chest. “I’m serious.”
    “You’re too serious,” Diego assured her. “I’ve seen undertakers with more cheerful expressions than the one you were wearing when you stepped inside.”
    “Not anymore, thanks to you,” she said and kissed him. It was a brief kiss, but held promise. Sera had moved beyond the shock of her father’s visit.
    Satisfied, Diego picked up her hand from his chest and gave it to Blake to hold. “You were thinking,” he prompted her.
    She nodded. “I have never been more grateful for the bonding that holds us together than I was just then, when my father demanded I return. It gave me the perfect excuse to say no. Only, it got me thinking. What happens when this war with the Grimoré is over?”
    Something small and cold shifted in Diego’s chest. “What do you mean, what happens? We all get drunk for a week, spend a month in bed and sleep for a year.” That he couldn’t do two of those things was a mere technicality in his mind. He’d make up for it with the one thing he could do.
    Sera touched his cheek with her palm and he could feel the warmth of her touch. It wasn’t just body temperature. She was an Elven princess and they did that glowing thing. Too, there were her healing skills, for which touch was the primary conduit. All of it meant that contact with Sera was far, far different than with anyone else, including Blake. Her hands against him always made Diego feel a wash of peace. It also made his heart flutter, although usually in a good way.
    This time, he didn’t like the uneasy sensation it produced. He kept still, revealing none of his wariness.
    “I mean,” Sera said patiently, “what happens with the bonding? Does it end when the Grimoré do? Do we suddenly have nothing holding us together?”
    Blake’s fingers must have clamped down on hers, for Sera winced and looked at him.
    “Of course it doesn’t end,” Blake said