perfectly symmetrical set of curves. Legs long and elegant, all the way to her pointed toes. She tossed back her hair and spread her arms skyward, as if she were the one worshiping an ancient pagan god, rather than a goddess presenting herself to Tallis.
If he was mad, he didn’t care.
“Whatever you want,” he said. “I can’t . . . I can’t resist anymore.”
“You make this sound so terrible, Tallis, my handsome one.”
“Beheading a priest? Of course it’s terrible.” Lust hummed through his body, burning with the strength of an angered animal caged by iron bars and prodded from all sides. He was aroused, hard, aching. He craved sanity, but he was willing to forgo it for what he really craved. Violence. Sex. The freeing release of both.
She shifted so that her mouth was merely inches from his. “Right now, you want to kill. You’d kill me if you could.”
“I would.”
“You won’t. You want to make me happy.”
She was nude, beautiful, and so very close. But that could’ve described any woman. The Sun, however, was hypnotic. Every time Tallis thought he could peer through the soft rays of light that surrounded her and blurred her features, she shifted. He saw only what she wanted him to see. She was the ultimate mystery, even when she presented herself as a vulnerable, stripped goddess.
“I’ll make you happy, too, Tallis. Let me show you.”
She kissed him.
Lip to lip.
Then deeper.
Without words she gave Tallis permission to unleash his gathering violence. They kissed like Pendray in the midst of a berserker rage, where pleasure and pain merged into a ferocious dance of push, pull, scratch, claw.
He had her in his arms. Yes.
He had her stretched beneath him. Yes.
But as Tallis gripped his ready cock and positioned the head between her wet folds, she was gone. He thrust into nothing. He bucked and fought, howling his frustration, spitting with anger at her and at himself. She’d taken him so far. She’d given him so much.
She’d snatched it all away.
He couldn’t see himself from that dream perspective, but he felt the embarrassment of kneeling and being unable to hide his erection. Shame burned his cheeks as he looked up. The Sun was hovering again, clothed again, smiling as if she hadn’t just teased him within an inch of insanity.
“Get back here,” he growled.
“You’re not giving orders, Tallis. We have so much to do. And I have more to do than show you my bare skin.”
He blinked and looked at her again—and froze. She was no longer hovering but riding a dragon as real as anything he’d ever beheld while conscious. The creature was even more real than the Sun, who continued to shift though myriad colors and forms.
“Do you see? You and I are bound. I will tease you, cajole you, even pity you. You will hate me and worship me. And in the end, you will do as I bid because we have both been chosen by the Great Dragon.”
The magnificent creature turned its face toward Tallis. Strong ridges outlined its brow and hid small, dark eyes. It wasn’t scaly but layered with what appeared to be endless varieties of fabric, in shades of black, orange, blue, purple, a fiery red—anything a waking eye could behold. The effect was radiant. Every movement rippled across its long torso and forked tail. It bared its teeth in a wide grimace. A lolling tongue appeared just before a burst of flame and a snort of smoke escaped.
Elegant and eternal, the Dragon was so humbling that Tallis hugged the ground in a deep bow. He shuddered. He could no longer look upon the creature that had birthed their race, knowing his eyes would burn to cinders and madness would follow.
The Sun rode the Dragon. A true goddess.
“You know what I say is true and just. Our people are dying.”
He didn’t lift his head. The dream had become the most astonishing nightmare. “We can reverse that?”
“Yes, we can. The Chasm isn’t fixed.”
Chilly air rippled across his back, accompanied by the swish of flapping wings. The Sun traced two fingers beneath his chin, lifting, so that they looked each other in the eye. The Great Dragon was near yet far in that way dreams could warp perspective, yet she still rode upon its back like Boudicca into battle. No mist or light or golden silk swirled between them. He clearly saw the color of her eyes. Amber. The swirling amber of a consuming fire—the fire breathed by the Dragon as it began