Light Dragons 01 - Love in the Time of Dragons

desire that were always within me. The room darkened, the colors shifting from light to dark, large amber pools lit by tall standing candelabras, the light of the candles flickering and shimmering along the shadows of the room.
    Figures shimmered, too, the figure of a man and a woman.
    “A love token?” the woman said, smiling at the man. “For me?”
    “I made it for you when I sailed from Riga to France.”
    “It’s a tree,” she said, and her voice resonated within me, my lips parting to speak the next words with her. “A tree with hearts?”
    “A tree because I knew it would please you. Three branches for you, me, and the sept,” Baltic then and now said, one voice slightly echoing the other.
    I was pulled toward the figure of my other self as if I were made of nothing but light and shadow, hesitating a moment as I glanced back at Baltic. He nodded and I let myself merge with the memory of my former self. Baltic’s face changed as he, too, allowed himself to sink into his former being.
    “And two hearts,” Ysolde and I said at the same time as we smiled up at him.
    “I give you this token as a pledge of my heart,” he said, and tears pricked in my eyes at the love shining in his.
    Ysolde and I kissed him, clutching the token to our chest. “It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever received. I can’t believe you made it for me.”
    “You have sworn to be my mate, and for me there is no greater bond, but you were raised with mortals. I thought you would like it.”
    I was so touched, both at the time, and again now, that he would go to such lengths to please me. “It couldn’t have been easy to make it,” I told my Baltic as the other Ysolde cooed happily at the token before offering him her mouth again.
    The two Baltics shimmered, the image of one overlaying the other.
    “It wasn’t. I’m no artist. I almost severed my fingers a couple of times engraving the image in it.”
    “Make love to me,” I pleaded as the other Baltic scooped up my former self and carried her to the gigantic canopied bed.
    Baltic glanced at the memories of us when I moved against him, sliding my hands around to his back, stroking the muscles there, and wiggling my hips in brazen invitation. “Here? With them?”
    “They’re us. We’re in your bedroom. Please, Baltic. I’ve waited so long for you, and now I can have you. You wanted to claim me yesterday—well, now I’m all yours.”
    “First you are aroused by the thought of males loving males; then you wished to bare your breasts to everyone with a pair of eyes in his head; and now you want to engage in mating with other people?” He bent and picked me up, carrying me to the bed with an expression that mingled irritation with desire. “We will have a long discussion about these fantasies of yours, chérie . I am willing to oblige you this once, but I warn you—you are my mate, and I have no intention of sharing you.”
    He laid me down on the bed next to the other Ysolde, who was now clad in what I recognized as a thin chemise, the black- haired Baltic kneeling between her legs, slowly pushing the chemise higher and higher.
    “Whoa,” I said, unable to take my eyes from them, my own emotions as conflicted as Baltic’s. “This is . . . wow. On the one hand, it feels like we’re watching two people about to make love. But it’s us. So how can it feel so very . . . oooh. . . . kinky?”
    Baltic, who had been removing his clothing, glanced over at the ghostly pair before returning his attention to me. He stood next to me, his hands on his hips, his penis fully aroused and saluting me. “As I said, we will have a discussion about this at a later time.”
    I looked at his groin, making a mental measurement before sliding a quick look over at the other version of him.
    “What are you doing?” he asked, accusation heavy in his voice as he climbed onto the bed.
    “Nothing!” I said, quickly looking back at him.
    His black eyes narrowed on me as he, too, knelt between my legs. “You were comparing me to him, weren’t you?”
    “Of course I wasn’t! What gave you that idea?”
    “I saw you looking at my rod. You looked at it, and then looked at his. You were making comparisons!”
    “He is you,” I said, pointing at the other Baltic.
    “The fact remains that you were judging my rod against his.”
    “I was not!” He stared at me. I stared back at him. After about five seconds, I added, “Besides, it doesn’t matter. You’re bigger