“Siobhan.” She reached out, taking his hand. “My name is Siobhan.”
He took her fingers in his and bowed over them, brushing his lips across the tips. Heat rushed along her skin from the tips of her fingers all the way to her cheeks.
She tugged her fingers back, resisting the urge to rub the tingle on her skin away. “Do...do I know you?” She knew she’d remember if she’d ever met anyone with eyes like his, but somehow she kept feeling a sense of déjà-vu, and she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing—or a dangerous one.
He smiled, as if holding a particularly good secret. “No, Siobhan, you don’t know me. Yet.”
She grabbed her jacket, put it on and fastened each toggle, feeling like she was donning a coat of armor against his easy familiarity. She glanced at her knapsack and sword. She hesitated and gave him a quick look. She didn’t know him, and much as nice as he was being to her, she didn’t trust him. In the icy world she’d grown up in, smooth pretty surfaces were likely to be death traps.
He followed her gaze. “You can take them if you like, but you’ll be perfectly safe with me. And we are coming back.” He waited patiently by the door as if her decision didn’t affect him and he had all the time in the world.
He’d been nothing but kind, but did she trust him? If it were her village she’d be offending her host by carrying her weapons in his house, but this wasn’t her village. And Cairngloss was definitely no one’s house.
She picked up her knapsack and put it on, strapping the sword on the top. Ignoring his small smile, she followed him to the ornately carved door. Kind he might be, but he was a stranger. And right now she couldn’t afford to trust anyone.
Chapter Four
Siobhan followed Doyle out into the hallway, through the narrow door. “So, the walls down here are rock, but the door looks like it was built by a master craftsman.”
“We’re at the secret back door to the palace.” He waved a hand. Lights sprang to life all along the short corridor illuminating three more doors and a hallway that curved out of sight. “To your left and around that bend is the dragon’s lair. I’d stay away from there if I were you. He’s grumpy when he’s sleeping.” He pointed to the other way. “The rooms along this corridor were built by the gnomes in case of an emergency. When I got here they were mostly filled with weapons and moldering supplies, but I’ve made it more comfortable by moving some of the furniture from upstairs here.”
“How long have you been here? How long have you been with the dragon?”
He seemed to almost skip a step. “Let’s see. I—I mean we—moved in a few hundred years ago.” He stopped at the next door. It was carved with a scene of a gnome taking on a six-legged insect four times his size. Doyle lifted the latch and opened it. Inside, the lights flickered on. “Library, work room, etcetera.”
This room was smaller than the bedroom and furnished with a large high work table, covered with books and scrolls. A high stool was pulled up to the table. Along the walls was a ragged collection of shelves of various heights, all lined with books.
“I’ve never seen so many books.” She walked in and touched a gold-leafed leather binding. “There’s more there than I ever thought even existed.”
“There was a prince here for a while. I didn’t socialize with him. He was imprisoned in the upper palace with the ogres and the Black Queen placed a wicked protection spell over his section of the palace. No need to piss off any of the Underhill queens for no good reason. After he finally broke free of her spells, I stripped his library and brought some of the more interesting books down here to add to my collection.”
“There are more?”
He smiled. “There are more. If you can’t find something to read here, I’ll head up and see what else is left in the main part of the palace.” He backed out of the room and she followed, trailing her fingers along the backs of the books, reluctant to leave. “The next room has weapons. I only kept a few of what was here to begin with, and of course I’ve added to the pile over the years.”
He opened the door. She couldn’t even see into this room because of the racks of glittering swords and axes and knives that ran floor to ceiling, and covered nearly every inch of the floor.
“You kept just a few?” She rolled her eyes. “Can you even get in here?”
He peered into the room. “I can. I don’t need to very often. I have my own weapons.” He shut the door and led her to the last room he used as cold storage. This one was nearly empty, just a covered pot with what she assumed was her soup, some bags and boxes, and half a deer carcass hanging from the ceiling. It was also freezing.
She backed out of it fast. “Where did the gnomes go? I know they left a long time ago, but my parents never talk about it.” In fact her parents discouraged discussion of anything to do with Cairngloss as if even talking about the place would attract ghosts. Or the dragon.
“They fled down south when Maeve took over up here.”
She did a double take and shot a look over her shoulder. “Do you mean the queen?”
“Yes.”
Her voice dropped. “We never call her by her first name.” A chill ran down her spine and she wrapped her arms tight around her body. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get rid of the cold. She, who had always loved the winter, now feared the touch of ice in her veins.
“Hey.” He reached out and took her hand. His hand was so hot it almost burned her icy cold one. “You’re here now. With me. I will protect you as long as you are under my roof.”
“But you’re just a manservant.”
He squeezed her hand. “Atavantador will make sure none under his protection come to harm.”
He seemed sincere, but the dragon hadn’t pledged his protection, only that she must stay and serve him and hide from the queen. But what happened when she left this place?
And she had to leave. Bosco was still out there. And while a hundred years had passed and he must have grown to be an adult, to her he was still the boy with the squeaky voice who had stepped in front of her with the fortitude of a man.
She had to find him. And if he couldn’t be found? That only left her one choice. Revenge against the queen. None of which would please the dragon.
DOYLE WAS SURPRISED how much he enjoyed showing Siobhan around his lair. He’d been here by himself for so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to talk to someone on a regular basis. And the fact that she was a beautiful woman wasn’t lost on him. Not at all, especially in this shape.
Even though she’d just come out of hibernieth, every move she made—bending over to look at a weapon, brushing against him through a tight doorway, walking in front of him with her hips swaying—reminded him he’d been alone a long time. Perhaps too long.
At the end of the steep passage deep beneath the mountain, they drew close to an outcropping of rocks. Magic prickled along his skin and he resisted raising his shields and attracting the attention of the ancient guardians sleeping in the next cave. “Can you feel it?” He kept his voice low.
“There’s so much magic, it presses down on you.” Her eyes were wide in the glow of the lantern.
“The passage to the upper portions of Cairngloss lies just through here, but it’s not safe. You’d have to pass through the crystal cavern. Beautiful to behold, but full of dark gnome magic.”
“Is that where the library is?” She moved to squeeze into the narrow passage, but he touched her shoulder, to hold her back. A tingle of sexual energy passed into his hand. She glanced back at him, lowering her long lashes over her eyes. Finally, reluctantly, he released her, wanting nothing more than to keep touching her, stroking down her arm to the exposed skin of her wrist. Take her hand in his and show her how arousing it could be to—
“Doyle?” She was staring at him, a small line crinkling the skin of her forehead.
Draco’s claws, he was horny if this woman barely out of her icy prison had this effect on him. How long had it been since he’d gone out and found a female companion in one of
the local villages or on one of the other worlds he used to visit? A year? Two? He shook off his preoccupation with his lack of a sex life. “There’s nothing up there anymore but miles of empty rooms, hobgoblins, and the bones of Prince Kian’s companions.”
She turned to him. “Why are you trying to scare me from going there?”
He shook his head at her and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not trying to scare you, you should be scared. There is magic in Cairngloss that should be left alone. I steer clear of it and so should you.”
Her brow furrowed as if she were trying to figure out his angle.
Damn, this was going to be harder than he thought. He was far too attracted to her. She was more than charming, she was entrancing, with her deep black eyes and long white hair. Everything about her went straight to his cock. He forced himself to take an additional step back.
She stared past him at the thin tendrils of purple magic lying like a spider’s web over the entrance to the crystal cave. “What’s that? That’s Tuathan magic, isn’t it? It looks very powerful. Is that the reason you don’t go this way?”
“That’s the spell that held the prince prisoner. It covers every section of the complex but mine. It shouldn’t harm you. It was designed to keep him in, not others out.”
“Then why are you trying to scare me?”
“I’m trying to keep you safe. There are magics beyond this wall that are more than you can handle.”
“I’m not a child.” She lifted her chin and faced him head on. He couldn’t help but admire her courage, but he couldn’t have her wandering around getting into things she didn’t understand and couldn’t handle.
“No, you are most definitely not a child.” He looked her up and down and her fair skin turned a heated red. “But the last time you tangled with a Tuathan queen didn’t go so well. Did it?”
“No.” The light died from her eyes and her shoulders slumped. “I think I’m getting tired.”
Her skin had paled and he frowned at her. “We’ve done too much today. We’ll head back.” They turned around, starting the long walk back to the lair. “Just remember, I have no reason to lie to you about the rest of Cairngloss.”
She laughed. “Well, of course you don’t. You’re elvatian, right? None of us can lie.”
He shook his head at her and extended his arm, offering her his elbow over a rough patch of fallen rock. “My lady, shall I escort you back to your chamber?”
She nodded, the spark was back in her eyes, but her face was still too pale for his pleasure.
My, she was an innocent. There was no need to tell her that he wasn’t elvatian at all. And that yes, dragons could—and frequently did—lie.
He’d left her in her room, sleeping off the effects of another meal, and had spent the intervening hours stocking up on food for her. He really was going to have to find a better solution. How could someone so thin put so much food away. He went hunting for himself, but he couldn’t see her flying with him and diving into a herd of deer for supper.
He paced the open spot he’d left on the floor of his lair, carefully keeping his tail from dragging into the piles of treasure. Maeve thought she could control him by refusing him his due? Mess with the balance of power? She’d have to think again. He’d take care of her. Soon. He’d been waiting a long time to do so. But until he figured out how to detach her from the Winter Palace, he’d have to bide his time.
He curled up on his trove, nose to tail, and dozed, thinking about the past and letting the magic stored in the precious metals soak into his skin.
Seven male dragons—not true nest brothers, but bonded by their word—had come looking for a new world with a strong source of magic that could feed their queens. Each one had been responsible for an egg—the last queen eggs of their population nearly decimated by war. As queen eggs were unformed and would blend with the habitat they were incubated in, each of the drakes had hidden an egg in a spot beneficial to their type of dragon on the world of Underhill.
At the time, Underhill was under populated, with no dragons but with an abundance of the magic they thrived on. Being male dragons and not known for their patience, they’d gone back to their own world to fight the last fight and wait the thousand years it took for a queen egg to hatch.
When their world had finally been lost to the black dragon, Vollenth, Doyle had come back to check on the egg he’d hidden in a cold remote piece of Underhill where it should have been safely developing into a baby ice dragon. But the few hundred years he’d been gone had been too long.
Instead of a few standing stones anchoring the mists of Underhill and surrounded by mountains empty of people, he’d found an ice fortress built on top of the egg’s hiding place. And sitting on top, like a toad on a mud pile, the self-titled Winter Queen.
He’d raged and nearly razed her to the ground. But the clever bitch had insinuated her life force into each and every wall. If he killed her, the palace would implode, taking the queen egg with it. His only saving grace was that, as far as he could see, she had no idea that she sat over the baby queen’s hiding place. So he’d settled in and tried to figure out what the hell he needed to do. The egg was safe and not near to hatching.
Until now.
The time for the egg was fast approaching—there was no more time to waste. He had to have a solution. Maeve was growing in power and the small fortress she’d built had grown into a massive complex defended by powerful Tuathan lords created out of boys Maeve had manipulated into total loyalty. If he didn’t take action soon, the egg, the last female ice dragon in the known universe, would hatch with no way out.
He’d run out of time.
Letting his sleepy state expand into meditation Doyle left his body, traveling in soul form on the astral. He took the ancient star paths and called out to his brethren. They met at the appointed place, each one anchoring their energies to one of the seven stars that made up the constellation of the wheel.
“Doyle, why have you called us?” Carrig, a glowing amber light on his star, asked. “Is your queen hatching?”
“I can’t be pulled away like this. What do you want.” Even on the astral, Dray sounded surly.
Doyle knew he would get no help from the black dragon, but still he had to try. He took a deep metaphysical breath. He’d run out of options.
“I am in a quandary. My queen is close to hatching, but I still haven’t been able to move that bitch off of her frozen throne. And now she seems to be building even more walls and growing in power. I need you to come up here.”
“All of us? Are you insane?” The muttering of his brothers nearly pushed him out of the astral.
He struggled to hold his concentration. “No, I’m not insane. I thought I’d figure a way to detach Maeve from her palace, but she only gets stronger and her ice power is too similar to mine. I need one of you with a different perspective, a different strength to help me see a new path.”
“You ask too late, brother. We are all too close to hatching to risk leaving our queens,” Carrig said.
“But mine is in danger.” His star flared a bright white light.
“And would you have us leave our queens in danger, just to rescue yours?” Dray’s star flared like a black diamond in response. “You left her too long alone.”
The thought of the tiny queen hatching beneath the ice, trying to claw her way out, only to face a stronger and stronger Maeve, enraged Doyle. “I can fight my way into the palace, I can face the lords she has fed with power, but I am only one. While I face her, I cannot kill her or I risk the egg’s safety. I need one of you to help the queen when she hatches while I keep the queen from latching her tentacles into her. If that happens, she’ll suck her dry.”
“You know the plan. We only need one queen to continue our species. One queen can carry all types of dragons and hatch many eggs, that’s why we brought seven here to spread the risk.” Carrig’s voice took on the weight of stone. “Doyle, you knew some of them would die.”
“But not mi
ne!” His voice choked. He’d failed to save his world, he’d failed to save his own queen. Now he was failing again and this time, the victim was totally defenseless.
Carrig sounded truly regretful. “We wish you luck, Doyle Atavantador. May the stars be with you.”
One by one his brother’s stars began fading until finally he was the last one left, hanging in the cold reaches of space. Alone and with no solution to the imminent death of his baby queen.
Chapter Five
Siobhan woke up shivering, trying to shake off her dream of being chased by a frigid white cloud with piercing blue eyes. It seemed like she’d never be warm or safe again. She got out of bed and stared at the stranger in the mirror over the crowded dresser.
Her face was the same, but her eyes stood out as dark pools in a sharp landscape. Doyle was right, she was too skinny. If her mother were here she’d be fussing about her weight and feeding her dumplings and apple strudel. All her clothes were loose—she’d had to tighten her belt, and even her winter jacket seemed to swim on her.
If her mother were here. It had been a hundred years. Were they even still alive? Had the queen found them and taken her revenge? Siobhan watched liquid well up in her reflection’s eyes. She turned away, rubbing hard at the tears with her forearm.
The candle she’d left burning had gotten low, and Doyle was nowhere to be seen. She gathered her clothes from the chair where she’d left them. She felt a little lost and alone, here in this strange place. She had a fierce longing to go home, but there was the mystery of what had happened to Bosco. There was no way she was heading home without finding out what had happened to her baby brother. And then there was the fact that she’d sworn herself into the dragon’s service. She didn’t know if there was any home to go back to, or if there were, if the dragon would let her leave. Standing next to the fireplace she got dressed, trying to get rid of the chill she didn’t seem to be able to shake from her bones.
Caged: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 4) Page 4
