Maiara sighed and burrowed deeper into the nest of his jacket. “Thank the Great Spirit you came. I would surely be dead if not for you.”
He scoffed. “I don’t believe that. The girl who speaks to hawks and hides in trees would have found a way to survive.”
“Many of my kind, Midews, have animals that help them bridge between this life and the next. Nikan is mine. She came to me when I reached the level in my training where I understood the thin line that separates us from our ancestors. Nikan and I are bound to each other.”
Alexander looked up then at the silhouette of the bird on the roof of the tent. He sometimes forgot Nikan was there anymore, but she rarely moved far from Maiara. “Should we invite her inside?”
“No. She is happy where she is. She prefers not to be contained.”
“I see.”
“You are a good dragon for asking,” she said. “And for coming with me to protect my people.”
“Maybe. Maybe I have my reasons for being good and they are not so innocent as you might think.” Immediately he regretted saying it. Why had he? It was a deep secret he should have kept to himself.
“No? What reason could you have to help someone like me? Other white men call us savages.”
He tapped her nose. “The white men who say those things are filthy dolts. The only things savage about you are your intelligence and your beauty.” Her ebony eyes locked with his, and the smile faded from his face. “Perhaps my reasons for helping you have more to do with that than pure benevolence.”
The way Maiara looked at him then was raw and transparent. In that moment, he wanted her as males of all peoples wanted their females, and she must have seen it in him, because she brought her hand to his face. He made no attempt to hide the hunger in his eyes. The way she tipped her head and parted her lips only encouraged him.
“You are a man of honor,” she said. “Being here with you, warmed in your arms, is as natural as breathing. It reminds me of summer.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He touched his forehead to hers.
“I had a dream. Before I met you.” Her voice wavered, and he got the sense she hadn’t expected to share this with him. He pulled back so he could see her better.
“What happened in this dream?”
“After my father was murdered by the wendigo and I escaped into a tree, I waited two days to come out. I had to make sure the creature was gone. I only emerged when it was clear if I did not I would starve to death. After that, I hunted and existed and survived until I knew the weather would soon be too cold to support this way of life.
“One night, while I slept in my tree, I had a dream. I saw my mother’s face, and then a thunderbird picked me up in its talons and dropped me in the land of the white man. There I found a box, and inside was a stone like the one in your ring. I took the stone between my hands, and its magic felt hot.
“It glowed as bright as the sun. I recognized this as a great gift because a cold and dark force had captured my people. I wanted to give the stone to the keepers of the fire to protect them from the evil they were enduring. But when I arrived in their village, the stone cracked like an egg and inside was a bird I’d never seen before. The bird became fire and then dust and then a bird again, and no warrior could best its magic.”
“A phoenix?”
“I do not know that word.”
He shook his head like the name didn’t matter. “What do you think this dream means?”
“I think it means I was meant to meet you, Alexander, and meant to take you back to the Potawatomi. I think the fire is you. You will protect my people against the Iroquois and the wendigo.”
“Oh.” His gaze drifted away from her.
“In my hands,” she murmured.
“Pardon?”
“You were meant to go there, in my hands. In my arms. Your heat, in my blood.”
His breath caught. She slid her hands around his neck and pulled herself closer to him.
Kissing her was as natural as taking his next breath. He held her loosely, allowing her to come to him on her own terms, at her own speed. When their mouths connected, the crackle of magic coursed through his blood, from his mouth to his chest and then low in his abdomen. He felt himself harden beneath her and wondered if she could tell through the layers she wore.
Oh, how he wanted to be the man of her dream. His inner dragon coiled and stretched inside him, made happy by the feel of her arms. He cradled her head and tickled her upper lip with his beard. The closeness tore down any barriers left between them. He had nothing to compare this to. He’d never felt this way about a female, even in Paragon where his social calendar had allowed for a number of physical relationships. This was different. This was intimacy.
Her lips parted and he tasted her. By the Mountain, this was a fire he had never known before. She returned the taste, licking inside his mouth and adjusting herself in his lap. She paused to shed her outer layer of fur and positioned a knee on either side of his hips. Indeed, the tent had grown hot, even with the snow and wind blowing beyond its walls.
“You taste of smoke, fresh cut wood, and pawpaw fruit,” she said.
“What’s a pawpaw fruit?”
She didn’t answer but kissed him again. Chest pressed to chest, he swallowed her moan and stroked along the place where her braid cascaded down the muscles of her back. He raised his hips, grinding against her. There was no hiding his desire for her now, and she didn’t move away. He could only imagine what it would feel like to be inside her. He longed to have nothing between them, to join with her, maybe even bond with her. Yes, his dragon liked that idea.
Mine.
She dug her fingers into his hair and kissed him harder, her body rising and falling above him. He cursed the layers of clothing between them.
“Stew is ready,” Tobias yelled from the fire.
“Best eat it quickly,” Gabriel said. “The fire won’t last in this.”
By this he meant the blizzard. The snow cascaded in heavy blots beyond the canvas, collecting in a thick shadow around the base of the tent. He would have loved to ignore his brothers and continue kindling the fire he and Maiara had started inside the tent, but she had grown thin, the traveling harder on her than the rest of them. He steadied her, his thumbs braced on the bones of her hips.
“You need to eat,” he said. Her stomach growled its agreement.
Reluctantly she pulled away. He reached for her fur and drew it around her shoulders and then spread his wings to free her from his embrace.
“Two more days until we reach your people. I will see you safely into their arms.”
She narrowed her eyes and smiled in understanding, their earlier intimacy extending to this moment. This was for the best. Alexander wanted more than a tent in the snow. If he had her, if she gave herself to him, he wanted forever. He wanted a home.
“Two more days,” she repeated.
He moved toward the flap. “It’s cold. Stay. I will bring you food.”
“It is cold. Won’t you keep me warm when you return?”
The smile he gave her was laced with wanting. “It would be my honor.”
Chapter Twenty
Two days later, with snow peppering his horse’s mane, Alexander followed Maiara through a passageway of tall sandstone ridges toward the Potawatomi village. The Potawatomi lived most of the year in the lake basins on the edge of the Great Plains, but in the winter, Maiara had explained, families journeyed into the hills for protection from the harsh winds. At the same time, they abandoned their dome-shaped wigwams for homes called teepees or nsoegen in their language, conical houses covered in hides and sheaves of reeds, abodes better suited for the cold.
It was these homes he noticed first as they approached, followed by the strange and foreign symbols carved and painted in the sides of the stone. The teepees were erected in a circle around a central gathering place, curls of smoke rising from the pointed tops. His heart leaped knowing Maiara was now home. Although he’d kept h
er warm these past nights sleeping by her side, he’d shared nothing more than a few passionate kisses with her.
He wanted more. His dragon wanted more. The thought of making her his mate caused his blood to throb in his veins. She was wild, bold, and free, braver than most of his kind. He longed to worship her as she deserved to be worshipped.
But he would not take advantage of her need for his warmth or have their first time be in the mud in some tent or cave. He wanted her, but if she accepted him, he wanted their mating to be forever. Which meant that he needed these people to accept her as their own. He needed her to have a home so that she could invite him into it, not choose him out of some feeling of necessity.
His reverie was broken by a rush of native men armed with knives, axes, and spears who surrounded them, yelling in Maiara’s native language. While Alexander waited for the magic of his ring to analyze the language and give him a translation, Maiara shouted back at them through the falling snow.
“I am Maiara, healer and last living member Notawkah’s tribe. My people were slaughtered by the wendigo. I ask for the protection of your fire for me and my friends.”
Alexander stared down at the angry natives circling them. The men were not lowering their weapons. Instead, three of them broke from the others and grabbed their horse’s reins, leading them into the village.
“I’m not comfortable with this,” Tobias grumbled. “Didn’t that barmaid from the Owl’s Roost say these savages have ripped white men’s hearts out? We should have changed our appearance before coming here.”
Alexander growled. “They’re protecting their village. Pay them your respect.”
“For now,” Gabriel said. “Maiara needs shelter. For her sake, let us give these people the benefit of the doubt.”
“It’s the least we can do,” Alexander said, holding Gabriel’s gaze.
They were led into the center of the village to the largest teepee, big enough for a group of men to gather inside. The warriors stopped and gestured for them to dismount.
Maiara slid off her horse. “This is a sacred place where their chief rules on important matters with his council. They have invited us inside. Please come in but do not speak.”
“Don’t speak?” Gabriel scowled and glanced toward Tobias. “I think they would prefer words to what I might do if they don’t get those spears out of our faces.”
Flashing his crooked half smile, Tobias added, “Are you sure you are even capable of it, Gabriel? You haven’t kept your mouth shut in some two hundred years.”
Alexander growled under his breath. “Do not ruin this for her.”
“You mean for us, don’t you, brother?” Gabriel narrowed his eyes.
Ignoring him, Alexander dismounted and stood beside Maiara with his hands folded. Praise the Mountain, his brothers followed suit, although Gabriel’s countenance suggested he wasn’t happy ceding the floor to anyone, including Maiara.
They entered the teepee together under a flap of animal skin. What animal, Alexander was unsure. He did not recognize the pelt as anything he’d become accustomed to during their travels in Europe. Inside, the round room was dark, warm, and smoky, with a fire crackling at the center of a circle of straight-backed men. Homey. Not unlike the mountain.
Among the humans, one man looked of particular import, adorned in silver rings, beads, and porcupine quills that nearly covered his deerskin leggings and tunic. This must be the chief.
The man raised his chin and gestured to the others in the room, murmuring something to Maiara Alexander didn’t quite catch. She, however, must have understood what he was asking, because she took a deep breath and stepped toward the fire. Reaching into the folds of her cloak, she removed the otter skin pouch where she kept the white shell she’d used for healing. “I am the last of the Midewiwin society.”
There was an audible intake of breath as they gazed upon the pouch she held above her head. Their eyes widened as she drew the shell from inside. Whispers twisted between the flames. “The Midewiwin society was attacked by the Iroquois at our curing ritual. The Iroquois are angry that the French men trade with us for furs. They are not satisfied with the animals on their own lands. They want the lands of the Anish’ina’beg too. They want all the lands for their own.”
A loud murmur rose among the elders, and they nodded as if these facts were well known.
“The Midewiwin have protected the Anish’ina’beg since Great Rabbit of the Good Spirit sent Otter to bring us magic. The Iroquois knew they could not defeat us without eliminating the Midewiwin. No mortal man could defeat our magic.”
An uprising of agreement welled around the fire. “One of their warriors invited a demon into his heart and now walks the earth as a wendigo. With this added power, the warrior was able to defeat the magic of the society. I alone survived.”
The men cried out at this news and murmurs filled the teepee.
The chief silenced them with one raised hand. “When our Midew, Keme, did not return from the ritual, I dreamed he had crossed to the Land of Souls, but if what you say is true, how is it that you survived?” the chief asked. “And why are you coming to us only now? The curing was before the leaf fall.”
Alexander watched Maiara’s face flush. Whatever she was about to say was a source of shame to her. His heart felt heavy and he almost took a step forward to comfort her, but her eyes found his before he moved and she gave her head one firm shake.
“My father was a white man, a trapper,” she said to the men. “He witnessed the wendigo set upon my village. He was there with my mother. He begged my mother to flee with him, but she insisted on protecting her tribe. The last thing she told him before the wendigo took her life was that I was on my way to the curing on foot as is our custom. My father rode hard to intercept me. He told me what had happened, delaying my arrival at the ritual. We tried to warn the others, but we were too late. The sacred place of the curing was already soaked in blood.”
The men roared and beat their chests, tears forming in their eyes. “I did not see Keme, but the wendigo left nothing alive in its wake. The creature spotted me, and my father tried to hide me. But it hunted me. After some time, it found us and my father gave his life to save mine. Only by using the great magic was I able to escape and hide among the white men until these three guardians agreed to protect my journey here.”
Alexander did not miss the dagger-filled stare Gabriel and Tobias gave him when Maiara gestured toward them. Gabriel especially looked like he’d eaten something bad. But then this was the first time his brothers were hearing about Maiara’s magic and the wendigo. He ignored his brothers and turned his attention back on Maiara.
“My village, my family, my tribe, my society, are dead. I ask that you take me in as your own and give refuge to my guardians until the snow melts and the crocus blooms.”
The chief stared into the fire, looking particularly perplexed. “The wendigo will come for you.”
“Yes.”
“If you stay, the village will be at risk.”
“Yes.”
“If the society of Midewiwin could not stop the wendigo, how will my people? We are few and the winter makes us vulnerable. Wendigo hunts day and night and is not susceptible to the cold as we are. If we allow you to stay, the blood of our clan will be on my hands.” The chief pointed one gnarled finger at her as he spoke.
There were sounds of agreement from the circle of elders.
Maiara’s head sagged on her shoulders, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Please.”
“You will stay the night. We will provide you with provisions and fresh horses. Then you must go.”
Alexander’s blood heated in his veins. This was unacceptable. They must take her in. Maiara didn’t just need protection; she needed a home.
“I will protect you from the wendigo,” Alexander announced in their language. The men quieted. No sound but the crackle of the fire accompanied the stares that burned into him. Every mouth sagged with disapproval.
“Alexander, no,” Maiara whispered. But there was also a look of respect in her eyes. She did not know he could speak her language.
Removing his coat and shoes, Alexander gave Maiara one last reassuring nod and tapped his chest. “I will protect this tribe.” Then he stepped into the fire.
The men cried out, rising and turning to each other in confusion as Alexander’s clothing caught fire. His breeches blackened, then burned away, as did his shirt. At one point, the flames were so high they swallowed his head. He spread his hands and turned, showing them that although the last wisps of his clothing were consumed, his skin did not burn. Then he spread his wings.
Now the entire council fell into total chaos.
“Alexander!” Gabriel howled. But he ignored his brother’s angst.
“I will protect your tribe,” he said, louder now, allowing his dragon to infuse his voice with rumbling grit. “Only as long as you allow her to stay.” He pointed at Maiara, whose dark eyes had turned into pits of wonder.
The men spoke among themselves for only a moment before the chief said in a trembling voice, “You are welcome here, spirit. A place will be prepared for you. Maiara, I take you as my daughter.”
Aware of his nakedness, Alexander stepped out of the fire, picked up his coat and boots, and left the teepee, his skin still steaming.
Chapter Twenty-One
Alexander paced, his dragon ready for a fight. After he’d left the tribal council, he’d dressed and waited near the horses. Within moments, he was shown to a dwelling where he, Gabriel, and Tobias were invited to stay. Maiara was offered a smaller teepee that used to be the tribe’s Midew Keme’s, before he was killed by the wendigo. As he understood it, it doubled as a sacred healing room.
At first Gabriel and Tobias remained silent as they unloaded the horses and started a fire, more for light than for any need for heat. But once they were alone, Gabriel could no longer hold his tongue.
“Do you intend to reveal our true identity to every human in this realm?” Gabriel fumed.
The Dragon of Sedona (The Treasure of Paragon Book 4) Page 13
