Liza (Dragon Isles Book 1)

by Shelley Munro

  But this magnetic pull he was experiencing had Leo beginning to wonder if the bedtime tales held a sliver of truth.

  Giving up the possibility of a true mate for whatever he could expect from Nan, The Strongminded, was ludicrous and shortsighted on his part.

  “We cannot give her up,” his dragon snapped, butting into Leo’s musing.

  “What if Nan decides the blow to her pride is too much, and she demands a blood apology?” Leo asked in mindspeak. He gave into temptation and brushed a lock of Gwenyth’s long hair away from her face. It was lustrous and smelled of the salty brine of the sea.

  “How is your head?” he asked.

  “Better,” she said, fingering the wound at her temple. “The ache has receded.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come and talk to me while I prepare food,” he said. “I’ve put out a shirt and a pair of trews for you to wear.

  “She needs to keep warm,” his dragon pointed out.

  Leo rifled through his wooden chest and pulled out a plaid, woven by women who lived on the farthest island north. Long ago, the women’s ancestors had lived in the Highlands of Scotland, and they continued with the traditional crafts of weaving. He strode to her side and draped the plaid over her shoulders.

  “Thank you. I’m lucky to have such a thoughtful husband. Where did we meet?” She slipped out of bed and tugged on the shirt to cover her nakedness.

  Leo stared at his feet, hating to lie more than necessary and guilt surging to the fore. He couldn’t help but study her, his fingers itching to test the softness of her skin. “What do I tell her?” he mindspoke to his dragon.

  “Tell her you think it’d be better for her memories to return on their own, that we shouldn’t fill in the gaps for her.”

  “My dragon and I think you should remember on your own rather than us filling your mind with information that will wedge together like an ill-fitting puzzle.”

  Her brow creased as she frowned at him, and Leo stilled, wondering if she might snap and snarl and show her teeth. Many a male dragon bore scars from temperamental females. He studied her, fascinated as her brow cleared, and a rueful smile grew. She edged closer, and every one of his muscles tensed; his inner dragon also alert to danger. Her fingers curled around his biceps, and she rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  His dragon gave a tiny moan, undone by her sweetness, while Leo froze, the spot where her lips caressed firing salvos of heat through every muscle in his body.

  Before he could kiss her in return, she stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed to tug on the trews. They were too big, but she folded them at the waistband and the legs.

  Next, she draped the plaid around her shoulders before gazing at him in expectation. “What are you making me to eat? What can I do to help?”

  Leo shook away the stupid while his dragon shifted his position on Leo’s torso and peered around Leo’s ribs to better see Gwenyth. “A beef-and-vegetable pie. While that is cooking, you can snack on fresh bread and cheese. And perhaps some apple juice, if that is to your liking.”

  Her brows rose, and her forehead creased again as if something worried her.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “You cook pies?”

  “My dragon and I enjoy eating. If we don’t cook, we don’t nourish our body and remain strong. The younger dragons snap at our heels, planning to steal our title.”

  “Your title?”

  “Everyone in the Dragon Isles has a title they have won through their behavior or their endeavors. I am Leonidas, Champion of the Skies.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “My title tells other dragons I am the fastest and strongest at aerial battle. I have other lesser titles, such as the one I was born with. Leo, The Youngest Son, or another I acquired is Leo, The Landowner. My older brothers and parents call me Leo, The Land Grubber.” Leo forced a grin despite the internal ache that accompanied this confession. “They have no conception of the personal satisfaction of a day’s labor or my contentment once I relax and enjoy the peace of my mountain home.”

  Her mouth opened and closed without sounds emerging while her gaze darted to the old battle scars on his chest and back. The one on his thigh. Finally, she said, “I don’t think I like your family.”

  “They have their moments.” Leo removed the cheese and butter from the chiller and the fresh bread he’d obtained at the human village. He’d found shopping there meant he didn’t encounter dragons connected with the castle. Best that way since less gossip regarding him made its way to his parents’ ears.

  He cut two bread slices with a sharp knife and placed them on a blue platter before nudging them toward Gwenyth. Leo shunted the butter and cheese closer to her. “Would you prefer strawberry jam?”

  His dragon grumbled a complaint because he had a sweet tooth and hated to share.

  “Cheese is fine,” she said, accepting the knife he handed her. “Tell me about this aerial fighting. It sounds…interesting.”

  “Her words do not match her expression,” his dragon said, bristling with disapproval. “She is like other females who say one thing and mean another.”

  “Did you receive your scars from these battles?”

  “Yes,” Leo said.

  “Hmm, I suppose it is no different from men or women pummeling each other on the rugby field or in the boxing ring. They also receive injuries.”

  Leo wasn’t sure who her words were meant for, nor did he understand their meaning.

  “Is this aerial fighting a sport?” she continued.

  “A sport?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Entertainment for other dragons to watch. Is there prize money or a special status that comes with winning the aerial battles? Apart from the title, I mean.”

  “I have my title, and I used the prize money to purchase my land,” Leo said.

  “That makes sense,” Gwenyth said and popped a piece of cheese into her mouth.

  Mesmerized, Leo watched her eyes close and her lips purse as she savored the tidbit.

  “This is excellent cheese.”

  “She confuses me. Intrigues me,” his dragon said.

  Leo agreed and set about gathering the ingredients to make his pastry. During his younger years, before his growth spurt, he’d spent as many hours hiding in the kitchen as he had learning to fabricate jewelry. The cook had set Leo to work, teaching him skills to become self-sufficient.

  “Tell me more about your battles,” Gwenyth said. “Is that topic allowable?”

  “It is.” Leo settled into the familiar routine of cooking. It relaxed him and his dragon after a tense day or a demand visit to his family. “We have smaller, less prestigious aerial battles on this island and the other islands also host battles. I trained and won several of the smaller ones to earn enough for the entrance fee of the more important yearly aerial combat battle. Growing up, I was the runt, and my older brothers bullied me. After one particularly nasty encounter, I sought an older, retired champion to train me.”

  Gwenyth cocked her head, interest sparkling in her brown eyes. “Did he help?”

  “Not at first. He recognized me as a son of the ruling family and assumed I was a spoiled brat. Outsiders don’t always understand the castle dynamics. When I persisted, he told me I had to start at the bottom. Later, he confessed he thought I’d give up in a week. He and his champions wagered on how long I’d last.”

  “They lost their money,” Gwenyth stated, delight shining on her face.

  “They did. All the physical grunt work I completed strengthened my muscles and Alfric demonstrated other exercises I could use to increase my fitness. I went on training flights with Alfric and his men. Instead of hiding in the castle to avoid my brothers, I visited Perfume Isle and Smoking Isle. On those islands, the dragons didn’t recognize me. While they knew of me, they never matched my face with my position. After working hard for over a year, I won my bouts instead of receiving the first bloo
d. My reputation grew until I earned enough to enter the biggest and most important battle.”

  “Did your parents not wonder where you were? Worry about why you weren’t at home?”

  “No,” Leo said. “I told them I was staying with my friends and wanted to attend school on Perfume Isle.” He shrugged. “They didn’t care since I was the youngest, and they had three other sons should something happen to me.”

  “That’s terrible. I would never treat my child so,” Gwenyth snapped.

  “How would you handle a child?” Leo asked.

  “I would love them, support them, and try to help them get ahead in the world. I would teach them right from wrong and show them by deed they have worth. Your parents—they sound selfish and irresponsible. I’m not excited to meet them. Or have we already met?”

  “No, you haven’t met my family.” He flashed a grin. “Your lecture is not something I’d tell them to their faces,” Leo said, even as he sought the meaning and veracity of her words. Did she speak the truth, or was she merely saying that to win him around?

  “Your parents might have ignored you and treated you as disposable, but they’ve taught you there is a better way to raise and nurture children. You will raise your offspring differently and not in the way they behaved with you.”

  Warmth squeezed his heart as he floured the marble counter and tipped out his pastry. She sounded angry on his behalf. Indignant because his parents had been hands-off in their child-rearing. He and his brothers had possessed material advantages and had plenty of food to fill their bellies. Despite the bullying, he’d had many advantages others of his age lacked.

  “How long have we been married?” she asked. “I can ask that question?”

  His parents would ask. “Almost one week,” he said.

  “Why don’t I have any clothes or possessions with me?”

  “How are you going to answer that one?” his dragon queried with an air of smartarse.

  “You traveled to Hissing Isle by boat. There was a storm.” Leo shrugged. “The North Sea is unpredictable and punishing. You almost drowned. I will wash the clothes you were wearing later.”

  “Not bad,” his dragon purred. “You should publish a fairy tale.”

  “Is that how I hurt my head and lost my memories?”

  “I couldn’t get to you fast enough.” The truth as far as it went. He’d been so shocked to see her, and he hadn’t acted with his usual speed and clear thinking.

  “But you did get to me,” she said. “Was anyone else hurt?”

  “No, everyone is safe.”

  “I’m glad,” she said with a yawn. “Maybe I’ll go to sleep now. I don’t think I can wait for the pie.”

  “I’ll save you some,” Leo promised and wiped his hands.

  “Is there a toothbrush I can use?”

  “I have tooth cleanser. Swish it around your mouth. No brushing required.”

  She nodded, wincing as she climbed off the stool.

  “Take a quick shower to warm your muscles,” he said. “I’d recommend a soak, but I worry you might fall asleep in the middle of your bathing.”

  “My skin is itchy. I presume it is from my dip in the sea. A shower would be most welcome.” She limped to the kitchen doorway and hesitated. “I don’t remember which way to go.”

  Leo placed the pie inside the cooking square and set a timer to remind himself to check on it later. He wiped his hands and strode over to her. “This way, my lodestone.”

  Leo guided her past his bedroom and through a connected tunnel that led to a hot pool. He bypassed the steaming pool and directed her to the water drop he’d designed. It was much like a shower, but it ran continually and emptied into an underground stream that emerged lower down in a valley.

  “I need to check my cattle. Will you be all right on your own? I won’t take long.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his forearm.

  “Once the pie is cooked, and you’re tucked in bed for your nap, I’ll leave.”

  She smiled. “This is an amazing area. I can’t believe I have no memory of this.” She set the wrap on a wall peg and started unbuttoning her shirt.

  Leo blinked as she let his shirt drop over one shoulder and drift to the insulation mat. His dragon purred so hard, Leo’s skin vibrated, yet he couldn’t remove his gaze from her pale skin and rounded buttocks. “You’re mesmerizing,” he murmured.

  She turned to him with an impish grin, giving him a glimpse of her breasts. “You think so even with all these scrapes and bruises?”

  “I do,” Leo said firmly, entranced by her feminine curves. While she wasn’t as robust as most female dragons, her humor and smiles more than made up for her differences. Some might call them deficiencies. Her inability to fly. Her lack of fire. “I’ll get you a towel and a robe.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “We’re keeping her,” his dragon stated as Leo made good on his promise. He returned to his bedroom for the robe and pulled a towel from a storage cupboard.

  “What if she belongs to another?” Or worse, his parents drove her away. As rulers of the clan on Hissing Isle, they had the power to make his life uncomfortable if he continued with this lie.

  “We are Champion of the Skies,” his dragon retorted. “We’re smart and battle hard. If we have to, we will fight for the right to keep her.”

  “You make it sound easy. The tear in the magical fabric between us and the mainland worries me. We pay our annual tithe to the druids. There should be no issue. No interruption to our protective barrier. As soon as Gwenyth recovers, we’ll travel to visit my friends on Perfume Isle. We must learn if they have seen or experienced this phenomenon.”

  “After facing the ogre-parents, a visit to our friends would be most welcome.”

  “I agree.” Leo returned and discovered Gwenyth sitting on one of the stone seats he’d carved into the rock wall. Her face, when she glanced in his direction, had lost every hint of color. He scooped her off the rough seat and held her upright while he wrapped the towel around her wet torso.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “Why are you apologizing?” he demanded, his voice rough with concern.

  “I’m spoiling our honeymoon with my weakness. This should be a time of fun and laughter and copious amounts of fulfilling sex.”

  His brows rose, and he glanced down at her pale face. “Copious?”

  She huffed. “You’re gorgeous. Every time I glance your way, I want to lick you all over and trace each of your bulging muscles with my mouth.”

  Leo stared, pleasure at her heartfelt words reverberating through him.

  “Keep. Keep. Keeping her,” his dragon chanted. “Copious sex would be good for us. I’d like it. You’d enjoy it. We’re keeping her.”

  “Yes,” Leo replied. Nan, The Strongminded, was not the woman he wanted at his side or in his bed.

  In his room, he set Gwenyth on her feet.

  “You’re exhausted,” he said. “Let me dry you properly.” Leo patted away droplets of water, working fast because she required her rest. Even so, he took delight in touching her smooth skin and watching the way her body reacted. Her breathing quickened while her pink nipples pulled to tight buds. She watched him through glittering eyes, her expression telling him she enjoyed his attentions. When he kneeled to dry her legs, he scented her sweet arousal, and it pulled an answering response from him. A tightening of his body. He ignored this and wiped her feet. She’d painted her toenails a delicate pink. His dragon purred again while Leo’s lips twitched.

  Leo set aside the damp towel and tugged one of his clean shirts over her head. An instant later, he guided her to his bed.

  “The linens smell of you,” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering closed. “It’s like being in your embrace.”

  Leo smiled so wide, his mouth hurt, but she’d already succumbed to slumber.

  “Aw, she’s so cute,” his dragon said. “You like her as much as I do.”

&nbs
p; “Yes.” Leo scooped up the damp towel and left his bedroom. He removed the pie from the oven and left it on the counter to cool. “We’ll check the stock and investigate the death stench. I should’ve checked earlier—”

  “Your parents angered us. We cannot bring the dead to life, so waiting for a time won’t hurt.”

  “The scent has made me uneasy. I feel we must investigate.”

  “Will Gwenyth be safe here alone?”

  “As long as we do not delay.” Leo removed his clothes and tossed them over the back of his favored chair. He padded outside and halted in the middle of his large terrace before he called his dragon to the surface.

  As always, his transformation was quick, his dragon exploding from him in a rush of exhilaration. An instant later, his sturdy hind legs arrowed him upward while his giant emerald-green wings aided his lift into the air. Rapid strokes took him farther up the mountain to his high pastures. The distinct, coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils, and Leo glided on the airstreams instead of flapping his wings. His intent gaze scanned the landscape.

  A pack of wolves roamed the area where he grazed his cattle. They’d never taken one of his animals before, but there was always a first time.

  His mind raced ahead while he considered possibilities. He’d thought he had an unspoken truce with the wolves, and although they couldn’t communicate, he’d tried to make them understand his cattle were out of bounds. During the hard winters, he often left food for the wolves so they didn’t kill his more valuable animals.

  Once Leo reached the pasture, he landed and shifted. He scanned his cattle, doing a rapid count. They were here—all thirty-seven of them—and they milled together at the far end of the pasture near one of the mountain streams that ran through his property. At least the offensive stench wasn’t from one of his animals.

  Perplexed, Leo followed the death trail. It led through the top of his meadow and into the pines.

  Foreboding stalked him as the odor grew more substantial. Now that he was closer, the wild, gamey aroma of wolf combined with the blood along with another scent he didn’t recognize. Uncertain of what he might find, he strode nearer.