by Mandy Rosko
Anata’s eyes narrowed. “How did my son come to be in such a bad way?”
“He was trying to fly,” Dawn said. All eyes turned to her now that she’d spoken for the first time. “His wings broke in mid-flight, and he fell. There’s nothing sinister about it.”
Anata’s head whipped in her direction. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Show me yer face.”
Uh oh. “I can’t.”
Anata snapped his fingers again. Three dragon men leapt from their places on the rocks and landed with the same rough grace as the two before them. They started toward her.
Dawn tensed. Aaron drew his weapon and ran to stand between her and the dragons, who had their own blades out and ready before he’d even started running. “Do not touch her. She is a vampire. She cannot remove the mask until the sun sets.”
The three dragons stopped, looked between each other, then at their king. Anata waved them off.
“Very well, for the moment her face remains concealed. But we shall speak in a darker place. And until Devon confirms what ye’ve told me, ye shall all be my guests.”
Chapter Ten
“So much for peace,” Kehn grouched for the tenth time in two days. No one bothered to answer him, and he paced around the cave Anata had given them like a caged animal eager to strike.
Though, to be fair, it was more of a bedchamber, similar to what the elves had presented Dawn with on her arrival, than an actual cave. It even branched off into other rooms with high arched windows for the three of them to share. The night was clear, no fog, and if Dawn looked outside, she could see the whole of the island gleaming under the light of the moon.
Bell was entirely transfixed with the view. She had told Dawn that she had never seen the island from this perspective, and she passed most of her time by admiring the dark ocean and trees, watching the change in scenic colors from dawn to dusk. The palace of the elves could even be seen below, the lights and torches giving it a fairy-like quality of its own.
The stone walls of their chambers were hardly gleaming like in the elven palace. They had been carved from the mountain itself, which was impressive all on its own. While they were cold to the touch, they were dry and clean. A Persian rug kept their feet cushioned and warm and modern furniture—black leather couches, a flat screen LG TV mounted on the wall, and a king-size bed with a dark mahogany frame and navy sheets, which currently held Aaron’s father—graced the room
Aaron sat with him on the edge of the bed, looking entirely out of place on something so modern, but his concern was real, despite the good health Aelmon seemed to be in, apart from his leg. He insisted it was not broken, but it had been heavily bandaged and propped onto the bunched sheets and pillows, which suggested otherwise. Aelmon’s ribs were bruised and bandaged as well from his battle with the Titanboa. The king seemed dead set on denying any claim that he could have been seriously injured in battle.
He was actually smiling as he recounted his story to Aaron. “The dragons have not mistreated me, and I have been much enjoying this television of theirs. I think I would enjoy having one placed in my bedchambers on our return home.”
Aaron barely gave the TV a glance.
On first entering their rooms, the TVs had all been off. But as they’d explored the other connecting rooms and found Aelmon napping in bed to the Discovery Channel, Dawn had been surprised by their fascination with the thing.
Aaron hadn’t noticed it at first. He’d seen his father and rushed to his side. It had been Bell and Kehn who were immediately taken in. The two had stood around and stared at it in wonder, like children who watched with their noses far too close to the screen. Bell had reached her hand out to tentatively touch the images of bees pollinating flowers. She’d pulled her hand back sharply, rubbing her fingers together, as though confused to feel flat plastic instead of soft flower petals.
Dawn had found the black remote next to Aelmon’s hand and turned it off before Aaron could get sucked in by it as well. Bell and Kehn had blinked like they’d come out of a trance and had promptly put duty above curiosity.
But Aelmon had woken as soon as Aaron took his hand. Minutes after the pleasantries were exchanged, the TV was back on to breezing flowers and the flight patterns of geese.
Dawn had to admit she was impressed with the way the three other elves managed to ignore it since it barely got turned off the whole time the king was awake.
He’d had access to the thing for only a few days, and he already knew his way around the remote like a pro. Pretty good for a man that had never so much as seen a clock radio before.
“Do ye not think a television would make an excellent addition to the palace?” Aelmon said. His cheery mood was a good sign that he’d been properly cared for and paid the respects due to a king. It also meant he was unaware of any plans to do him, and his party, any harm should Devon not wake up.
“I am certain something of that nature can be arranged,” Aaron said, his voice holding the kind of uncertainty that betrayed he had no idea how to even get his hands on a TV.
It made Dawn smile a little. She had to admit, she liked the elf king. Only a little, though. She was reserving judgment. “Your Majesty, about my brother—”
“I do hope the young dragon prince recovers,” he said, sidestepping her. “’Tis time to renegotiate our peace. Release old hatreds for good. I owe the dragon clan my life”—His eyes moved to Dawn and then Aaron—“to ye as well. Arranging yer marriage with the vampires was the best decision of my reign. We shall finally have peace between all three of our species.”
He turned to Dawn, and his smile for her was a weak one. “However, I cannot ignore the fact that, had I not had this little adventure, my life could very well have ended on your arrival.”
Dawn licked her lips, shooting a glare at Kehn. That idiot was the one to blab about Blake and Nox’s mission. He hadn’t bothered to go easy on the details either. Not that there was anything to sugarcoat about attempted murder, but it hadn’t endeared Dawn’s family to the man who had the power to end Blake’s life.
It hadn’t endeared Kehn to Dawn much either, and she was feeling a lot like killing him.
“Your Majesty, I know my brother’s actions are not—”
A dragon chose that moment to walk into their chambers, completely unannounced. It was a woman, plainly dressed, wings molded to her back, thin as paper against a grey dress suit. She ignored everyone but Aelmon as she bowed low at her waist, red braid falling down her shoulder. “Announcing His Majesty, Lord Anata of the Blue Mountain.”
Aelmon waved her off, but she was stepping aside even before he made the gesture. Anata walked into their chambers with two dragon men nearly as large as himself behind him. They made an odd sight, dressed in Armani with swords at their backs, but they also looked ready for business.
Aaron stood abruptly, and Kehn and Bell tensed upon his arrival.
“Good eve, Yer Majesty.” Aelmon held out his hand as though he were greeting a friend rather than his jailer.
Anata’s cheek quirked in a reluctant smile. He stepped toward the bed and took Aelmon’s hand. “My son awoke.”
“Then his recovery is coming along well? How are his wings?”
Anata growled, releasing Aelmon’s hand and stepping back. “They had to be removed. He shall never fly.”
Sympathy swelled in Dawn’s chest. The poor kid. She had no idea how that was for a dragon, but from Anata’s expression, it was not good.
Aelmon’s face fell. “I am so very sorry for the loss.”
Anata waved him off, though there was still bitterness in his eyes. “Do not concern yerself, friend. I prefer my son alive with no wings to fly with than dead in the forest.”
Friend? Dawn looked to Aaron. He managed to keep stoic. Anata must have treated the elf king better than they all thought for them to be speaking to each other like this.
“If ye feel yer up to travelin’, I can send ye on yer way,” Anata said. “Ye will, of course, be escorted to e
nsure yer safety.”
Dawn itched to jump up and run out of the dragon’s lair in that instant, escort or no. She needed to get back to Blake, preferably before Aelmon returned and gave the order to throw him and Nox into the morning sun.
She was no longer holding any hope that the king would overlook an attempted murder, even for his new daughter-in-law.
Aaron must have sensed her unease because he took her hand into his and squeezed. She exhaled sharply. Dawn hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. His gloved palm felt good, solid, and secure. She could have kissed him.
Aelmon smiled. “I am feeling well enough to make the journey, friend. Though I will be saddened to leave yer fine house.”
Anata grinned at the compliment. “Perhaps we can arrange a future visit. Until then, I shall have you flown back to your palace, before sunrise,” he added, glancing at Dawn. While in his mountain palace, the king had come to an understanding of Dawn’s “condition,” as he called it, and she hadn’t had to wear all her leathers around, and she never would again if she had her way. “For the princess’s sake.”
Anata bowed his head to Aelmon, who returned the gesture as best he could while lying in bed, and promptly left their rooms.
Dawn waited a beat before following him out. She felt Aaron’s eyes on her, but she ignored him. He wouldn’t leave his father, and neither Bell nor Kehn would dare leave their king, so she was safely able to leave them. On her way out of the chambers that led deeper into the mountain, the guards who had been previously posted at the doors were no longer there.
No need now that they were no longer under suspicion.
All the better. She couldn’t leave yet, not without speaking to the king of dragons. Aaron might’ve given up on a cure, but what kind of wife would she be if she didn’t try her hand?
“Your Majesty? King Anata?” she called, jogging toward his retreating back. Twin swords sliced the air, crossing in front of her, blocking her path. The two dragon soldiers on the other ends of those blades glared down at her.
“Leave her be,” Anata said, stepping forward and putting his hand on one of the men’s giant shoulder.
The guard lowered his arm without question, as did his heavily muscled comrade. Loyalty was one thing, but these guys were trained military-style.
“What was it ye wished to speak with me about?” Anata asked, pulling her out of her impressed thoughts.
She straightened her back and got right to the point. “Aaron’s curse…”
Understanding dawned on Anata’s face, and the little dragon tattoo around his eye lifted with the shift in the king’s facial features. He rubbed his bearded jaw and shook his head. “There’s naught that can be done for him. He was cursed decades ago, and when his father demanded a cure, a new war nearly broke out between our people. I even gave Aelmon permission to search around the caves where your prince claims to have been cursed.”
“It’s not a claim. He is cursed. I’ve seen him turn the things that he touches to gold. Even his clothes.”
Anata nodded. “I believe ye, but the fact remains that not all dragons on this island are magical, nor part of my clan.”
Dawn blinked. “They’re not?”
He shook his head. “I’ll tell ye the same thing I told Aelmon and his sons those years ago. Not all dragons are like us. Some prefer to be alone instead of in clans, like ours, and some travel. They can fly over great distances, stopping only when the need to rest arises, which it rarely does for those kinds of dragons.
“I believe the dragon to curse him was a traveler. ’Tis the only reason why I’ve never heard of one matching the description the prince gave.”
“Does that really matter? You’re the king of dragons. Why can’t you cure him?”
He shook his head. “’Tis not that I won’t. I cannot. A dragon’s curse either has to be lifted by the caster or the victim. ’Tis sacred elemental magic. Even so, even I have not the power to perform such a curse, and I do not have the ability to lift it.”
Almost against her will, Dawn felt herself falling out of respectful mode. Her arms crossed before she was even aware they were moving.
Anata sighed. “I have told ye naught that the elves have not already heard. The difference, I see, is that their understanding of these things far outweighs yer own.”
“But if you would just try—”
“I have tried, but simply because the magic cannot be lifted, does not mean ye cannot find ways around it.”
Dawn did her damndest to hide her mortification behind a stoic face. Did he somehow know what she’d done with Aaron in the trees?
“And now, highness, I will bid thee a good night and safe travels. I need to be with my son.”
Dawn’s fists clenched. She was pissed that he wasn’t even going to give Aaron another glance, not even another try, after he’d saved the life of his son, but she also couldn’t fault the king for wanting to get back to the kid’s bedside either. “Fine. Thank you for your time, Your Majesty.”
Anata hesitated. Dawn felt his eyes on her even though she was no longer looking at him. But eventually he turned and started moving away again, his guards following him like an extra pair of shadows.
A small hand touched her shoulder, and Dawn turned. The same woman who had announced Anata’s arrival to their chambers stood there, a neutral smile on her lips. She’d heard the whole thing.
“Yer Highness, if ye will please follow me, preparations for yer journey home have been made.”
Which brought her back to the other important matter of her brother. She still needed to get Aaron’s father to let those two idiots off the hook.
The professionally dressed dragon woman led her back to the cluster of rooms given to the elf king and his subjects. In Aelmon’s room, a green-cushioned chair had been brought in for his use. Attached to its bottom for carrying were wooden poles. After Kehn and Bell helped their king into the chair, two dragon men lifted it between them and carried him out. The king was having the time of his life still, despite a broken leg and leaving behind the TV he’d grown so fond of.
Aaron’s lips lifted in a smile at the sight of her, but his eyes remained sad.
Dawn’s breath caught. He knew what she’d gone to do, and he also knew that she’d failed him. All that without asking. No expectations, no anger, no nothing. It made her all the angrier with Anata for not so much as trying.
“Ye should not have bothered, Dawn,” he said.
“If we ever want to touch each other, I’ll keep trying,” she said.
His lack of an answer wasn’t very encouraging.
Aaron was about to follow his father out when Dawn caught his arm. “Wait.”
He didn’t pull away like he normally would have, but he did look back at the door where his father had disappeared before retuning his attention to her. “What is it?”
Dawn threaded her fingers through his, pulling him away from his father’s bedchamber and into the one given to her for their stay. When Anata recalled just who Aaron was, he’d arranged for him and his wife to have separate sleeping quarters, and Dawn didn’t think Aaron would want to do what she had in mind in his father’s sick bed.
Aaron picked up on her intentions quickly. “Is there time?”
“There’s always time.” She pushed him, and he went down on the feather bed without any fight. His lips did lift a little when she climbed on top of him.
“What has come over ye?”
The question made her pause while she worked on the strings of his breeches. She couldn’t say for sure what it was. Maybe the fact that they hadn’t fooled around since their night in the tree or the disappointment of Anata’s refusal, which was an odd one to feel because she wasn’t the one who was cursed. Aaron had lived with it, and the disappointment of being told no, for years.
“I want to make you feel good,” Dawn said, opening the flap of his breeches and finding the second golden layer beneath. She put her hand on it, listening to the hitch in his
breath and feeling the jump of his cock.
Aaron reached up, gloved hands ready to touch her. She let him. The dragons had given her a red silk blouse to wear, and even with his rough gloves, the smooth pinching and sliding felt amazing, soothing. Then she got an idea, pushed his hands away, and ripped the blouse from her shoulders, two of the top buttons popping clean off.
Aaron brought his face forward, ready to bite and lick. Dawn’s nipples pebbled in response, but she leaned away. “I’ve got something better in mind.”
“What’s better than that?”
She didn’t understand at first. But then she thought, oh, right. It was the only physical touch he was capable of.
She slid down his legs, opened the golden breeches, allowing his cock to spring free. She was careful not to touch him, her eyes going to his. They were wide, staring at her hands for any sign of getting too close, but he didn’t protest her next act.
She wrapped the silk blouse around his prick, layering only once, and watched as the material flashed, gold flooding over the red color, consuming it.
Dawn tested it, running her hands over the length of it, which, in turn, brought a shiver to Aaron. The blouse felt hard, but only because his cock beneath it was. Otherwise, it was still a fabric, not a solid like the statues or the giant snake, and it still felt relatively smooth, though not as light. This was going to be good.
She gripped the base, and Aaron’s hips pumped into her hand, his gloved fists gripping the sheets as she touched him. “Ye’ll be the death of me,” he said, eyes sliding shut.
“Uh huh, and you love every second of it,” she said, squeezing again with one hand while using a firm press and stroke with the other, keeping the blouse in place as she worked him. Aaron had nothing to say to that but another soft hitch in breath and a moan.
Dawn liked it. It was almost like touching the real thing and definitely better than her golden condom idea. She bent down and put her mouth on him.
Tried to anyway. The silk blouse could only be wrapped a certain way around him, and that didn’t accommodate putting her entire mouth over his dick. She got less than half the distance she should have before the blouse filled her mouth, saliva and rough fabric making everything uncomfortable, and she abruptly pulled back before she choked.
