by Bianca D'Arc
Envard started to yell at that point and Tristan moved in with several men at arms to subdue him. He would not be quiet, so they gagged him and several of the bolder retainers began to cheer. It was clear they had not liked Envard’s reign over their lands and people.
When Envard had been carted away, tied up and carried by the men at arms back to his room where he would be placed under house arrest, Tristan moved to stand beside Cara’s chair. Thorn stood on her other side.
Tristan called for calm and received curious glances. “There is more, good people of Fadoral. The dragon, Sir Golgorath, has asked me to become his knight and I have accepted,” Tristan announced. Smiles and cheers of congratulations greeted his words.
When the sound died down, Thorn stepped forward. “Sir Golgorath and Lady Sharlis are mates, which makes Sir Tristan my fighting partner,” Thorn explained. “Together, we have asked Lady Cara to be our wife and she has agreed. It was this that prompted my search into the archives because something here never did seem right to me on my many visits to your keep. For one thing, Envard always intervened when I wanted to speak with Lady Cara. I have uncovered this evidence, but it is for the king to decide. Whatever happens now, Lady Cara will be safe, as our bride.”
Cheers followed, along with some laughter and good-natured humor at the threesome’s expense. These retainers had known Cara all her life and she liked the way they reverted to the way they had been during her father’s rule. Their friendship was easy, their respect obvious, if not the bowing and scraping her brother had favored.
The meal that followed was a celebration. The first of many.
Thorn and Tristan, along with Rath and Sharlis, flew her back to the Border Lair the next day, where they started preparations for a traditional Lair wedding. They also held a ceremony at the keep so all their friends and retainers could attend. The king himself flew in to settle the matter of her brother and Cara learned the secret of the royal blood. The welcome she received from the king and his brother, the Prince of Spies, made her feel like family—which she was, by a very distant blood relation.
The king soon settled the question of inheritance. Envard was stripped of the title. The king gave Cara the title, which would pass down to her children, regardless of their gender. The king allowed the trio to choose where they would live—either in the Lair or at the keep—and they settled on a plan of dividing their time between the two. Fadoral needed guidance and leadership while the skirmishes continued. Having the dragons living there, if only part-time, was a good deterrent and defense against future attacks.
Thorn, Tristan and Cara grew closer and closer, and when it came time for their Lair wedding and the first of many dragon mating flights, they were more than ready. The pleasure, amplified by the dragons, was unlike anything they had experienced alone. It was…more. More heady. More triumphant. And more love than she had ever known.
Cara had everything she’d ever dreamed of, though she could never have anticipated sharing the love to two brave and noble men. They had become Prince-Consorts by marrying her and the people of the keep had started calling her Princess rather than just lady. It would take some getting used to, but she was glad to try.
She had gone from having only one brother to having a whole family of royal cousins as well as dragons descended from Rath and Sharlis. She even had in-laws. Thorn’s parents were an older set of knights and their lady, who adopted Cara and Tristan with open hearts and good cheer. They visited often, as did Rath and Sharlis’s dragon children and grandchildren, bringing many knights to their hall.
Construction had started to widen the entryway so that dragons could enter and join in the festivities in the great hall. And a large pit of sand had been excavated inside the courtyard in which the dragons could wallow. Plans were underway to expand and remodel the keep even further to make it easier for dragons to live there, and the workmen set to their jobs with glad enthusiasm. Dragons were good to have around if one lived in constant threat of enemy attack. Not only that, but winter was coming and dragons generated their own heat.
The men and dragons had given her so much joy, she blessed the day the Mother of All had brought them into her life. Even as the conflict on the border continued, happiness and love reigned once more at Fadoral keep.
About the Author
Bianca D’Arc has run a laboratory, climbed the corporate ladder in the shark-infested streets of Manhattan, studied and taught martial arts, and earned the right to put a whole bunch of letters after her name, but she’s always enjoyed writing more than any of her other pursuits. She grew up and still lives on Long Island, where she keeps busy with an extensive garden, several aquariums full of very demanding fish, and writing her favorite genres of paranormal, fantasy and sci-fi romance.
Bianca loves to hear from readers and can be reached through Facebook, her Yahoo group or through the various links on her website.
Website:
www.biancadarc.com
Yahoo Group:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/BiancaDArc/join
Look for these titles by Bianca D’Arc
Now Available:
Brotherhood of Blood
One & Only
Rare Vintage
Phantom Desires
Sweeter Than Wine
Forever Valentine
Wolf Hills
Tales of the Were
Lords of the Were
Inferno
Dragon Knights
Maiden Flight
Border Lair
The Ice Dragon
Prince of Spies
Wings of Change
FireDrake
Dragon Storm
Keeper of the Flame
The Dragon Healer
Resonance Mates
Hara’s Legacy
Davin’s Quest
Jaci’s Experiment
Grady’s Awakening
Gifts of the Ancients
Warrior’s Heart
String of Fate
Cat’s Cradle
StarLords
Hidden Talent
Print Anthologies
Ladies of the Lair
I Dream of Dragons Vol. 1
Brotherhood of Blood
Caught by Cupid
Coming Soon:
Brotherhood of Blood
Wolf Quest
A warrior, a maiden…and a passion that could set the whole world aflame.
Keeper of the Flame
© 2013 Bianca D’Arc
Dragon Knights, Book 7
Despite the fact he is the largest of his half-dragon brothers and better suited to fighting, Hugh has been sent on an undercover mission. Forced to stay in human form, he must discover if the land of Helios is truly the Draconian ally it pretends, or something more sinister.
When he witnesses injustice in the form of a misshapen baby gryphon kicked out into the cold, he cannot remain in the shadows and watch the child suffer. All he can hope for is that his act of kindness will go unnoticed so his mission can continue.
But someone does notice. When Lera cautiously approaches Hugh, she is drawn to his strange, foreign magic. She is entranced by its irresistible allure—until assassins come calling and reveal her true identity.
She is Valeria, queen of Helios, Keeper of the Flame. And she has been betrayed. Together they must risk everything to uncover the traitors and reforge the alliance between their lands. Yet beneath their blazing passion, both are still keeping secrets. Secrets that the Sacred Flame will reveal—if their love survives its cleansing fire.
Warning: When a dragon prince and a Flame Keeper come together, the conflagration is definitely too hot to handle!
Enjoy the following excerpt for Keeper of the Flame:
“What’s wrong?” she asked in a low, urgent voice.
“Good question.” The words, spoken in an unfamiliar voice, made them both whip around to the left.
A black-clad man stood there, in the dark shadows of the vines. How
had he approached without Hugh sensing him in some way? The lady shrank back in terror, crowding Hugh. Then he saw it. The snake eye tattooed on the stranger’s forehead and the deadly gleam of blackened steel in his hands.
“Eyes.” Hugh didn’t need to hear the lady’s frightened gasp to know what they faced. Another assassin. “Why didn’t you just stick her with your blade while you had the advantage?” Hugh stood in the darkened field between the rows of vines to face the man and put some space between himself and the lady. He needed room to maneuver.
“Terms of the contract,” the man replied offhandedly. “My employer wanted her to see it coming. There’s a bonus for terror. Plus, I find it personally more entertaining to make the target suffer.” He looked around at the dark vineyard. “And on her own land too. She’ll like that, she will.”
“In my land, assassins take pride in their silence.” Hugh tucked away the news that the lady’s cousin had put out the contract on her life, though he could tell by the way her face drained of all color that it came as a shock to her.
“It must be a very boring place, then.” The tattooed man moved, closing in as Hugh drew a short blade that had been sheathed in the leather strap over his chest.
“I would call it civilized,” Hugh replied with a small amount of disdain.
“I see you plan to act the hero.” The assassin sounded almost bored, but his eyes—the real ones, not the tattoos—missed nothing, actively watching Hugh’s slightest move. “I’m only being paid for her, but I suppose watching you die first will garner me that bonus.”
Without warning, the man engaged, closing with Hugh in a lightning fast move. Had Hugh been any less alert, he would’ve been dead within seconds. But he was a dragon and had supernatural reflexes even while in his human form. He could see better in the dark than a regular person and had the advantage of dragon magic that allowed him to harden his skin against the sharp metal blade.
While not exactly as strong as his dragon hide, Hugh’s unique magic allowed him to take blows that would leave normal people slashed to ribbons. The assassin moved like lightning, but few of his strikes landed and those few that did didn’t draw blood.
Eventually the man changed tactics, maneuvering Hugh around the darkened vineyard, almost herding him. Hugh tried to keep himself between the assassin and the lady at all times, but he hadn’t counted on there being more than one attacker.
A gasp from behind made Hugh spin. The lady was in the grip of a second assassin, this one with a matching snake’s eye tattooed on his forehead, directly between his real eyes. The blackened blade gleamed to Hugh’s sight as the assassin pressed it against her throat.
“That’s right, boyo,” said the first man, closing on Hugh’s unprotected back. Hugh could take him, but his partner would kill the lady without a second thought before Hugh could get to her. “Now, do we get one eye from this or two? Your choice.”
“You get an eye for each person you kill?” Hugh was sickened by the macabre practice.
The man nodded with seeming pride. “Twenty-seven I have today. My master there has double that number.” From the corner of his eye, Hugh saw something move in the darkness to the left. Something that blended with the night in gray and black stripes. “My master can make it quick for her or make her suffer. Which would you prefer?”
“Neither, actually,” Hugh said conversationally to the man. “We need your help, sweetheart.” He directed his thoughts toward the baby gryphon. “Remember how I told you about your claws? Unsheathe them and sink them into the man holding the lady. I will take care of the rest.”
A split second later, as if he’d timed it perfectly, though luck had more to do with it than planning, the gryphlet erupted from beneath the vines as Hugh sprang into action. Miss went for the man holding his knife at the lady’s throat, claws bared, sharp teeth flashing in the night as she hit the man from the side, raking his arm. She jumped upward, using her wings to bat him with air and feathers, claws and teeth, blinding him and making him let go.
But not before the sharp blade cut into the lady’s neck.
Hugh saw it in the split second as he shifted shape and slashed out with his much bigger claws, killing both assassins at the same time—one with his right hand, one with his left.
The lady was bleeding, but still standing when he dropped the lifeless men to the ground and beckoned to her.
“Get on my back quick as you can. We dare not tarry. There may be more of them.”
The lady climbed aboard and Miss bounded up right behind her. Hugh lurched into the air with less grace and even more speed than before, heading out, over the hills, toward the sand flats beyond. He needed a place to take them where they’d see an enemy coming. Someplace safer than the city or its environs. Someplace close.
The sandy wasteland beyond the foothills was the only place he could fly to fast that provided some of those tactical advantages. And it had to be quick. The lady was bleeding. He had to see how bad it was.
“How are you holding up back there?”
“All right,” she said in a weak voice. Was the weakness from shock or blood loss? Hugh needed to land in order to find out.
He looked around for a likely spot and found something usable not far. He landed more rapidly than before, with less finesse, but more speed, absorbing the shock of meeting the ground with his elbows and knees. The lady tumbled from his back, followed by the gryphlet who glided downward using her fluffy, baby wings. She would be fledging before long, Hugh thought absently as he shifted form and knelt at the lady’s side.
She was pale, blood flowing down the front of her dress. Hugh cursed and examined the wound, glad to see it was not as deep as he’d feared. He could heal this and in time, she would regain her strength.
All dragons had magic. Most had healing abilities. Hugh had trained his healing powers so that he could help humans and dragons alike should there be need. He blessed his teachers now for their preparation as he laid his hands over the lady’s neck, summoning his power.
A fog surrounded them as the Dragon’s Breath came at his call, enveloping her and healing her wound. Miss was sitting at her side and batted at the magical fog in curiosity but didn’t back away. She seemed to bask in the magic that Hugh called and he was glad for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see if any of the blood on the kitten’s fur was her own. He thought not, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
If she was injured, the Dragon’s Breath would work to heal her as well. If not, it would still be good for her to bask in the magic he’d been feeding her in much smaller doses since they first met. As a growing creature of magic, she should have gotten such influxes of magical energy from her parents. Hugh had been acting as a surrogate of sorts until finally the baby gryphon’s energy level was just about where it should have been for her age.
At length he drew back, recalling his healing power. The lady’s eyes blinked open and she stared up at him with confusion.
“Are you feeling better, milady?” Hugh asked with a small grin, hoping to calm her and ease the shock of the startling news she had learned in the vineyard.
“A little dizzy, but better. What was that?”
“The Dragon’s Breath. It is a healing mist most dragons can call. Some stronger than others.” He tried to shrug off his very potent ability.
He was very close to her. So close, he had only to lean in a little farther in order to touch his lips to hers.
Following the impulse he’d had since almost the first moment he’d seen her, Hugh did just that.
Haunted by betrayal, stalked by a murderer and taunted by destiny. Finding justice—not to mention a little faith—has never been so hard.
Wrath
© 2011 Denise Tompkins
The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 2
A murderer is terrorizing the streets of London, targeting women who look suspiciously like Maddy. Under the mantle of darkness, the killer attacks his victims from behind, severing their heads with startling effi
ciency and single-minded brutality. A single gold coin is left at the scene of every crime, buried in the neck of each victim. Nothing adds up, and the deeper Maddy gets into the investigation, the more she learns that there are hostile eyes in every faction—some malicious, others murderous.
Amid her struggles to stop a seemingly unstoppable killer, Maddy learns that dreams are far too fragile to juggle. Her newfound love is crumbling around her under the burdens of guilt and blame, and where one man abandons her, another is slated by the gods to take his place. Defiant, Maddy finds her struggles with free will versus destiny have only just begun.
Figuring out whom she should trust, and when, will force Maddy to reassess her alliances…and reaffirm her fragile mortality.
Warning: Contains Scottish and Irish brogues, heads that—literally—roll, seriously random acts of violence, heartbreak and hope, explicit m/f sex in a variety of locations, a voyeuristic vampire and one dinner table that will never be the same.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Wrath:
Whoa, baby.
The man was built beautifully when he was in his shirt, but out of it? He was a visual orgasm. More muscular than Bahlin, he wasn’t muscle-bound but rather seriously ripped. There wasn’t a stray hair anywhere on his chest and only the thinnest stripe from his bellybutton running into his trousers.
He caught me looking and I blushed. He didn’t laugh but came over to my side of the bed and knelt on the floor beside me. Taking my hand, he kissed each knuckle “May this body please you in any way you see fit to use it, Madeleine Niteclif, be it for sword arm, shield arm, lance, magic, or love.” He looked stunned at his own words. He scrubbed his hands over his face and muttered an unintelligible oath before getting back to business.
