Dragonborn (The Jade Lee Romantic Fantasies, Book 1)

by Jade Lee

  He frowned. "Rashad? Who's Rashad?"

  "Empemrror."

  He grimaced. "How long can you control your dragon?"

  She wasn't sure. She now strongly suspected that dragons only allowed their human pairs the illusion of control. That if the two beings truly struggled for dominance, the best she could hope for was to control her own body. Fortunately, she and her egg had reached a kind of understanding during the last few days.

  "Untillll we separrrrate."

  He frowned. "Separate? You mean, from your dragon? But you can't—"

  "Cannnn," she stated firmly. She could. She just wasn't quite sure she wanted to pay the price to get sole ownership of her mind back. Then again, it was too late for second thoughts. She'd chosen this path a long, long time ago.

  "How?" Kiril pressed.

  She knew he was asking for details of the separation, but she pretended to misunderstand. She looked at him, doing her best to bring him over to her side. Without him, she didn't stand a chance. "You must teach meeeee. To fight."

  He snorted. "That takes a lifetime, Natiya. How—"

  "You fight Emperor," she interrupted. "I fight Copperrrr."

  He paused, obviously thinking hard. "The Copper is large and mature. Even if we can hide long enough for the Queen to grow—"

  "He will not kill his Queennn." Speech was becoming easier as Natiya felt herself more and more grounded in her body. "But you must help us learn."

  He laughed, a quick explosion of sound that had more to do with disdain than humor. "I don't know anything about dragon fighting."

  "Then we will learn together."

  "Natiya—"

  "Trust me." She hated those words. They were the last-ditch plea of the truly desperate. If he didn't trust her now, begging him to believe in her would be pointless. And yet, it seemed to have an effect.

  Kiril dropped his chin into his hands and looked at her before shifting his sights back to the Queen. The creature was still sitting on her backside, her large belly protruding onto the sand. In truth, she looked cute, almost cuddly. But Natiya knew there was a strong mind and an even stronger will inside that pudgy body. And if she had any doubt, all Natiya had to do was look into the dragon's golden eyes to see how closely the Queen was listening to their conversation. It, too, was making plans, though only Amia knew what.

  Then, just to make doubly sure, Natiya directed a quick flurry of questions at the Queen.

  Our bargain still stands, doesn't it? You will fight the Copper? Defeat it? And then we will separate as planned?

  That is the true purpose of this joining.

  But Kiril is right. The Copper is very large and experienced. He has won many battles.

  He will not kill his Queen.

  There was no doubt in the dragon's mind, and so Natiya nodded, turning her focus back to Kiril, who was looking down at the dry remains of the dragon egg.

  "I have betrayed Sabina, myself, and all of Ragona," he said softly. "I know I should have killed you. I probably ought to kill you now." He lifted his gaze to look directly at Natiya. "I think the dragons have more power than you know. I think she will eventually control you, and I will have betrayed everyone for a monster."

  "No—" she began, but he cut her off.

  "But even so, I believe in you. And I will help you."

  She nodded, but again he didn't wait for her comment.

  "You understand that I will have to kill you eventually, don't you? The moment she gains control of you, I will have to kill you both."

  Natiya sighed. "You don't understand. We will separate." Just not in the way he thought. She leaned forward. "Do you know why Dag Racho is evil?"

  Kiril shrugged. "Because he controls everything with terror. He conquers without thought and kills without justice."

  "Because he will not let the bond finish its purpose," she corrected. "Dragon and man were not meant to remain linked so long. Holding on creates madness—in both man and dragon."

  Kiril straightened. "And what is its purpose?"

  She struggled with her answer. She was only now beginning to grasp its full meaning. In the end, she settled for a partial truth: "The Queen was born to force Rashad to finish his bond. To end Dag Racho's reign of terror."

  "I pray that is true," Kiril answered coldly, "because all our hopes rest with you now."

  She stared at him, hearing the dull echo of his words but seeing something else as well. It was not her dragon sight that revealed it to her, but some part of her human self that she could not name. Some part of her heart, perhaps, that said he was feeling lost and terrified.

  "What do you fear?"

  He looked up at her, his heart in his eyes. "I cannot fail again," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I cannot watch everything I love destroyed. Not again." Then he swallowed. "I will go mad," he whispered.

  She stretched out her hand. Not her wing, but her hand, eventually finding his arm. He shifted his body, adjusting slowly until they gripped each other—touching finger to finger, palm to palm. "I cannot do this without you," she said. "It is so confusing. I need your help."

  "You have it," he vowed, and looking at his face, she knew that he had just given her everything. Not just his vow, but his heart and his soul as well.

  "Why?" The word did not come close to being the question she meant. Why would he give her such faith? Why would he risk everything for her? Why was he the man he was? And why did she need him so desperately?

  He struggled with his answer, emotions flying across his face too quickly for her to read. Until, finally, he shrugged. "You give me hope, Natiya. And I have not had that in a long, long time."

  She swallowed, straightening as best she could in the sand. "I will not fail you." This time she was the one who pledged her faith. She would live up to the hope in his eyes or die trying.

  He brought her hand to his lips, kissing their joined fingers. "Nor I you." In this way, they began the war.

  Chapter 19

  Preparing for war was not at all what Natiya expected. She'd envisioned endless hours in flight, drilling for this aerial twist, that winged attack. She wanted to move, to fly, to dance among the clouds.

  Kiril wanted to take things slower. He wanted her to control her own body first before she controlled the dragon. He wanted her to sit her dragon still—in silence—while she stretched her aching body, while she walked or ran or even danced. And then, when her human body could take no more, he continued to make the Queen sit and watch, growing larger while Natiya practiced moving individual parts of the beast's body. One finger on the wing. Not the entire wing, just the finger. One toe of the left foot. The nose. The bellows. The tail.

  War was about discipline, he kept saying. But mostly this war seemed to be about fear—Kiril's fears. Fear that the Queen would control Natiya, not the other way around. Fear that they would be discovered unless the dragon stayed hidden. Fear that Dag Racho's soldiers were even now scouring the mountains to find them. Of course, the hell of it was, he was right.

  She exercised rigid discipline over her dragon, allowing it to fly only at night, only through the darkened sky without flame, and to hunt fish when the mount was gone. That was the most glorious time for both of them: She released the Queen to hunt, only sharing in the experience through thought. Mind to mind they were, and the experience poured into her soul. She would lie down on the sand, closing her human eyes, while the Queen took control of herself, learning to control her rapidly maturing body, learning to develop her own skills.

  Unbonded dragons, Natiya learned from the Queen, grew much more slowly. Part of the magical bonding process allowed bonded creatures' minds to mature long before hatching. Then, when the body at last emerged, the dragon's physical form rushed to catch up, growing as fast as it could eat, maturing as quickly as its sustenance allowed.

  Each night Natiya soared with the Queen, while beside her, Kiril touched her human body, constantly reminding her that this was where she belonged, that there was gl
ory in the human physique as well. He made a persuasive argument, and inevitably she would abandon the Queen to its feasting while she turned her attention to Kiril.

  His bedroom skills were legendary at court, he confessed one night, and the things he taught her were beyond anything she imagined. And yet, he misunderstood what she valued. He believed she ached for his kisses, and he worked hard to make sure they inflamed her senses. He would shift and adjust, his every caress seeking that special moment when she began to hum, deep in the back of her throat, almost like a purr; for in this, her human body echoed the dragon's. He would then grin in satisfaction, deepening his touch, stroking her with his tongue until that hum became a groan of hunger. And when he opened her thighs, pleasuring her with his mouth as he'd done during the hatching, he pressed his hands to her lips as if trying to measure the pulsing tremors he coaxed with such quivering explosion. Only when she was sobbing his name did he at last couple with her, and then it was as if he hated himself for taking his own pleasure while she wrapped her legs around him, demanding his thickness deep and hard and most wondrously filling her.

  These things he thought she valued. And in truth, she did. They were amazing, leaving her spent and filled with a contentment deep in her bones. But that was not what she cherished most.

  She cherished most the moments he touched her in passing, almost without thought, because he wanted to be with her. She valued the way he tried to hide his worry from her, fearing that she would begin to doubt herself. But most of all, she loved the way he listened to her.

  At first they spoke of little beyond training: what she could do, what she could control. Then they began to discuss how they could hide from the Emperor until they were ready, and in what manner a dragon fought. In this, of course, they relied heavily upon the Queen, whose inherent knowledge was surprisingly and disturbingly vast. But mostly Kiril and Natiya explored their problems together "like two blind drunks in an alley," as he often said; they talked.

  And in the last few days, usually when they ate their evening meal, Kiril asked about her childhood and her dreams, about the girl she used to be and the woman she'd wanted to become. He listened to her thoughts and then shared his own past. And this she loved most of all. She hadn't known his left side was nearly as dexterous as his right, but he'd kept that a secret. Nor had she known that he loved shaping metal and clay since the first day he played in the dirt. In fact, without his loga wire, he had been reduced to carving sticks he found in the mountains, whittling them into birds or fish, insects and animals. He inevitably destroyed the things he made, otherwise their cave would be littered with carvings of all types of living creatures. And yet, she saw those sculptures as a window into his soul.

  He had a great love for living things, honoring all that nature gave. And yet he was first a warrior. It hurt him, she knew, to watch beauty and life destroyed, though that too was a secret he kept well buried. Every death weighed heavily on his soul, and she believed that he longed for a time when he could at last lay down his sword.

  That more than anything else pushed her to work at what he wanted her to learn. Because when this was all done, when Dag Racho was deposed forever, then perhaps Kiril could lay down his weapon and find peace in the shaping of loga wire or the carving of stone. That was her desire for him, and so she told him one night. He was sharpening his sword in the fading evening light, and she was waiting for the stars to come out while the Queen dozed near the cave mouth.

  The words came easily, and she spoke softly, her vow as natural to her as breath. "One day soon you will be able to put down your sword forever. There will be no need to kill anymore; this I swear to you."

  He looked up, his expression wistful. "That is a lovely dream, Natiya, but a vain hope. Do not fool yourself into believing it will ever come to pass."

  She straightened, coming to stand beside him. "But after we kill Dag Racho—"

  "Nature abhors a vacuum." He reached out, pulling her down beside him, and she curled naturally into his arms as he continued. "The Emperor controls so much. If we defeat him—"

  "When," she interrupted, correcting him.

  He shrugged. "When this is all over, a great many people will want his power, and most of them are just as bad as the Emperor." He sighed. "That is the one good thing I can say about Dag Racho—he kept many other evildoers in check."

  "But after he is gone—"

  "They will come out in force. Indeed, with his focus on us, some of them probably are already preparing."

  She twisted, liking the sound of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. It seemed to combine with the steady wash of nearby ocean waves, bringing dreams of an eternity cocooned in such simple bliss. She was so content with the sound, it took a moment for her to comprehend his words. "What do you mean, 'are already preparing'?"

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead, but his thoughts were far away. "I forgot that you weren't conscious at the time. Do you remember waking the Coral?"

  The days before the hatching were fuzzy in places, but she definitely remembered channeling energy—only Amia knew how—into the sleeping dragon. "Rashad had kept her like that—in water—for decades," she murmured.

  Kiril tightened his hold on her, folding her closer against him. "That's the only reason we escaped, Natiya. Because the Emperor was busy fighting—"

  "His sister."

  She felt him flinch, and she shared his horror as he spoke. "Sweet Amia, that was his own sister?" He shifted so that he could look directly at her face, and she lifted her head to accommodate him. But she did not expect the fierce anger that burned in his eyes. "I will not let that happen to you, Natiya. Decades encased in water? Whatever happens, I will not let—"

  "Don't make promises, Kiril. Especially ones you can't keep." She straightened the rest of the way, pulling out of his arms. "If this goes badly, neither of us will be in a position to defend anyone." Her eyes narrowed. "Unless you have a plan I don't know."

  His expression hardened, boring into hers. "My plan, Natiya? You haven't shared any of the details of your own. What do you intend to do?"

  She was flustered. "You are to fight Dag Racho—"

  "While your Queen fights the Copper," he finished for her. "I know what we discussed. But to what end do we fight? I plan to kill the Emperor. Will you kill his dragon?"

  She flushed, reminded once again how much of a novice she was at this game of hiding truth, especially from a man like Kiril. He had known from the very beginning that she had other plans, and yet he remained by her side, teaching and believing in her. The thought was humbling. She tensed, knowing she would have to work hard to convince him.

  "Dragons are not evil, Kiril. They are merely... different."

  He snorted. "They are creatures of passion, Natiya. They live to hunt and destroy. They take what they want. And when they bond with a human, they gain all of our intelligence, our reason. Combine the two, and you create Dag Racho."

  As if on cue, the golden Queen chose that moment to scramble up and abruptly launch herself into the sky in order to hunt up her next meal. It was dark enough now for her to be relatively safe from human eyes. Dragon eyes would see her, of course, but that was a risk they had to take.

  Natiya watched the Queen glory in flight, pure joy in her every movement, but inside she felt the Queen's stomach rumble with hunger, and felt her own blood quicken in anticipation of the hunt. Natiya knew the prey would be fish and that the Queen was equally happy with the sea's bounty as she was with land-based meat, but either way, Kiril's statement had an echo of truth. The dragon's primitive drive to hunt was amazingly strong. In fact, in those first few days, Natiya had found it difficult not to become overwhelmed herself.

  Only Kiril had kept her grounded in her own body. He had talked constantly, trying to keep her mind with his. Whenever that had failed, he'd resorted to his touch, his caress. Eventually, she had found a way to retain her own mind and control, even when the Queen was overwhelmed by a desire to kill or eat.


  "I am not evil," she said.

  "You are amazingly strong," he agreed. "And it has not been so long for you yet." He glanced at the nearly black sky. "And she is very young."

  Natiya shook her head. "Our minds are completely separate at these times." She didn't want to admit that her body still hummed with the Queen's flight, the sensations of wind and air tingling across her skin.

  "Which is why you must tell me now—without her listening—exactly what you plan and why."

  She sighed. He was right. If they ever hoped to succeed, she would have to tell him everything. "I think you have it backwards, Kiril. It is not the dragons who are filled with emotions, it is we humans. I think they have a plan—"

  "The dragons?"

  "Yes."

  She knew that terrified him. Indeed, his hand instinctively clutched his sword, so she rushed words out quickly, hoping to make him understand. "But it is not what you think. They don't want to destroy us—"

  "Only dominate us? Take control? Use us as food?"

  The very thought revolted her, and yet she could understand how Kiril might think that way. "I think that is Dag Racho's example, not the true path for all dragons." Then she paused, hating to ask but needing to know the truth. "How often did you see the Emperor feed prisoners to the Copper?"

  Kiril shrugged, the motion tight with anger. "Often."

  "And the laws with such a punishment were tightly enforced to maintain his supply," Natiya recalled. She looked outside to where the Queen flew, playing in the waves, diving and catching fish after fish to fill her belly. She was small now, and sated by a dozen or so of the creatures. But how long before such a meal wasn't enough? How long before the Queen required a full cow or more?

  "This is not how it should be," she stated firmly. "This state—this bonding—is only half the process. It has not been completed." Kiril shifted, his eyebrows pulled down in thought. Natiya took a deep breath. "It is the first step in a change," she said softly. "An exchange of bodies."

  His eyes searched hers, and he began to speak, but she shook her head, needing to finish before he interrupted.