by J. E. Taylor
“No!” I pointed my finger at him. “You lost that right. You chose hate, and I cannot...” I pressed my lips together as a sheen of tears blurred my vision. “I cannot be with someone so intent on taking a life.”
“I’m a dragon. I take life all the time.” His tone hardened as he crossed his arms and stepped back.
His words struck deep inside me and I recoiled. “You... you kill for sport?”
His gaze moved away from me, and his jaw tightened. He shook his head. “No.” He breathed the word as if it were a curse. “I don’t.”
The chill that captured me thawed when he looked back at me. But I wasn’t fooled into melting into his arms.
“So, what does ‘I will do what is necessary’ mean?” I jutted my chin out in defiance. If he was entertaining trying to kill me, dragon or no dragon, he would have a fight on his hands.
His lips pressed together, and he shook his head, raking both hands through his hair. “I don’t know. I didn’t want my mother harmed and if the king finds out she is in his territory, he will have her killed. And the last thing in the world I want to do is harm you.” He waved at me and turned his back, laying his forehead on the wood. “Which puts your father at the top of my target list. But if I kill him, my mother will never forgive me, and neither will you. I am in a lose-lose situation.”
The anguish wrapped around his every word moved my feet and I placed my hand on his back. He didn’t move at first but when he glanced over his shoulder at me, there was a spark in his eye, as if an idea had formed.
“What?” I asked softly.
He inhaled deeply. “Our kingdoms could form an alliance.” He turned toward me. “It would certainly beat being married off to one of those fools who the king assembled just for that purpose.”
I stepped back and crossed my arms. This wasn’t how I ever envisioned being proposed to, but the way Zachary looked at me was exactly the way I wanted to be looked at, with raw desire.
The way the duke had looked at me, along with all the others my father had gathered, was more like someone at a livestock auction. To them, I was just a thing to own. I bit my lip.
Zachary studied my face and a slow smile formed. “Marry me so I can ravage you in the poppy fields like I’ve dreamed of doing since I first caught your scent.”
I cocked an eyebrow. All I seemed to dream about was him as well, but still. He made it sound as though he had been pining for me forever. As a prince, I’m sure he had a line of pretty women throwing themselves at him. He reached for me, and I stepped back.
His eyes sparkled in that thrilling way they had in the field earlier today. Like the predator he was, he stalked forward and took me in his arms.
“Marry me so I can kiss you like this any time I want,” he whispered in a husky voice and then pressed his lips to mine, gently coaxing my lips to part.
This time I did melt into him. The kiss brought a soft moan to his lips, as if he would never be able to get enough of this even if we were together for a thousand years. My entire body tingled with desire, and my arms ensnared him as I deepened the kiss.
He broke away. “Is that a yes?” Hope shined bright in his eyes.
The door banged open.
“Release my daughter at once!” the king growled from behind us.
Chapter 7
Two brawny-looking guards held me in place while other bigger and meaner-looking guards searched Zachary. The tip of my father’s sword pressed against his neck as the guards tossed each hidden blade out of reach. Zachary had enough weapons on him to wage a one-man war.
When they finished the search, they forced him to his knees, and my father withdrew his sword, sheathed it, and glared at the two of us. He glanced at the array of sharp cutlery and his nostrils flared. He kicked the knives to the far side of the room with a grumble and started pacing.
No one knew what Zachary was.
No one knew he was more deadly than all those weapons combined.
And if they did, he would not live through the night.
Zachary remained still under the inspection, but I could tell a storm was brewing inside him. He kept his head low, but the muscles in his jaw jumped every so often, as though he were grinding his teeth. His cheeks remained flush, but he refused to look at my father as the man paced the room, muttering under his breath like a crazy lunatic.
The fae were escorted into the room, and King Henrick turned toward them, pointing an accusing finger.
“What have you been teaching her out in those woods?” he bellowed. “I found her with this... this heathen in the pantry.”
“Do not yell at my family.” I tried to yank out of the guard’s grip, but they held fast. If the fae got close enough, they would smell the dragon blood, just as they had when they found me after my adventure in the Dragon Realm.
Zachary glanced at me. His eyes had changed enough for me to fear he was close to losing control. If Zachary shifted, he was likely to be struck down before he could do any damage.
The fae stopped short and sniffed the air. Their eyes widened and they seemed to huddle together as their gaze shot to Zachary and then to me. It wasn’t my father’s overbearing growl that shocked them.
“He’s a—”
My heart lurched. “My boyfriend,” I blurted. “I met him near the fields on the outskirts of the enchanted forest. He’s a farm boy.”
All three of the fae tilted their heads like lost puppies.
“Farm boys don’t dance like he does.” My father pointed an accusatory finger at Zachary. “Who are you?”
Time slowed as Zachary looked up. His eyes shimmered, giving away his heritage. I twisted out of the guard’s grip as my father’s face went ashen. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second and then narrowed with malice. He reached for his sword.
“I’m the son of the king you killed,” Zachary declared in a low and menacing voice.
My father’s intent was written in the scowl on his face and his roar. All I could envision was my father’s sword slicing Zachary’s head clean off. I reacted, throwing myself between the two men despite the peril.
My father didn’t swing his sword in an arc like I imagined. If he had, he could have easily stopped before damage was done. No, he lunged as if fencing and the tip of his sword pierced my chest. Agony seared my entire body, and I screamed before my lungs closed. The blade retracted, and I glanced at the shock on my father’s face before I crumpled to the ground.
“No!” Zachary yelled and threw the guards off him with a guttural growl. He pulled me into his arms, cradling me as if I were the most precious thing in the world to him.
My father stepped closer.
“You old fool! Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” he snapped at my father and then focused on me as everyone else in the room started bickering with one another.
All the noise drowned into one high-pitched buzz. I couldn’t draw a breath. Hot tears slid from my eyes as I coughed. Red dots splattered on Zachary’s tunic.
“Hold on, Rory,” he whispered, and then pushed up his sleeve, exposing his arm. He put the soft flesh to his lips and dragon fangs appeared as he ripped his wrist wide open. He held his hand over me, and blood flowed from his torn skin right into my wound. “Please, just hold on,” he said as his sharp teeth disappeared again.
His blood mingled with mine and the minute it seeped into the sword wound, I bellowed my pain in a high, gurgling cry. My body wanted away from the scalding dragon blood, but I knew what this burning agony meant. I arched into it and kept eye contact with Zachary.
My father must have known, too, because he called off the guards, ordering them to move away from us. Even the fae were relegated to the far side of the room.
Even with the knowledge that he was healing me, concern reflected in Zachary’s eyes. It wrapped around my heart even more than his blissful kiss had. I panted until my body realized the foreign substance mingling with my blood was not harmful. Pain gave way to tingling, as though I were just wa
king from a long sleep and I sagged in Zachary’s arms.
The fae stepped closer to us.
Relief made me dizzy but as I blinked away the wooziness, the paleness in Zachary’s cheeks gave me a rush of adrenaline.
How much blood had he lost?
My gaze shot to his hand. Blood still flowed from his wound. It wasn’t like his dragon form that had healed just as quickly as my wounds had. He was in mortal danger. Marabel was close enough for me to reach out and grab her silk scarf. I wrapped the fabric around his shredded wrist and met his tired gaze.
“Thank you,” I said.
His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile and then he leaned into me. I held his wrist tight as hot panic flushed my skin. He couldn’t die. Not now. Not after saving my life.
“I’m okay.” I palmed his cheek. “You can heal yourself now.”
He smiled weakly. “I need some food and a nap,” he whispered and slumped on the ground next to me.
“Throw him in the dungeon,” my father barked and swiped his sword from the ground, sheathing it and sending me a hard expression.
The guards reached for Zachary, and I covered him, glaring at them. “Do not touch him,” I snarled like a rabid dog. We were both covered in blood, and I glanced at my father. “I swear, I will strike you down if you try to harm him again.”
“Put them both in the dungeon,” he amended his order.
This time I didn’t struggle in the guard’s grip. Instead, I walked close to the men hauling Zachary’s nearly unconscious form away. As they carted us out of the room, my father’s glare landed on the fae.
Chapter 8
The guards dragged Zachary into the cell and held me in place on the opposite side as they fitted restraints around both wrists, not bothering to remove the scarf I had wrapped around his open wound. He sagged in the shackles as they snapped a metal collar around his neck and attached it to the wall with a thin chain.
“Bastards,” I snapped and tried to get loose from their grip. Zachary needed food. He needed water. He needed sleep. Otherwise he would die in this dank dungeon.
Zachary didn’t react. In fact, I wasn’t sure he was even breathing. His skin had gone nearly ashen. My heart drummed in my chest as they dragged a cot in for me and set it on the opposite wall. I expected chains as well, but when they pushed me down onto the thin bed and stepped away, my mouth dropped open. At least they hadn’t put us in separate cells. That would have been the last straw for me. I would never forgive my father if Zachary died.
“Please, can we have some food and water?” I asked before the iron door could be slammed closed.
The guard hesitated and then gave me a nod. He disappeared and the door clanged with such finality that I shivered. I stared at our dismal surroundings and rubbed my arms. I stood and stepped toward Zachary, but the echo of footsteps getting closer diverted my attention.
A small door at the floor opened and a metal tray with bread and a tin cup of water sat on it.
“Thank you.” I retrieved the food. I headed toward Zachary, and halfway across the room, I hit an invisible barrier. The water cup fell off the tray. Fortunately, I caught the bread between the tray and my body. Unfortunately, the bread was now partly soaked with blood.
I couldn’t get to Zachary to feed him or give him a drink. I tilted my head back and let out a scream that echoed throughout the dungeon. Shrill and full of anger, I threw the tray across the room. It banged the wall near Zachary.
Zachary jerked his eyes open and blinked at the surroundings. His gaze fell on his wrists and then his fingers barely brushed against the metal on his neck. “Fuck,” he whispered in a hoarsely weak voice and straightened so his weight was on his feet and not supported by the chains. He winced. Blood still slowly dripped from his fingers. When he finished inspecting his situation, his gaze landed on me and drifted down to the bread in my hand.
“May I have some?” he asked.
I stared at the tray now on his side of the invisible barrier. “Think you can catch?”
He cocked his head, but he did nod and opened his good hand.
I stepped back enough so my tossing arm wouldn’t hit the barrier and lobbed the bread. It hit the barrier and bounced back at me. Fury welled up inside me, tainting my vision with a red hue. I threw myself into the invisible wall and pounded on it with the intention of breaking through with sheer force until exhaustion collapsed me on the floor.
The door creaked open. King Henrick stood just outside the entrance, with his arms crossed and a scowl framing his lips.
“What have you done to my daughter?” he demanded of Zachary.
Zachary stood tall and flipped his hair back. “I have not done a thing to your daughter.”
My father’s fists clenched.
“Why did you lock us in here like this? He needs food and sleep.” I waved toward Zachary.
“He wants you to watch me die,” Zachary answered before my father could. His voice sounded much stronger than it had when he woke from his stupor, but his face was still deathly pale and dark circles had formed under his eyes. Blood still dripped from his wrist.
I gasped and snapped my head in my father’s direction.
“He came to kill you,” my father replied to my incredulous glare.
“I know. But he didn’t know I was your daughter until tonight. Besides, if he wanted me to die, he would have let me bleed out in your chambers. He didn’t have to save me. He could have just as easily shifted and torched the room, too. But he didn’t. What does that say about him?” My hands shot to my hips. “To me, that says he is a man of honor, even if every fiber of him wants to kill you for murdering his father.” I pointed at my father. “He is a better man than you ever were.”
My words seemed to defuse my father’s anger.
“Why didn’t you just ask my father for his blood?” Zachary blurted.
King Henrick ran his hand down his face and took a deep breath. “It wasn’t enough to save them,” he answered and looked at me before he crossed his arms and glanced at Zachary.
The slow meaning of his words hit me. “You... asked?”
My father pressed his lips together and nodded. “I did what I had to do.”
“My father refused?” Zachary asked, with wide unbelieving eyes.
The king shook his head. “No. He did not refuse, but it was not enough. When he stopped, I made a choice. A choice that brings us here today on the eve of my daughter’s twentieth birthday. The night your mother’s curse is set to come true. And here you are, with enough weapons to take down the entire royal family.”
Zachary leaned back against the wall and tilted his head. “I am not going to harm Rory.” He met my gaze.
“Her name is Princess Aurora. And I would be a fool to believe you.” He glanced at me. “You should heed my warning. Until the sun shines through that window, neither of you are leaving this cell. And if he dies in the meantime, that is not my concern.”
“I will never forgive you if he dies,” I yelled.
My father scoffed at me and turned back to Zachary. “That is a very special collar. If you attempt to shift, it will break the inner seal and rows of deadly belladonna-coated blades set in the outer collar will pierce your neck. If the blades don’t kill you, the poison will.”
The cell door slammed, and my heart dropped into despair.
Chapter 9
How many hours until sunrise? My chains rattled as I shivered from more than just blood loss. It was damn cold in this cell. At least the cold seemed to slow my bleeding, but still, I couldn’t do a damn thing in human form. And the deadly collar around my neck kept me from shifting and fixing this entire situation. With no food, and no way to rest chained this way, I didn’t have much of a chance making it through the night.
My brain kept circling around what Rory’s father had said. Them. He had said my father tried to save them, but it wasn’t enough. I glanced at Rory and a lump formed in my throat at the dichotomy of emotions assaulting my
already weak form. Hate for her father for taking away mine, and gratitude at what he had done because my father’s death had made Rory possible.
I glanced up at the window, wishing for a miracle.
At least we weren’t totally drenched in darkness. Moonlight lit up the cell enough for me to see Rory’s frantic agony, and it surpassed my own.
She clawed at the invisible wall until red streaks marred the air from her bloodied fingers. Seeing her near hysteria hurt more than the cramps in my muscles. She collapsed, sobbing, and all I wanted to do was break these chains and hold her until she stopped crying.
“It’s okay,” I said, even though I knew it wasn’t. I would never feel her body against mine or the flutter of her heart as I kissed her. Just thinking about her lips made my cock twitch.
She looked up at me and her eyes held a devastation I didn’t know how to fix. She shook her head slowly as tears glistened in the moonlight. “Seeing you suffer will never be okay.” Her soft voice cracked.
“I should have...” I closed my eyes and all the opportunities that I had to make her mine passed before my eyes. “I should have just taken you this morning. Damn the consequences.” I leaned my head back as far as my collar would allow. I inhaled her scent, letting it wrap around me like a soft caress.
She sniffled. “I wish you had, too.”
I opened my eyes and looked at her. Regret was a beast more savage than my dragon side. This was not the last emotion I wanted to experience and yet it layered over every breath, every thought. “At least I got to dance with you.” I tried on a smile just for her.
It must have been more natural than I thought because her lips curved into her soft, secret smile, and damned if that expression didn’t move something deep within me. I was serious in the closet when I suggested we marry, but it had nothing to do with uniting the kingdoms. It was a purely selfish want. But the odds of that happening now were not in my favor.
Somewhere, church bells started their midnight toll. She glanced out the window and I followed her gaze, allowing a smidgen of hope to find its way into my soul. It was crushed the moment I looked back at Rory.
