by Anya Nowlan
“I try my best,” she said shortly, sipping at her champagne again.
The bubbles didn’t taste that good anymore.
“I wonder why.”
It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement. He had a tendency for that and when before Isobel had found it cute and quirky, now she found it sort of enraging. She bristled visibly, her well-kept façade of courteous interest and amusement shattering like glass around her.
“Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
He was so intense that despite her best efforts, she felt her resolve to tell him nothing and show him absolutely no interest cracking.
This guy didn’t tell you who he was and now you’ve been kidnapped and being shopped around as some weird bride to a murder of scary dragons. He’s not one of the good guys!
So why was it so hard to convince herself of that all of a sudden, now that he was standing right in front of her?
He didn’t have a drink with him, his hands still kept in his pockets. It seemed oddly casual for a man like him. Though she’d tried her best not to steal glances at him, she still had a few times. Each time, she’d caught him at the very periphery of some crowd, discreetly keeping an eye on her.
It made her feel both good and incredibly annoyed at the same time. Though she had no proof, it couldn’t have been a coincidence that she slept with him and the very next day, she’d been plucked from her backyard and whisked off to play princess bride in a messed up tournament!
Could it?
“Why?”
Isobel hated the way her voice cracked a little as she asked that, and how her grip tightened around the stem of her champagne flute.
The question appeared to catch Aeon by surprise. He slicked his tongue over his teeth, pursing out his lips a bit in the process and reminding Isobel in torturing detail how good those lips had felt against hers and kissing trails along her body. She was practically leaning forward, wanting to hear his answer to her question.
“I feel responsible,” he said finally.
Disappointment flooded Isobel. So he did have something to do with all of this.
I should have known he was too good not be a complete nightmare in the making.
Bitter tears welled in the back of her throat, but Isobel swallowed them with a quick breath. After Joshua, no guy was supposed to be allowed to rattle her anymore. That rule had to include Aeon. Now that he’d turned out to be no better, and maybe even worse than Joshua had been, anyway.
“So it’s your fault that I’m here?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but it couldn’t have helped.”
“What do you mean?”
Isobel immediately chided herself for continuing the conversation. The smart thing to do would have been to turn her back on him and walk away to join another group of megalomaniac dragons in hope of figuring her way out of this mess. But there was something about Aeon, a pull that she couldn’t quite explain, that kept her hanging onto the slimmest sliver of hope that there was some kind of a rational explanation to all of this.
That he wasn’t the bad guy she feared him to be.
“You carry the scent.”
“The scent?” Isobel echoed, frowning.
She’d seen and heard too many fantastic things over the last few days to be capable of telling apart what she already knew and what she wished she didn’t yet. But she had noticed several of the men inhaling deeply when around her, sometimes even before she stepped close enough to them to be introduced.
Come to think of it, she’d seen Aeon do the same when they’d first met.
Weird.
“Some humans… how do I say this…”
Aeon looked positively uncomfortable, a slight sheen of something that could only be called a blush reaching his cheeks. It was adorable, in a damnable-asshole-dragon kind of way.
“They smell inviting to us. Legend has it that it marks women that are destined to be the mate of a dragon. After we… after we slept together, your scent has gotten stronger. It always happens and when a human woman is marked with that scent, it’s easier for dragons to find them as potential mates.”
“So let me get this straight,” Isobel started. “Because we had sex, your creepy dragon friend found it reasonable to swoop down from the skies and kidnap me?”
“None of them are my friends,” Aeon said darkly. “I would never condone th-“
“Hold it,” Isobel said sharply, holding up her hand. “Is what I’m saying true or not?”
“It may be partially true,” Aeon allowed after another pregnant pause.
The way they were standing, looking at one another, spoke of a lot more than a passing fling. Isobel felt completely on edge, nearly ready to snap, reeling with the implications of what she had learned. And Aeon? Well, he looked like someone had found his intensity dial and cranked it up to eleven.
Surrounded by countless dragons, some of whom Isobel recognized as notorious playboys making their rounds in the gossip rags on a weekly basis, he still stood taller and more noticeable than anyone around him. It was uncanny, really, and Isobel wished she could turn her back on him and just stop staring.
But she couldn’t. And deep down inside, she sort of knew that she didn’t want to.
The idea of being swept away by him, snuck out of this horror show, was more appealing than it probably had any right to be.
“It could be part of the reason why you are here, yes.”
The silence that rang out between them after Aeon spoke those words was damn near suffocating. Isobel had to work damn hard at keeping her back straight and her lips sealed and tight. She was afraid that if she said one word, she might not be able to stop herself from saying a million others.
When she felt her lips begin to quiver, not even sure which emotion it was that felt the most uncomfortable to her at the moment, she turned sharply to leave. Before she could finish the step, Aeon’s iron grip locked down around her wrist and he spun her towards her. There was only a foot or so of distance between them.
Isobel gasped and without looking, she was sure that every pair of eyes was on them right then and there. As much as she wished that the space between her and Aeon was both not there at all as well as a million miles wide, she stood stiffly.
“Let go of me, Aeon,” she said, her voice a hiss.
“Isobel, I didn’t mean for this to happen. If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that I’ll get you out of here.”
The fervor in his eyes was unmistakable. Those stormy grays with flakes of obsidian within them seemed to twist and change, the gold stealing the spots of the black flecks. The grip he had on her seemed to radiate hotly, but it didn’t burn like Shade’s had, even when she had touched the man only on the arm.
Where Shade scorched her, Aeon seemed to make her fill with a pleasant, welcoming heat. Visions of an evening spent before a roaring fireplace, wrapped in his arms, came to her mind even when she should have been experiencing nothing but rage.
“And what then? I’m supposed to become your twisted bride or something?”
The way she said it was meant to hurt. The moment the words left her tongue, she wished she could take them back. Like a bullet to his chest, Aeon took a step back, releasing her hand.
“Only if you want to.”
With those words, he turned and left, disappearing into the sea of black tuxes and curious, predatory gazes. Isobel was left in his wake, staring unabashedly, her mouth hanging open.
It seemed that no matter what that man did, he couldn’t stop surprising her.
Little did she know, she did the same to him. And that was a miracle if there ever was one.
Isobel
“You have got to be kidding me,” Isobel murmured, being shown to a high-backed leather seat in a private box high above the ground.
Not that she could see the ground from way up here.
Isobel had no idea where she was, but the view she was given was spectacular. The man who showe
d her to her seat wasn’t either Torren or Flite, or any of the other dragons that she had met at the ball two days prior. He, unlike the others, seemed to also stick around.
Her stomach twisted and she had to put a hand over it to try and settle it. She’d thrown up twice in the morning. Whether it was food poisoning or her nerves getting the best of her, she wasn’t entirely sure. Regardless of the reason, it was annoying as hell. Another thing to worry about when things were already not looking all that great.
God, I hope this stops, she thought, bringing a hand to her mouth as she felt bile in the back of her throat.
A few calming breaths had her able to breathe again and walk to where her guard was leading her.
Isobel frowned as she settled into her seat, dressed in the clothes that had been brought for her that morning. She looked like she was at the Triple Crown, wearing a ridiculous hat and a dress that clung to her every curve in the most business-chic-slutty way she could imagine. Curious onlookers turned to glance at her, some staring unabashedly, from all around her.
Though she was seated at a private box, elevated from the rest of the seats, she was still close enough to several other seats. If she wanted to, and if her guard allowed it, she could lean forward and hold a conversation.
For a moment, the urge to ask someone what the score was almost overcame her.
Clearly you’re losing her mind, Isobel.
With a sigh, she sank back into the ridiculously comfy chair, allowing the vista that spread before her to amaze her as it rightfully should. The bleacher-like seats were built onto a cliff and the drop seemed to go on endlessly below them. If she had to guess, she would have said that there was a small slip of sand beneath them, but all she could see was the white cap of waves washing against the cliff.
So I guess we’re at the French West Coast? she mused to herself.
It was gorgeous, that much was painfully evident. The trip there had been a quick, if painful one. This time, instead of being plucked up by a dragon outright, she’d been shown into something resembling a carriage, with the doors getting locked and then that getting picked up by a dragon.
The flight had not been long, but considering that she had no idea where she was to begin with, it didn’t exactly make for easy guessing as to where she was brought to.
“So what happens now?” she asked out loud, her voice carrying maybe a little too well on the count of the wind.
“Now they fight for you,” a warm voice said, making Isobel jump a little in her seat.
A woman with bright almond eyes looked up at her from one row below, wearing a friendly smile. She was dressed in an ivory dress and jacket that complemented her short raven-black hair beautifully and everything about her screamed elegance. The man next to her remained unperturbed. Considering he was built like a brick house, Isobel had to assume that he was a dragon shifter.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Isobel said, practically clapping her hand over her mouth.
The woman only smiled wider, shaking her head a little.
“Don’t worry about it. I know how it feels. Do you want to know what happens next?” she asked. “They really should do a better job of explaining things to the tributes, I’ve always thought.”
Her voice was velvety soft. While she wore an impressive diamond ring on her finger, what really caught Isobel’s eye was the gorgeous, intricate gold and ruby necklace she had around her neck. It seemed far finer than anything even the most talented craftsmen could devise, and the rubies shone brighter than they had any right to.
“I’d love to know more.” Isobel nodded eagerly. “And your necklace is stunning.”
The woman smiled wide, her hand going to trace the edges of the rubies in a sort of distant way, like she was rediscovering them every time she touched them. There was something very intimate about it. When the man by her side leaned in, who Isobel now guessed to be her husband – or mate, as the dragons called it, - Isobel looked away. The two shared a quick kiss before the man turned away again, a tender look in his eyes.
“Thank you,” the woman said. “They say love makes a diamond shine, but what they don’t tell you is that love does that for all the gems. I’m Casey, by the way.”
They shook one another’s hand over the railing, Isobel having to stand up slightly for it. Her guard took a step forward immediately, his stern gaze sending Isobel back into her seat with the slightest roll of her eyes. One that was mirrored by her unexpected friend.
“Settle down, Grale,” Casey said. “I’m not going to abduct her.”
“Can never be too careful,” the guard now identified as Grale said, his expression remaining stony.
“Uh-huh,” Casey snickered. “I’ll just grow wings and carry her off, now won’t I?”
Grale quirked a brow and didn’t dignify that with an answer.
“Anyway,” Casey continued, turning to lean on the railing separating their seats with one elbow. “They’re going to have a series of challenges now. Each fight sees some of the dragons drop out. The one that’s marked as the winner gets an evening with you. Don’t worry though, they’re not allowed to do anything with you. Despite what you think, these guys are pretty honor-bound. Isn’t that right, honey?”
“Not all of us,” the large man beside her said, his voice rumbling.
“That’s the spirit, scare her further,” Casey said with a sigh.
“That’s alright. I get what he means.”
It pained her to admit that, but she really did. Whether or not it was a good thing that Isobel was beginning to pick up on the intricacies of the dragon kind remained to be seen.
“Good. Anyway, if you look up, you can see them circling above already. Good turnout this year.”
Isobel looked upward and a gasp of surprise tumbled from her lips. The sky was filled with dragons, their massive wings making the clouds spin and twist, billow and reform around them. It was a miracle that they didn’t keep colliding with one another, or so it seemed to Isobel. She couldn’t begin to count how many of them were there, giving up when she reached two dozen, but she was sure there were more of them hidden in the higher clouds.
“Impressive, right? It’s usually three challenges. The dragon who wins the last one, wins you. The first one is usually on strength. They have this straight line circuit through high cover and whoever gets there first, wins. But since there are no obstructions, then it turns into one giant brawl. That’s why there are so many people here watching. It’s usually the most violent challenge.”
There was a note of excitement in Casey’s voice that Isobel didn’t quite know if she could share. The thought of countless men, be they dragons or something different, duking it out for some undefined right to ‘have her’ seemed kind of… well, medieval.
“I don’t know how much I can enjoy it all,” Isobel admitted with a sigh.
“It gets easier when you’re not the one being fought over, I’ll give you that.”
“Were you a tribute, a ‘princess’?” Isobel asked with surprise, perking up visibly.
For some reason, it hadn’t really occurred to her that she could be surrounded by women who had shared her fate. In her mind, the moment anyone like her got a chance, they’d hoof it for the nearest possible escape route.
“I was,” Casey nodded. “Four years ago.”
“And you’re… uh…”
“Happy?” Casey finished Isobel’s sentence.
Isobel nodded meekly.
“I couldn’t be happier, yes.”
Casey cuddled closer to her mate and the dragon shifter’s arm snaked around her protectively. He squeezed her into the crook of his arm like he was intending to keep the worries of the world as far away from her as possible.
“Please don’t take it as anything personal, but can I ask… how?”
Isobel couldn’t really think of a more dignified way to ask that. Even now, she could feel countless curious eyes on her, examining and judging her. Being thrust in a situation like that, it was
nearly impossible for Isobel to see how someone could walk out of this as truly happy with what had happened to them.
As Casey was about to answer, the skies crackled and roared above them. Isobel yelped and sprang back into her seat while Casey smiled, looking up. The clouds were lit with flashes of thunder, the clouds themselves roiling together and then falling apart in the most mesmerizing way.
“Wow.”
“They’re about to start,” Casey explained. “They always get a few of the thunder dragons to put on a little show.”
“Thunder dragons?”
Isobel was sort of beginning to feel like a child being helped along to catch up with the older kids. Everything Casey said sounded completely alien to her.
“Well, you see, all the dragons have certain powers. They move down their family lines and are kept strictly within the bloodlines. The thunder dragons control thunder and lightning. The water dragons can contain and use the power of water vortexes, and so on.”
“I thought dragons breathed fire,” Isobel said, cringing a little at how that sounded.
Why would I think that? It’s not like I’ve seen any of them breathe fire! Maybe it’s because of the smoke thing…
She’d witnessed more than one man spout swirls of smoke from his nostrils at the reception when the topics had gotten more heated.
“Oh, they do. That’s something they all share,” Casey nodded. “But they do something else as well. The Goldplains are healing dragons, for example. They’re probably a good example of a family that’s as ‘out’ as you can get as a dragon, but the general populace still doesn’t seem to realize it.”
The Goldplains were a stupendously rich family of musicians, known for their band Gold Dragons. Now that Isobel heard it being said out loud, picturing the visual shows that the band was known for, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit silly.
Of course they were dragons.
The fact that coming to grips with that was easy showed just how comfortable she was beginning to feel in this madness.
The countless dragons seemed to fly closer to one another, swirling in a round pattern, biding their time. The thunder and lightning roared around them and when the first of the dragons let out a screech of its own, Isobel’s heart skipped in her chest. They sounded louder than the thunder did. Like something out of the ancient times.
