Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition

by Michelle M. Pillow

  He didn’t stop. His mouth was insistently tender, soothing the ache he had whipped into her skin. He trailed his lips over her flesh, both legs, hips, stomach, and breasts but denying their sweet centers. His hands followed—rubbing and stroking. Morrigan strained against her binds. Her head fell back and she gasped for breath. Speechless, she writhed, panted, begged.

  “Choose,” he whispered as he made his way to her neck. He paused in his task, his breath hard and heavy, giving away his matching torment. “Choose.”

  All Morrigan managed was a whimper. Ualan continued a wayward path over her arms and then pulled back, unable to take much more. She waited, gasping for air. He did not resume his task. Instead, he untied her.

  Ualan left her there, waiting for her body to calm from its disappointment. It had been cruel to bring her so far and not give her the release she sought. He was willing to risk a thousand years in the dark dungeon for the memory of her passion laden skin, but he would not risk dishonoring his family name to claim her like he wanted without her permission and the blessing of the council of elders. To do so would make him unworthy of a wife.

  * * *

  “Ualan?” Morrigan whispered.

  She heard movement and discovered he had freed her. Her hands wound up into her hair, pulling the blindfold from her features with an exhausted tug. Hungrily, her eyes searched for him.

  This barbarian was nothing like she’d suspected. Sitting back on his heels, again dressed, he studied her, watching with his cool blue gaze through the opening in his mask.

  Vulnerably, she closed her eyes, reminded that he was a stranger. She didn’t even know his face. The words died on her lips unspoken.

  Ualan reached to smooth back a tear, curiosity shining in his confused eyes. Without speaking, he stood, motioning his hand for her to do the same. Grabbing a large sheet from the side of the tub, he wrapped her up in its warm depths. Next, he led her to the bed.

  Morrigan was too weak to think. Her body could not take another of his punishments. She was tired. Lying next to him, she hugged the sheet to her chest. She lifted herself up on her arm to study his hidden face. He stiffened at her look. Lightly, she stroked the mask, wondering what mysteries it hid from her and almost too scared to find out.

  However, she was a journalist and curiosity was her curse. She wished he would reveal himself, wondering why he held back from her, wondering why he denied them both what he had wanted too. Suddenly, she cursed, wishing she had finished her uploads like a good reporter. She honestly thought she’d have time to fill in the blanks on the way back. She hadn’t expected Ualan. She hadn’t expected any of this.

  His eyes narrowed at the sound of her soft curse, but he did not stop her gentle hand as she fingered the ties by the side of his head. His liquid gaze bore into her. She trembled and hesitated.

  Looking him fully in the face, she said, “You understand that I can’t stay here with you. All the torturing in the world won’t change my mind.”

  Ualan sighed in aggravation. He did not move from his place on the bed. His chest rose in even breath. The crystal still glowed, but not as brightly as before. Whatever power it had was waning some and she could think beyond physical need.

  He studied her face, before tilting his jaw to her. “Choose.”

  “I have a life away from here,” she continued, not knowing if he understood her. “Please, don’t touch me anymore tonight. I can’t take your punishments. I need you to leave me alone.”

  Ualan didn’t move. His eyes grew sad, his breath shallow. Morrigan swallowed. Her life might not be perfect, but it was hers. Falling in love with a man like Ualan was insane, but it was such an insanity she was feeling the pinching affliction of. It was hard to explain and rationalize, but she felt as if they understood each other on a base level. He knew what she needed and had almost given it to her. When she needed to relinquish control to finally feel the depths of her pleasure, he had controlled her.

  Better to be trapped away from this planet, than to be trapped next to him as a reminder of this night and these feelings, Morrigan thought.

  Maybe she was still drunk from the wine. Maybe she was just too spent to think straight. She hadn’t slept well the last several nights and it was pretty late. “You understand, don’t you? Tell me you understand.”

  Ualan said nothing. Morrigan’s fingers trembled. She pulled the mask slowly over his features. She was not disappointed. He was beautiful. His face matched his body. His nose was straight and strong. His cheekbones high like his people. Morrigan brushed a strand of hair from his enigmatic eyes, pleased that he did not stop her from finally looking.

  Touching his cheek with her palm, she whispered, “Do you understand?”

  Slowly, a smile found his lips. It was a pleasant smile, not mocking or demanding, not passionate or harsh. Brushing the back of his knuckles over her cheek, he returned her gentle caress.

  “Yes, Morrigan,” he whispered, his voice soft. She could detect the slight tilting of his Qurilixian accent. His words were not stilted like before, but flowing with soft ease from his lips. She took in his face, committing it to memory as she had his body. She closed his eyes, forcing herself to relax next to him. An unexplainable sadness came over her, as she heard him whisper in acceptance, “You chose.”

  When her body began to settle and her heart to slow, she opened her eyes. Glancing at the stranger at her side, she saw his eyes were closed. He respected her wishes and didn’t touch her. She was glad for it. Her body couldn’t take those emotions again even if it wanted to and right now her aching limbs definitely didn’t want to.

  Ualan’s chest rose in even breath. His body nestled beneath the sheets, which molded to every naked inch of him. The light from the torches had dimmed by small degrees to a softened hue, but still gave off plenty of light to see by. Ualan was a handsome man, breathtakingly so.

  Delicately, her hand hovered over his unmasked features. Her fingers dipped to touch him, but she hesitated and drew them back. She could not risk waking him. It was already clear that she had no power to fight him off and, if she looked into his penetrating eyes, she might be tempted to stay for another round. She peered at the bondage throne and shivered.

  Ualan was glorious in his nakedness. He was carved firmly in all the right ways—from the intimate curve of his leg and ass to the strong arms and chest. Morrigan took a deep breath and held it. Everything around her was so surreal, like a dream. Any moment, she expected to wake up in her own small cubical apartment on New Earth, or in any of the various company space pods she used for travel. The space pod was more of a home to her than her own apartment was.

  Looking around, she wondered what it would be like to live in such a place, with such a man. She doubted she could last on one planet, knowing that soon the wanderlust that had obsessed her since girlhood would eventually set in. And what would she do? Lay around waiting for Ualan to come and have sex with her—or almost sex?

  Although the idea had merit in the short term, in the long run she would go crazy. She was a writer, a journalist. Her mind craved knowledge and excitement. Her intellect itched for facts, no matter how mundane they seemed to others. Her very nature yearned for more, always more. No, Ualan and this simple tent-sleeping life he led were not for her. She would just have to keep the sensations he caused inside of her as a memory reserved for lonely, deep space nights, when only the stars and endless distance were hers for company.

  Sleep was too tempting to her troubled thoughts. Yawning, Morrigan closed her eyes and willingly let rest overtake her.

  Chapter 8

  Morrigan awoke to the humming of what she would guess to be a bird. It was an odd sound, soft and long, and very out of place in her dreams. Before opening her eyes, she yawned, stretching her tired limbs over her head. She felt like she had slept for an eternity. Though her muscles were tight and pulled angrily as she moved, she was more rested than she had ever remembered being. There was a haze to her dreams, a haze to…
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  “Ualan,” Morrigan whispered in surprise. Yawning once more, she turned her head to the side to make sure he hadn’t been a dream. He was gone and she was alone in his tent. The torn strands of her dress were lying on the ground as proof of the night she barely remembered. The memories were muddled by a cloud in her brain. It was as if she had been drunk, without the side effects of a morning hangover.

  She rubbed her temple. The recorder stuck irritatingly to her dry eye. She tried to poke it free, loosening it with several blinks until it slid. Morrigan yawned again.

  “Ualan?” she asked louder, her voice hoarse. She guessed he was gone. Morrigan sighed in heavy relief. She was glad he understood she was not staying. She had been worried he would make more out of their night together than he should have.

  Rolling her neck, she noticed a pile of fresh clothing laid out for her on the end of the bed. They were more concealing than her outfit of the night before. It was a two-layered dress, but looked more comfortable than the harem gown. The under tunic was tighter fitting and light gray. It was the softest material she had ever worn against her skin. Sighing, she looked around for her undergarments. She found them ripped, so had to go without.

  The over tunic’s sleeves were long, belling around the elbows. The dark blue-gray material was magnificent, laced tight at the waist and flowing out in the fashion of a medieval tunic gown. Silver embroidery edged the hemlines in an intricate local pattern, and in the center of the bodice was the emblem of a dragon.

  Morrigan could understand how the rumors that the Qurilixian race was once from Old Earth had started. There seemed to be much medieval influence in their lives—from their dress to their penchant for long hair. She vaguely remembered some of the married men having Viking-like beards and braids. Perhaps alien explorers from long ago had carried the customs to them during those times? Or maybe the Qurilixen people were really decedents of Old Earth, displaced here—evolving differently with their environment?

  Smiling, she slid the gown over her head. It was kind of Ualan to leave it for her. She made a mental note to thank him. If she was lucky, he would let her take it with her back home. She would like to have a keepsake to remember him by. Squinting, she fingered her emerald, and wondered if she had taken a picture of him. If not, she would have to try to do so before she left—for those lonely deep space nights.

  * * *

  The three suns of dawn shone over the red Qurilixian soil. The council of elders had gathered in the morning hours to observe some of the newly married men, taking their place of honor on the stage with the king and queen. King Llyr was one of the center figures at the council’s table. He was a fierce leader, one who had spent all of his reign at war with the neighboring Var. The stress he carried was from that constant fighting, but he never complained of his duties. The queen appeared gentle and refined, but Ualan knew his mother had a temper when provoked. His father often joked at how fierce of a dragon she’d been in her younger days, even claiming that once she turned into the creatures of myth and flew while spouting flames at him. None of the sons believed him of course, but the king was insistent she nearly burnt off all his clothes. Draig did not shift into the ancestral legend with wings and fire. They were more of a human-dragon hybrid, with super speed, enhanced senses and a hard shell of flesh that protected them like armor.

  Now fully dressed in their more formal Draig attire, the new husbands, who had made it to this part of the ceremony, stood proudly before the council. It was a good day for them. The king and queen looked worried to see that only one of their sons had made it to the preliminary showing. But such a thing was not unusual. Some of the other grooms were missing as well. Though this part of the ceremony was an antiquated formal tradition, one they kept because it was how it had always been done, the elders let the absences slide.

  “This has been a blessed year,” Elder Bochman stated to the gathered men. “The gods have given us more matches than usual.”

  The brides were still in bed. It was expected they would be absent this morning if the men had done their duty by them. The wine would have helped them into a deep, relaxed sleep—once sleep was what they chose.

  Seeing Agro in the watching crowd, Ualan grinned at him. Agro grimaced through his darkened eyes. The prince would have to remember to thank the man later for the fight, though he doubted his black-eyed comrade would think of his beating as a favor.

  How could he not smile? Ualan had spent the entire night with a woman who would share his passions, his bed, and most importantly his heart. It was more than he could have hoped the gods would bless him with. Since boyhood they were taught to give offering for a steady and beautiful wife. Not all men would find such a thing. He was truly lucky. In light of this joy, his pride could even forgive her hesitance in choosing.

  “Lord Ualan?” an elder called, waiting for his verbal confirmation.

  Ualan stepped forward without his mask and looked at his father. The king nodded at him to speak. Even though he did not smile, Ualan saw the matching pride in the man’s eyes. The king was very pleased.

  “It is done,” he stated loudly. A smile broke out on his father’s face, as if he couldn’t contain his excitement. The queen reached for her husband’s shoulder. She nodded at her son.

  The wind whipped Ualan’s hair over his face, hiding the steady gazes of the council. Raising his hand high in their direction, he showed the glowing crystal and gave an arrogant toss of his head to better see. They acknowledged in silent approval of him and waited for the next man to step forward. Turning about, he showed the crystal to all. The onlookers gave a gruff single cheer.

  Today was the beginning of a wonderful life.

  * * *

  “Rigan, it is time,” Ualan called as he raised the tent flap. Dipping his head beneath the opening, he went inside. He expected to see Morrigan still in bed. She wasn’t. Looking around, he realized she had disappeared. Again.

  The smile that had graced his features all morning melted with a wave of fury.

  “Gods’ bones!” he thundered, storming out of his tent. “Not again.”

  He felt his features stretching to take on the look of a beast. His eyes burned, signifying their angry transformation from blue to solid gold. His teeth grew slightly in his mouth, dangerously sharp and pointed. His head snapped back harshly, his senses enhanced. Morrigan had chosen, but would she try to change her mind? With a sound that was more of a growl, than actual words, he swore, “I will have no more of these games. I will teach you, dear wife, once and for all that your place is by my side.”

  It was easy for him to track her in his Draig form. Her scent was in his head and his focused vision could cut through the distance with ease. She stood in the field watching the Galaxy Brides ship leave. Relief flowed through him to discover she hadn’t run off like he’d first feared.

  Since it wasn’t commonly known that the Draig people possessed the gift of shifting, he forced himself to calm and change back before she looked at him. He didn’t want to scare her. It was learned long ago that offworld brides needed time to adjust before being told of this little fact.

  Usually, women had no problem with the magic arts or the mystics who practiced them. But show them their lovers turning into a beast with fangs and they went running for the horizon. Go figure. Ualan stood silently watching her, waiting for her to turn her attention back.

  He glanced up at the sky, only to hear her whisper, “Blast all the stars in the fire surges of Bravon, what the—”

  “A true lady doesn’t use such words,” he interrupted. She didn’t know it yet, but she was a princess. There were things princesses did not do. Cursing up at departing spaceships was one of them.

  * * *

  The ship had left without her.

  Morrigan cursed, staring up at the dimming twin lights of the Galaxy Brides spacecraft as it faded into oblivion. Glancing around the spot where the ship had been, she frowned, seeing the imprints of its landing in the red dirt. She coul
dn’t believe it. The spaceship had actually taken off without her.

  “A true lady doesn’t use such words.”

  Morrigan spun around, her face tight with worry. She shaded her eyes to look at Ualan, not surprised that he had chased her down yet again. He was dressed in a tunic that matched hers in blue-gray color and basic design. They had the same silver embroidered edges, except the patch on his chest was larger and his tunic was more of a long shirt that split at the sides than an actual dress. It hung nearly to his knees. Morrigan swallowed nervously. He was handsome, but there was something to be said for the oiled skin and loincloth of the evening before.

  Realizing he waited for her to say something, she quipped, “Good thing I’m no lady.”

  Ualan frowned, but let the comment pass.

  Morrigan again turned to the sky. She shook her head, giving a darker curse just for the benefit of her listener.

  All around them the light of the three suns awakened the planet. It made it much easier to see her surroundings. Morrigan thought she saw the beginning of a village at the base of the nearby mountain peak. It was hard to see any of it in the depths of the big-leafed forest. What people she passed on the way to the ship had nodded politely to her, seeming to study the dragon emblem on her bodice. Either that or the men were checking out her breasts—which she guessed was a real possibility.

  “You have no need to worry. Your belongings were moved to our quarters,” he said.

  “Our quarters?” She snorted in disbelief. “Listen, one-nighter, I don’t know what you think you are doing, but I already told you I am not staying with you.”