Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “No,” she said truthfully. The ache in her chest replaced the ache in her arm. She really did miss her crew. They were the only family she’d ever known. Olena pulled away from him when he tried to pull her into his arms. “I have no fear of alien cultures. So what if you are a shifter?”

  “But, the other brides…” Yusef tensed.

  “I won’t say anything. I don’t want to be the one to catch them when they faint.” Olena forced the smiling mask over her face. “Let their husbands deal with them.”

  “But they are your friends.”

  Friends? Olena thought in surprise. She’d never had a female friend before. No, a friend was someone who had your back. Those girls on the ship would turn their backs as soon as they found out what she was.

  “No,” she said, with a calmness that made him pause. She closed herself off to him, not letting him see any trace of her emotions. “I just traveled with them. I didn’t have any friends on that ship.”

  Sighing, Yusef pulled on his boots and held out his elbow for her to take. “Shall we?”

  “Sure, why not,” she mumbled, not really thinking about where they were going or what they were about to do. None of it mattered anyway.

  “By the way,” he said as he led her out of the tent. “Do I have your promise that you will never drug me again?”

  “Sure, why not,” Olena repeated. But, this time, she flashed him a bright, impish smile. Her eyes shone with disobedience. “So long as you don’t deserve it.”

  Chapter 7

  Olena stood before the council leaders, bowing her head regally to the king and queen seated in the center of the ranks. They nodded back, their crowned heads tilting forward. They smiled graciously at Yusef and his bride. The royal couple was dressed in matching purple tunics. Looking over at Yusef’s black outfit and then hers, Olena frowned. They weren’t going to have to dress alike every day, were they?

  The bonfire in the main yard had burned low sometime during the night. Olena noticed no one looked the worse for wear, expect for one beefy warrior on the sideline with two black eyes. Seeing he had her attention, he smiled jovially and nodded his head. Olena insolently winked back.

  “Queen Mede, King Llyr, may I present Lady…” Yusef’s voice trailed off. With a sheepish grin, he turned to his wife.

  Olena absently rubbed her arm and flinched as she came too close to the wound. She was glad Yusef had stopped asking about it. It was not something she could explain without first telling him she was a pirate.

  Yusef put his hand over hers and leaned to whisper, “You know I never got your name.”

  Unable to stop herself, she smirked. “I know.”

  “What is your name?” Yusef asked, insistent.

  The king and queen shared a look. Olena smiled at them and the queen hesitantly returned the look.

  “You should have thought about that earlier, dragon,” Olena said mischievously. Someone from the crowd began to chuckle.

  Straightening, Yusef announced, “My lady wife.”

  The queen tried to hide her amusement behind her hand. The king pressed his lips and nodded. Olena tried not to laugh.

  “Beware, wife, you’ve had your fun, but I’ll discover your name.” Yusef’s voice held much promise in it. “Now crush my crystal and be done with it.”

  Olena’s suppressed laughter died at his words. Her smile wavered slightly. Lifting one hand, she took the crystal from his neck and dropped it on the ground. With a hard whack, she crushed it beneath her boot. The gathered crowd cheered.

  Through a haze, she heard the queen speak, as if in slow motion, “Welcome to the family of Draig, my lady. I hope you will enjoy your new home.”

  The gentle fog that had remained over her, lifted. Her eyes became clear and the pain in her arm intensified tenfold. She blinked, feeling the blood run out of her features. It was as if some protective shield had broken and she was again human.

  “Yusef.” The queen rose to her feet. She pointed at Olena. The proud smile faded from his face. “Grab her. She’s bleeding.”

  A commotion started and a councilman called for a medic.

  Olena blinked, not understanding what was going on, not understanding the queen’s frantic words as she pointed in her direction. Numbly she looked down at her arm. Her hand was covered in blood. Her ears rung, deafening her with the rush in her brain. She saw Yusef reaching for her as she fell. It was like watching a dream. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She was out.

  * * *

  Yusef gathered his wife into his arms, catching her against his chest as he lowered her to the platform. Her blood covered her arm. He ripped her sleeve open, revealing the blood-soaked bandage wrapped around her upper arm.

  The king ordered the onlookers back and the crowd parted to let a medic through. Yusef unwound the bandage as Tal ran up the stairs. The man dropped his kit beside her and pushed the prince back.

  “Yusef,” his mother asked in shock. “Y-you…? Never mind, I know you couldn’t have, but how could you not see this?”

  “What happened?” the medic asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Yusef answered very quietly, conscious of the dragon-shifter ears listening around them. “I did not see.”

  The king looked at him, revealing with his gaze that he expected a full report later. Yusef nodded. He had nothing to hide from his parents.

  The medic grabbed a hand laser and seared the wound shut, burning the flesh together in a thin thread. Her emerald eyes popped open. Yusef grabbed her hand. She squeezed him tightly.

  “Stop,” she demanded.

  “No, it’s all right. He’s fixing it for you,” Yusef said.

  “No,” she said, growing more insistent. The medic was almost done. Turning her gaze to Tal, she startled him by mumbling, “Don’t take the scar.”

  Yusef shared a look with the medic. Slowly, he nodded, assenting to his wife’s request. She closed her eyes and passed out again. The medic pulled back. The wound looked angry but it no longer bled.

  Quietly, the medic took a reading of her blood before giving Yusef instructions and some medicine from his kit. There was nothing else he could do, except lessen the scar later if she changed her mind. The medic then announced to the crowd that the new princess was going to be fine. The crowd cheered happily with the news

  Yusef picked up his new wife and cradled her in his arms. Then, bowing his head to his parents and to the council, he carried her off to his home.

  * * *

  The queen watched her son leave. Turning to her husband, she whispered, “What is going on? Last night was so promising. Our sons, our nephews…” She let her words trail off, conscious of where they were. Instead, directing her thoughts at her husband so he could hear them in his head, she continued, “That is two of our sons with troubled marriages. And our nephews are—”

  “I’ll speak to Yusef and Olek,” the king interrupted her panicked thoughts. “They are dependable men and will have it all in hand. Do not worry, my love, they are all strong, good men. They are finishing their wedding ceremonies. That is what matters today. I’m sure they’ll settle right into marriage without issue.” King Llyr moved to take his seat.

  “You’re probably right. Let us hope the others have an easier time.” Queen Mede joined him as they awaited the arrival of the next newlyweds.

  Chapter 8

  Olena curled into a little ball, feeling like she was five years old again. Her body burned as if she had been set on fire. The man in the dirty black coat was coming for her. His old, leathery hand shook as he wielded an injection needle. She was like an animal, so small, so scared, kept in a cage she couldn’t stand up in, as they drugged her to sleep…to sleep…

  Olena’s eyes opened in horror, wild and dazed as she thrashed around on a bed. A hand came for her and she screamed. But the past was not through with her, as she drifted back into her black torment of dreams.

  She was in a ship, her spaceship. Her crew was gone and she was crashing onto an un
known planet. Her heart pounded in fear, fear she never admitted to herself. She was alone. She was sure she was going to die alone, but she didn’t die. She crawled out of the wreckage, shooting her way out, as the path was blocked, and then she was running and wasn’t going to stop.

  “Easy, now, wake up.”

  Olena blinked, confused as she stared at him. Hoarsely, she insisted, “My ship.”

  Her ship was gone. Everything was gone. She had nothing left but herself. What if her crew didn’t come? What if she was trapped in the tiny box forever with only glimpses of a dirty man with leathery hands? To sleep…to sleep…

  * * *

  “To sleep,” his bride whispered.

  “Shh.” Yusef studied her face carefully. He’d gone back to the tent, sniffing out her blood by the tub. It hadn’t been hard to conclude she’d inflicted the injury on herself with the knife from the fruit tray. He could also smell traces of her on the blade, though she had washed it. The only question was why? Pushing back her hair, he murmured, “The medic says he found tantren fruit in your bloodstream. The knife was used to cut it before you used it. You’re allergic to tantren and that’s why you feel so ill.”

  His bride’s infected arm was an angry red and her pale skin even whiter. Hair spilled out around her over the pillow in flaming waves. He’d dressed her in one of the nightgowns from her bags. It looked frumpy on her, with wide ruffles and lace on flannel. She nearly swam in it, but it was the only nightgown he could find.

  Frowning, he glanced at her bags. He’d also found a gun, an expensive one that could be slipped past most security points. Next to the weapon, he’d discovered a wad of intergalactic cash and a packet full of different ID’s—all with her picture, and all from different planets and sectors. Who exactly had he married? Margaret Meriwether? Torch Fontaine? Olena Leyton? Sage Miller? There were about twenty different names to choose from.

  As her eyes opened and looked at him, she rose up on the bed. Painfully, she clutched his arm, and said, “My ship has crashed. I need a new one fast. They’re coming.”

  Yusef frowned. It was clear she hadn’t heard him and was still in the throes of her nightmare. The medic had warned him she might have an adverse reaction. Thankfully they’d crushed the crystal when they did. It had been numbing her to the worst of the pain, and if she’d stayed under its spell she’d have died before any of them realized what had happened.

  “Here, take some medicine,” he offered, getting up from his bed to get her some water. “It will help you to sleep.”

  “Don’t,” Olena growled. “No painkillers, it’s against the code. No killing the pain for three days. Let it bleed.”

  Yusef frowned. What code? What was she talking about?

  He went to her, lifting up her head to force the medicine back. Her round emerald eyes looked at him and she stubbornly pressed her lips together and shook her head in denial.

  “You won’t best me. Let it bleed,” she said, growling with the insistence of her words.

  “It will help,” Yusef said soothingly. He kept the worry from his voice. Never in a hundred years would he have imagined his first day of marriage would turn out like this. He tried to force the pills into her mouth, but she stubbornly refused, biting at his finger when he would pry her teeth apart.

  Standing, he went to the wall and talked quietly into the intercom. His home was directly linked to the mountain palace. Within minutes the medic was there. Yusef ordered him to inject her with the medicine.

  The medic obeyed. His wife saw the needle and panicked, trying to scurry across the bed. Yusef caught her and held her down. Soon it was over and she was limp in his arms.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Tal said, standing. He moved to help adjust her on the bed. “She’ll heal up just fine. Once this medicine kicks in, she’ll be good as new. It will kill the bacteria in her blood stream. Just make sure she never eats a tantren. It could kill her if she doesn’t get help immediately.”

  “Thank you,” Yusef said, leading the man out. When he came back carrying a bowl of hot water, she hadn’t moved. He sat on a chair next to her and cleaned the dried blood from her arm.

  “Torch?” he asked, thinking her hair indeed deserved such a fiery name.

  She didn’t move.

  He tried a few more before saying, “Olena? Margaret?”

  She answered to none of them.

  “Sage, can you hear me?”

  She mumbled in her sleep, but didn’t speak. Yusef looked at her ravishing face, thinking how beautiful she was and how fragile she seemed at the moment.

  Sage, he thought. My wife’s name just might be Sage.

  Chapter 9

  It was a long first day of marriage for Yusef, watching over his delirious wife. He sent word to his parents through Tal that she would recover. As he watched her sweating body toss and turn for several hours, he wasn’t so sure. Due to her allergy, her reaction was much worse than it would have been if she’d merely been cut.

  Questions swam in his head, but he did not reveal what he had found in her luggage. Watching her toss and mumble once again, Yusef knew he would have to wait for his answers.

  After careful examination, he would almost venture a guess that the luggage wasn’t hers at all. All of the clothing, but for the tight black number with the torn sleeve, wouldn’t come close to fitting her. The name written on the luggage tag read, Doris O’Rourke, a name that didn’t match any of her numerous ID’s.

  That first day of marital bliss came and went with her moaning gasps of pain and insane ramblings of crashed spaceships, slavery, and pieces of adventures Yusef couldn’t begin to decipher. It would appear his little mystery wife led a very exciting life. He wondered what would bring her to Qurilixen as a bride.

  Letting her have his bed, he chose to spend the night on the couch. It was a long time before he finally slept. And when dreams finally came, they were troubled and full of unanswerable questions.

  * * *

  Olena cracked open her eyes. Aside from needing a drink of water, she felt wonderful. Her dreams had been dark, nightmarish horrors of the mind, but she was used to that. Nightmares had plagued her ever since she could remember. Not once could she recall having a good dream.

  Looking around, she frowned. It took a moment for her to remember where she was—Qurilixen. The word was like a slap of cold water in the face. Blinking, she looked at the disgustingly proper nightgown she wore. It was as if she’d been attacked by ruffles in her sleep. She practically gagged in repulsion. Olena never slept in a nightgown, preferring to sleep with her gun and nothing else.

  Yawning, she scratched her backside out of habit, where her slave brand used to be. The bedroom was wide, with low ceilings. A fine breeze drifted through a crack in the picturesque window that made up the far side of the wall. A dark curtain was pulled over it and Olena could see just a sliver of trees outside.

  The bed she laid on was stuffed with feathers, light and downy and the thickest she had ever felt. A black coverlet draped over her legs, the emblem of a large silver dragon’s head across the top. Wearily, she kicked it off, realizing she was naked beneath the gown. She took mental note of her body, checking it for injury. Aside from the slight ache in her bandaged arm, she appeared unharmed. For that she was relieved.

  Seeing the floral bags she had stolen, she froze. The ugly nightgown had come from them. Olena rushed to the bags and began digging through them. The ID’s were right where she’d left them but the gun was missing. Olena scowled. That weapon was rare and had cost her a very extraordinary pearl, the size of her fist, and nearly two years of negotiating with the Boiler Sect to acquire.

  Having spent the better part of the last month in a robe being pampered, mainly because she didn’t have anything else to wear, Olena dug through a large carved dresser of dark wood. She didn’t find anything worth putting on. All the clothes belonged to her “husband” and would undoubtedly swim on her.

  Again, she scratched her backside. Ol
ena smirked, thinking it very hilarious. She was married. Poor man who’d taken her on. She felt only a little sorry for him. As soon as she got her gun back, she was out of there.

  “Swim,” she said softly, crossing to the window and looking out into the bright forest. She yawned, stretching her arms. She could use a little exercise. Smelling under her arms she flinched—ugh, and a bath.

  Padding barefoot to the bedroom door, she cracked it open. The house was large and open and very much like a lodge. Wood made up the walls in giant, round logs. She recognized the wood as coming from the forest outside. A fireplace of natural stone was set into the wall, with a chimney leading up to the roof. Little wooden figures were on the mantle. Fur rugs were everywhere. A small skylight dome in the ceiling was covered with curtains, matching the dark curtains hanging on one of the walls. Olena detected another large window beneath the curtains and smaller ones on the opposite side of the home.

  The house was split into two levels. Where she stood, on the top level, was the bedroom. A large bathroom was across from the bedroom and a sliding door led out to a back patio of broken yellow stone. The top floor curved around the center lower section to the kitchen area. Taking two steps down would get you to the living room and fireplace.

  By the small windows was a wooden dining table set into the wall, with rounded cushioned booth seats. An open kitchen with wooden cabinets, glossy countertops, and a food bar with stools was next to it. Everything was dark wood accented with black. A carved dragon’s head was above the food bar, embedded into the wall where the ceiling rose higher. It matched the design on the coverlet.