Dragon Series: Dragon Heat

by Missy Lyons

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  Red Rose Publishing

  www.redrosepublishing.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Missy Lyons

  First published in 2008-02-28, 2008

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Dragon Heat

  By

  Missy Lyons

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dragon Heat by Missy Lyons

  Red Rose Publishing

  Copyright© 2007 Missy Lyons

  ISBN: 978-1-60435-061-6

  ISBN: 1-60435-061-X

  Cover Artist: Red Rose Publishing

  Editor: Rachel D. Thompson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you can not trade, sell or give any ebooks away.

  Red Rose Publishing

  www.redrosepublishing.com

  Forestport, NY 13338

  Dedication

  I have to take a moment to say thank you to all the people who were able to help me get through my very first novel. So I want to thank my critique partners who offered unending support and advice, and to also thank my editor Rachel who was most patient and helpful, but most of all need to thank my family. Without the support and love of my family I never would have finished this story. They sacrificed their time with me and they gave me the support I needed.

  My husband and daughter gave up the most of all, allowing me to spend hours by myself on the computer, and I am so proud of my daughter who even now makes up her own stories at only six years old.

  Here's to all the dreamers in the world. May your dreams one day come true.

  Dragon Heat

  By

  Missy Lyons

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  About the Author Missy Lyons

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  Prologue

  Ridgecrest City on the Island of Sky

  May 1716 AD

  "If Master McAllister didn't say to return you alive, you would be coming home in a casket, witch.” A very wet and very angry soldier thrust Alyssa forward, keeping a vise-like grip on her arm.

  "I understand you being a little angry, your backside being sore and all, but you shouldn't blame me. That was not any more my fault than—"

  "Than the tar? Or the chickens? The milk souring or Timothy catching the pox?” he interrupted sternly. “I wouldn't be surprised if you were responsible for the drought either."

  All were events that had happened when Alyssa was near, but why should she take the blame? She didn't actually push him into the lake. She just accepted a little help.

  Alyssa stoically persisted in her release. “I wasn't even around here for your drought. They were all a series of unfortunate events, sir. In no way was I to blame, nor should those troubles be brought to my door.” Alyssa ended in a gasp when his unbelievably tight grip tightened further.

  "You are a witch! I won't hear your silver-tongued lies anymore, lass. Be silent or I'll cut out your tongue before you can spell me again."

  "I did nothing to deserve being called a witch! But if I were a witch you should want to be well rid of me,” Alyssa said.

  The soldier ignored her protest, and she muttered the last beneath his range of hearing. “If I were a witch, I would have cursed your manhood to never rise again."

  "What was that, wench?” he growled.

  "Nay, ‘tis nothing—please, sir, let me leave! My father is dead.” Her voice tightened with emotion. God she sounded whiny even to her own ears. “There is nothing left for me here. McAllister only wishes to torment me. God knows why he pursues me. He has all I hold dear. Have pity on me and release me.” Alyssa wasn't raised to beg, but this nightmare was going from bad to worse. It was sheer luck that allowed her to escape that man the first time. She could never escape twice. God only knew where her courage had come from. Maybe it was the pirate's blood in her or maybe she was half-witch, but she had a stubborn side that wouldn't let her be a quiet and peaceful captive.

  Alyssa had to suppress a chuckle when she saw a piece of moss still sticking to the back of her dripping captor. She bit the side of her cheek, straining not to laugh, knowing her captor would not find the memory as entertaining as she. Her escape from this soldier could definitely be attributed to a certain amount of luck and perhaps a certain amount of magic.

  At first she felt threatened by the lake. She was alone and she recognized that lust-driven look. The soldier wasn't thinking of her protection when he pursued her so violently. Nor were his first thoughts of her safe return. She knew in her heart that she would be lucky to escape the meeting unmolested.

  Alyssa was not usually mild-mannered, but still did what any gently-bred lady would do. She gathered her skirts high and turned tail, running as fast as her bonny legs would carry her away from the soldier.

  Little use running did. This abominable man had actually shoved her to the ground. He had not hesitated to act on those earlier lascivious thoughts. He used the weight of his body to hold her down, while he threw her skirts over her head in earnest. He had put his hands on her in such intimate places, she still felt dirty from his hands. It was when she felt him removing her brassiere that the miracle happened, saving her from being raped.

  A full-grown ram had targeted the man's rear which sent him toppling him over. The ram had continued his pursuit until the soldier stumbled into a pond. Even then, the ram pursued him until he was fully submersed at one point.

  Alyssa was grateful for the interruption the shepherd made when he returned the ram to his flock. It had made the soldier forget his original idea, at least temporarily. He had not made another single advance on her virtue during their travel to the Sinclair castle, but his anger seethed beneath the surface.

  It was nearly hopeless, thought Alyssa, staring up at the castle walls. The interior walls were nearly two feet thick walls of stone. The outer walls happened to be five feet thick, solidly built of thick stone, the wooden gates were a substantial two feet, reinforced with steel.

  The castle was a fortress, built to withstand attacks of the worst kind. It also prevented escape with ease. If only she were being taken to a guest room and not the torture chamber. Brilliantly, Alyssa was struck with the notion, and her face lit up with hope. It could work; perhaps she could yet escape.

  "Please sir, take me to your king.” Her father had claimed the king as a friend. The small island's economy had been revitali
zed by her father's shipping industry. She had never met the king personally, but surely he would give her some protection. “Surely he would see me. He would have to see the logic of this. McAllister doesn't own me."

  "Shut up, witch! I have me orders. You are to bewitch none and see no one but McAllister."

  "But McAllister is the king's steward. Couldn't the King tell me as easily my fate? Have mercy on me!"

  "Mercy on a witch?” he snarled. “You deviled me and I'll be damned if I let you do it to my good King George Sinclair."

  "I did nothing of the sort."

  "Deviled the sheep and me."

  "A case of bad luck is all you had.” Alyssa wished he would stop this witch nonsense. The village would have her hung on the slightest accusation. Burning at the stake was just one way to die. She could be stoned to death for the mere rumor of being a witch.

  Stoning was a very painful death. She had witnessed one before and watched the bloodlust sweep the crowd surrounding their victim. They allowed him no retreat; he covered his head in defense but it was to no avail. The vicious crowd beat him with the rocks until his blood covered the stones and his blood muddied the dirt. It was a horribly painful way to die and Alyssa had no death wish. The trials to test if one were a witch were impossible to pass. Innocence could only be proven by the unlucky person's death.

  "Shut up wench, save your lies for McAllister. He is the only one you'll be seeing and if you witch him then I will be killing you myself.” The warning held in his voice, stating he would enjoy killing her.

  It was completely hopeless.

  Alyssa slumped her shoulders in defeat. She tried to be brave even as she nearly let go of her last thread of hope. Her head drooped dejectedly when she saw that dragon-carved door opening to the pit that had held her captive for the last week.

  A most efficient dungeon stocked with all manner of torture devices. For all that Drake McAllister threatened previously, they had left her alone to her fears for the most part.

  Her treatment could have been far worse. They fed her regularly but she starved herself, because the fare was so poor. The bread was stale and filled with weevils. The water tasted foul, but it chased away her hunger. She had been served better food aboard her father's ships, and it was always a challenge getting good food aboard the ships because of a lack of fresh food and being out at sea for months at a time.

  She missed her bed, but the straw provided some comfort and relief from the cold floor. It was no worse treatment than she might have received as a servant. It wasn't until McAllister had threatened his own lascivious attentions on her if she didn't sign over the West Indies Trading Company that Alyssa had tried to escape.

  She couldn't just give up her father's dream. She knew the man would force her to marry him. He would not stop at rape if he had gone this far.

  The shipping company had attracted the unwelcome attentions of Drake McAllister, a man who took what he wanted, right now the only thing between him and that goal was her.

  Unfortunately the company was all she had left of her father. She stubbornly refused to hand the business over to Drake.

  He had threatened her freedom. He could have it all if he forced her into marriage. Once married, she imagined she would be as good as dead. When that happened he would not need her anymore, and her life would be over. That very fear made her desperate to escape.

  She realized this man would do anything to get what he wanted. Even kill her or her father. Which raised the question, did he kill her father? It was very suspicious. She had no doubt of his tenacity or his greed. He had certainly threatened to kill her enough times already.

  Alyssa's heart jumped as she recognized the man who materialized mysteriously from the shadows. He assessed her torn skirts and the brambles in her normally perfect coiffure, his eyes rudely raking over her in silence.

  "How did you escape, girl?"

  "I don't know."

  She had escaped once. She could do it again, she assured herself, gathering her courage.

  He lifted her chin, his fingers cruelly pressing into her throat. “Tell me,” he warned in a cold chilling voice, eliciting a shiver in her.

  "I really don't know. After you left me the door was unlocked."

  He let go of her and made a sound of disgust. “You expect me to believe you walked out of one of the most secure prisons on this half of the civilized world?"

  "Believe what you will. It's the truth."

  Drake McAllister put his hand to his forehead, shaking it slightly in disbelief. “I have been too gentle with you, Alyssa. Now you will know what it is like to have a firm hand in your discipline."

  He motioned to the soldier. “Bring her into the interrogation room. I have arranged a surprise for our guest.” The devilish spark in his eyes as well as the gleam in his smile made her want to run, but running was not an option.

  The wet soldier following her suddenly collided with her, prodding her forward.

  Drake McAllister paused, seeing the soggy disheveled soldier for the first time. “What happened to you, Gideon?” Drake scowled at the man .

  "She witched me, sir.” Gideon wrenched her arm cruelly, making her cry out. “But it won't happen again."

  Puzzling events always did seem to center around her, usually occurring when her emotions were strained. Alyssa didn't feel like a witch, but this bad luck seemed to plague her like the devil. No one else had a hurricane appear when they cried over their dead papa. It was as if the elements felt her pain and were commiserating with her.

  She had not even told of what happened when she saw Michael, her first crush, take that hussy into the stables. Curiosity piqued, she had followed them and watched them. The things they did were positively sinful, but it made Alyssa feel jealous. Tortured she watched as her heart broke. She wanted to be held like that. She needed to be kissed like that. Instead, he had that slut. She burned harder when they laughed at her and chased her off.

  She burned inside.

  The stable burned that very day.

  Thank god, no one was hurt.

  Somehow, she felt guilty. She knew it was her fault. She didn't light the fire with a match but she knew it was her fault. Alyssa told no one, fearing she would be blamed. She could only hope that same bad luck that followed her would save her now. She had no other hope.

  Drake followed, shaking his head in disgust. “I see I can't trust this to other people and will have to take care of you myself."

  "Actually, your peons are doing a great job of handling it. So you can ignore me another week if you want."

  "No, Alyssa. I see my mistake now. I have been far too kind to you. I offered kindness. Marriage even, when I should have just taken what I wanted.” He raked his steely eyes over her womanly curves. Even at only seventeen, she was more of a woman than girl, with curves in all the right places. Her thick black hair framed her unblemished face. Many men paid attention to her beauty.

  Drake intercepted them at the table; he took her wrist with a firm grip and told Gideon to step aside. His hold on her would not allow her to withdraw.

  She clenched her fists at the unspoken tension in the air. Maybe he wouldn't try anything while his soldier was still present.

  Fervently she wished for fire.

  She wished for wind.

  Anything to help her escape.

  Drake's sharp laughter was icy and rang hard in her ears. At the same time she heard the shackles click over her wrist. She opened her eyes to see the iron contraption built to hold a body motionless while under torture.

  She shivered but not from the cold but because she was feeling too much dread and fear inside of her to feel the cold of the dungeon.

  "Please.” She put her hand to his chest, a feeble gesture against his more powerful body. Her other wrist was secured, exposing her back. She was left to wonder, would he whip her into submission? “I beg you release me, I have done nothing wrong."

  "Oh, but Ms. Hawkins, you have done everything wrong and don
't expect your sweet words to help you escape this time."

  "Oh no, please don't—"

  "Gideon, get me a gag."

  Alyssa strained to turn her head, to see behind her. “Please, I will promise to be quiet. Don't do this to me! Don't gag me!"

  "That's a risk I won't take,” he scoffed.

  Alyssa tried not to think of the other mouths it may have been used on as the alien object was forced between her teeth.

  "This will ensure your silence."

  Fervently she wished for a violent lightning storm. She imagined it striking down Drake McAllister to leave a pile of ashes.

  She opened her eyes to see nothing had changed.

  She clenched her eyes shut and again wished for a fire strong enough to melt iron and stone.

  She listened and opened her eyes. Still nothing.

  She closed them again, swallowing hard. Wishing with all her might, she wished she would be rescued. A herd of sheep to come running. A herd of woolly bodies barging through the doors, a stampede to trample over Drake's body and break his neck.

  After opening her eyes, she found the room still disturbingly empty. She feared nothing would be rescuing her today.

  "Do you know what I have in my hands?"

  Alyssa heard the rustling papers, wondered what kind of trick he was playing with her. Had he found a way to force her to marry him? He sounded smug enough.

  "I have proof here that you, Alyssa Hawkins, are a traitor to the king."

  Alyssa made a high-pitched sound. He wouldn't kill her, would he? Would he kill her because he wanted her father's shipping company? What lengths would the man go to get it? A man like him wouldn't stop at murder or outright thievery. He was a madman.

  "It goes on to say that you haven't paid taxes in quite a while. The state will have to take over the West Indies Trading Company. I don't have to tell you that as the king's steward, I will manage it. But I have to say that its assets are meager and won't pay for the entire tax bill."

  Meager assets? What a pile of lies! It was a shipping empire with twelve merchant ships and two factories in India. This was ludicrous, even if the bank accounts were not enough, one ship would be more than enough to pay a tax bill. The man was outright stealing.