by Missy Lyons
Yet today, she almost killed Elsbeth. She wished she could have killed Xanther and yet she also did not want to really hurt him. She didn't like that what he said was true, that she could not hurt him. Worse still, how much she desired him to be near her, comforting her.
She should be a rock. She didn't need anybody, least of all him.
She stopped fighting the melancholy that overcame her soul, inviting the sorrow in. It was amazing how fast the thoughts darkened even further. Such a deep shade of grey, they were near black.
Her thoughts always came with colors, but most of the time, she kept the colors from the most brilliant shades. She fought for control, to keep the colors muted, for when they were pure and completely overpowered her like they did now, that was when the trouble came. The unfortunate events that plagued those closest to her always came when she was emotional. This time she just didn't care.
The rain began, steady and relentless. Hard drops of water pounded the tent, but she no longer cared. She invited the grey storm with her mind, her crying fit rending her body with heartache.
Her father needed her to be strong. He needed her to avenge him. The Elisaid expected her to be a warrior. But right now all she felt was weak and helpless and desperately alone.
It was too much to bear. Life would be so much easier if these troubles were someone else's.
* * * *
Xanther ducked into the tent, soaked from head to toe. He had avoided coming back as long as he could. The vixen taunted him as no one else had ever been able, tempting his self-control in far too many ways. One minute he wanted to take her over his lap and give her a well deserved spanking, or worse throw her to the ground and claim her in a heated passion, and the next she was ripping out his heart.
He had tried to leave her alone, to honor her wishes. He had no doubt, that it her who caused the storm. Dragon magic was elemental, untrained as she was, she could do a great many things that would be unfortunate and disastrous. She was so unaware of the power that connected closely to her.
One look at her spent body ripped at his heart. Regret twisted in his gut. She was curled up like a child, stifling her sobs; her eyes had grown red and puffy from the many tears she had shed.
How could he have left her alone like this? He was such a cad.
Hail began to pound the tent. Lightning flashed, illuminating the tent to be as bright as daylight.
He went to her, kneeling on the bed next to her body. “Alyssa?"
She looked at him, before sniffling and burying her head beneath the pillows. She did not want him to see her this way.
His hands began to rub her back, massaging the knots along her shoulders. “I should not have left you."
"I asked you to leave."
"I still should not have left you. The last thing you need right now is to be left alone."
She was stoic in her silence.
How did he know her so well? She wanted to deny it. She wanted to believe the opposite was true, but his presence was calming. She didn't want to be alone, or to be without him. Without him she felt cold and alone.
Yet now that he was there by her side, she felt warm as a midsummer day. It was soothing to have him here. But she didn't want to tell him that. He didn't need her stroking his ego.
Xanther knew she was calming down, the worst of her emotions having been vented. Proof of her spirits lifting was the storm outside abating. There was no doubt in his mind that she had caused it.
He sighed before asking her, “Are you hungry? You missed dinner. I could get you something if you like."
"No thank you."
Still wrapped up in such a delicately fragile position, her eyes looked hollow and vacant. She needed his tenderness. He let out a sigh of defeat, before lying down next to her, taking her into his arms. Always the fighter, she stiffened immediately.
"What are you doing?” she worried, her voice still weak from the bawling. She felt like a blubbering idiot, but at least she was done crying now. If she let him hold her like this now, he may think she would allow it any other time. That she might welcome his tender embrace all the time.
He gave her a pat on her hand reassuringly, “Holding you."
"You can't.” Her voice was panicked, a note of alarm rising from it. “I should not even be here in your bed."
"I disagree. My bed is exactly where you belong."
"I'll just move to the floor. It will be better that way."
"If that is how you want to sleep, then I will just follow you there."
"Why?"
"Because you need to be held."
And for the first time since she had met Xanther, she didn't fight him. She just let him hold her in his strong arms. It felt like heaven. She really didn't want to be anywhere else but in his arms.
* * * *
The ride to Ridgecrest was not unbearable. Even if Alyssa had been forced to ride with Xanther. He left her alone to her thoughts and did not force a conversation. Elsbeth had given her a wide berth since yesterday and did not provoke her with the usual taunts. Instead there was a new quiet respect for one another.
Xanther's horse was a strange creature. Its size was much larger than any she was used to. The destrier had been used for knights in times of battle. Most destriers had not been as tame as this one. Most bit and could not be shy in battle, for they did not live long if they did not have the ruthlessness to continue on through a fight, even trampling one's enemies as they attacked.
Alyssa was amazed when the horse snorted at her outstretched hand, before looking away. Its ears were perked forward, not back. It seemed so calmly accepting.
Every other horse she had ever approached had reared back in fear, voicing a protest, their hooves slashing the air in self defense, shying away from her as if she were a predator. Stupid creatures they were; on a whim, she had once explored the mind of a horse. She found it to be much like a chicken. Its thoughts were rapid and short lived. Sometimes making no sense whatsoever.
Alyssa had learned a little about horses and the different breeds. She may not be able to take pleasure in riding one but she knew there were different breeds for different purposes.
Some were bred for their grace and elegance such as carriage horses. Some were bred for their strength or their speed. But this was no ordinary horse.
It was a war horse, bred for its distemper and a strong build to carry a knight into full battle. The horses had to be aggressive to not fear swinging swords and run over any man in its way. But this horse was as gentle as a kitten.
Strangely, his black destrier had not spooked, allowing her to slip onto his back with no fuss whatsoever. It made her question her own memories. What had he said last night?
Do horses spook near you? Or have you learned compulsion?
Is that how the horses stayed so calm? She rubbed her hands on its neck, running her hands through its mane in awe. She had never been able to ride a horse before. Not that she ever had much need on a ship, but the few years she had been in civilization had been difficult.
Xanther relaxed, letting her find her seat before him on the saddle. This was heaven. It had killed him not to hold her last night. He wanted to be the one to comfort her, to help her accept him, but she wasn't ready. After the initial battle of last night, the vexing woman had brooded in silence, but there were no more arguments.
When he had insisted she sleep near him in his tent, she was even polite, but had firmly refused the bed. Instead, she chose to sleep on the floor rather than in his arms. When she awoke in his arms on the floor, she had not fought, but accepted it. It would take time, but in the future, she would welcome him. He would enjoy seducing her, awakening her sleeping beast within.
His seduction may have to happen sooner rather than later. She was all that he thought about. Unfortunately, there was more to deal with than his mate. First and foremost, he needed to find the traitor and protect his father's life.
Second on his mind, he wanted to speak with Jonathan about the g
irl. He wanted to know just what had taken place. She didn't understand what the marks meant. So did that mean that Jonathan knew while he was marking her what she was, or that whoever had brought her to Jonathan had known?
Alyssa tried to enjoy the ride, enjoy the natural beauty of the forest. She looked as much as felt the veins of magic that ran through all living things. There were many of the tiny threads of magic feeding nature. The power here was strong; why couldn't she pull it to her, like her sister Druids?
It was within the natural order of things. Druids could tap these magical resources since they protected the Balance. Was that why she had not been able to use her magic? She kept trying to tap other magic, when she should have been using her own dragon magic?
"Xanther, how long before we reach your home?"
"Half a day's ride."
"I have been thinking, Xanther. You said you can help me to control my gift."
"Yes."
"I am not sure I can believe it all, but if you can help me, will you please teach me about my magic?"
"What do you want to learn first?"
"Tell me what you did to your horse, and how I may learn it."
Xanther smiled before going into the details.
* * * *
The village appeared to be nothing more than a normal village filled with peasants and plain folk doing everyday work. It was the same as hundreds of villages she had seen in Europe.
Alyssa studied the people and the buildings, looking for anything amiss. But the people were as human as any others she had seen. They dressed in simple clothing, serviceable but mostly clean. Their skin was fair, not dark like the Egyptians, but most people on this side of the country were pale of skin.
They had the same trades as she had ever known of the working class. There were farmers with many cattle and vegetables brought to market. There were tradesmen—so far Alyssa had seen a blacksmith, a tanner and a seamstress.
Nothing seemed different from normal. The buildings were simple stone cottages with thatched roofs. Any one of them could have been taken from out of the country somewhere in England.
Alyssa let her mind whisper over theirs. Just barely touching the people, eavesdropping as she rode by. Even their minds seemed normal.
The village was teeming with life but all of it stopped after passing through the gates to come into the outer walls of the castle.
The bailey had soldiers but not much else. All of the commoners were kept outside the walls. That was a little unusual. Seeing Xanther and his guards, the soldiers greeted them and moved aside to let them pass.
Once within the walls, Xanther's soldiers scattered to unload the horses and unpack.
The entrance to the castle was marked grandly. Two large double doors featured an intricately carved dragon. They seemed so lifelike they could almost jump off the door at any moment.
The doors opened before anyone could lift a finger to open them. Xanther pulled her inside. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darker room.
His hand was reassuring on hers, but something seemed off to Alyssa. It was not that she felt fear or panic, but the shadows moved. Even in the dark her senses tingled, her skin itched, her body tensed as if in readiness. At first, there was nothing. Suddenly the shadows rose to tower over Alyssa and Xanther.
Now that her eyes had adjusted she could see clearly that they had been bowing, keeping utterly still until Xanther had finished in his approach. As they rose she could see clearly now. She could make out every detail about them. The way their chocolate eyes whirled with emotion. Their dark brown scales were so dark they were almost black in color. Their wings folded neatly and compressed against their backs.
"That's not ... they are ... dragons,” Alyssa finished, feeling breathless.
Alyssa was too surprised to raise the barrier in her mind. She was assaulted by bright colors whirling with passion and emotion and two intelligences unlike any she had ever felt. Not quite human.
She felt like she had been dropped in ice water. Her mind was chaos. She felt dizzy, darkness clouded her vision. Her legs felt weak, and she felt like she was going to faint. She fought the blackness but it was quickly overtaking her. Alyssa tried to brace herself for the impact of the floor she felt moving toward her as her knees buckled.
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Chapter 9
So it was just a dream? Alyssa woke to find herself lying in a soft bed of enormous size, in an oversized bedroom, looking up at the ornate wooden canopy draped in crimson velvet. She must have fallen asleep. However, she could not remember how she got here. Maybe she fell asleep on the horse and Xanther carried her up to this bedchamber.
The dragons must have been a figment of her imagination or brought on by her exhaustion. The trouble with that was the experience had seemed too real. Every detail was still fresh and crisp in her mind. She could still see the dragons’ scales flash with their movement, the membranes of their wings in soft contrast to their thick skin. Wide eyes that echoed their emotion that she could still see in swirling colors.
It was like the colors burned an imprint on her mind. Feeling familiar to how she thought, colors that linked with emotion. Different from the minds of the Elisaid or the human minds she had touched.
The maid had explained that Xanther left Alyssa alone to bathe and dress for the night's meeting. There was a lot on the agenda. Pressing matters that had been pushed back with Prince Xanther's absence.
A bath sounded wonderful. Even with the distraction of the bath, Alyssa could not get the image of the two dragons out of her mind. That is what she saw, two dragons? Or was it her overactive imagination playing tricks on her? It could have been a play on the light and shadow combined with the movement of light. Together, the effects caused her to see shadows that merely resembled something dragon-like.
Yes, that must be it. She had simply imagined it. Her mind and body were exhausted. Now that she had the rest she needed, she could see clearly, what must have happened to her.
The maid who introduced herself as Sarah brought up buckets of hot water and filled a large tub. It wasn't the same as the bathing pools of the Elisaid, but it was warm and soothing. The pools were shared with all the women there. Cleanliness was important to the community.
It was not long before she began appreciating her daily baths there after her modesty left her. The water was always cold, but the air was always kept warm and steamy.
Orange oil and lavender scented soap had been left for Alyssa to use. She had luxuriated in the scent as she worked the soap into a thick lather. She enjoyed the way it made her muscles relax. She had not even realized how many of her muscles were in knots.
She stepped into the warm water of her bath with enthusiasm to wash away the dust of her travels and all her troubles.
A click of the door alerted her as someone entered the room. Water splashed as she turned to catch the intruder. She scanned the entryway and the room for the new presence, but she saw nothing. She heard the door shut once again but no one was in the room.
"Sarah?” she asked, not quite trusting her eyes that told her no one was in the room. Her instincts said there was someone else. Her nerves were on edge, razor sharp, waiting for whatever it was to appear.
Alyssa turned her body in the tub to face the door. Whoever it was would not surprise her again. She kept a vigil on the door, while she reached for the soap.
"It's me. Xanther."
Alyssa turned sharply toward his voice, catching his hungry stare. He had the towels in his hands. It was obvious he had no desire to leave. Alyssa fought the modest urge to cover herself. He had already seen all of her. She felt slightly embarrassed at her nudity, but she had nothing left to hide and nothing to be ashamed of.
Alyssa shivered at his nearness; it thrilled a part of her to have him here watching. Could he still be interested in her?
"How did you—I didn't see you come in."
"I know. I came to check on you."
&nbs
p; "Check on me?"
"Yes, I was worried. You fainted when you saw my guards."
"Thank you for your concern. I can't believe I fainted. I think I was mentally exhausted. I thought I saw—that is I mean to say I felt—I thought I saw two dragons."
"You did."
"I did—what?"
"You did see two dragons."
"Oh.” It wasn't a delusion.
"Would you like to meet them again? They were disappointed they didn't get to talk to you."
"No, perhaps later.” It was true. He saw the same thing. Dragons. Which caused her to question all of her other beliefs. How much else of what he said was true?
He laughed, low and sensual. He walked to the table, picking up the soap. “May I help you wash?"
Alyssa felt a tremble sweep through her body, she felt trapped between fear and desire to let him. She closed her eyes, trying to hide the way he affected her. “Why?"
"Because I want to. I want you."
"You don't even know me."
"I know enough. I know you are a complex woman. You have a kind heart, yet you are tough as nails. You are intelligent as a fox, yet at times stubborn.” He knelt by her side.
"I am not,” she protested, scowling at him. It would be too easy to give into her desires when he talked like this.
His hand dipped the bar of soap into the water before moving her hair aside and lathering her shoulders. She leaned forward, granting him full access to her stretched back. When his fingers reached her mark, he slowly traced the design, almost reverently.
"You are all that and many other things as well. You have a strong spirit, lass. I'd like to have you yield your body and your trust to me half as intensely as you refuse me. I will be patient while I court you, but I will have you."
"You can't have me.” She trembled suddenly, feeling very vulnerable. Her flesh felt weak and flaccid. She didn't like the way her body sought to betray her. The way her heart wanted to believe that, he sought her love and not just her body. She tried to convince her mind, to stop, to turn her emotions in a safer direction, like anger.
