The Dragon's Lover

by Samantha Sabian

  “Raine!”

  Raine looked upward. Feyden had raced down the steps after her. He had her bow in his hands. With a great heave, he threw the weapon end-over-end and she concentrated with all her ability to catch the bow in its center. To do otherwise would amputate her hand. Ragnar was rearing back, preparing to blast her with an inferno, and she snapped the bow outward into place.

  The dragon let loose a blast of fire at her but Idonea sent a simultaneous blast of ice towards the funnel of flame. The end result was a wave of warm water and steam that drenched Raine, nearly knocking her to the ground. It was a decidedly better outcome than being burned alive, and she shook the water from her hair with a toss of her head.

  “Feyden!” she yelled, holding out her arm. The Scinterian markings on her forearms seemed to glow with the exertion of battle.

  But Feyden was already notching an arrow. Raine had the bow but did not have any ammunition. He let the arrow fly, praying that Raine's supernatural skill would not fail at this point. The black dragon slammed his tail to the ground, causing Raine to stumble and nearly fall again. But she caught the arrow in mid-flight, flipped it by spinning it in the palm of her hand, notched it, and drew her bow string to its full length. She let it fly.

  Time seemed to stop as the arrow flew through the air. Bodies fell in slow motion, blood spattered at an infinitesimal rate, the dragon swung his wing to block the incoming missile. The arrow pierced the thick membrane of his wing but it was fired with such force it did not even slow down as it passed through. It found its mark, piercing the right eye of the dragon, then burying itself in the dragon's brain.

  The scream was deafening. Raine fell to the ground, covering her ears. The Hyr'rok'kin began fleeing in terror, scrambling over one another to get back through the doors that were now slowly but surely closing. The black dragon thrashed about in death throes, destroying everything in a large radius. Raine stood, a little unsteadily, as she was joined by her companions.

  “Can I chase them now?” Lorifal asked with grim humor, watching the Hyr'rok'kin flee.

  “Yes,” Raine said, taking the sword that Elyara had retrieved for her. “We can chase them now.”

  And so they did, the small band of four humans, two elves, one dwarf, and one Scinterian Arlanian, accompanied by one of the most powerful ancients of all time, Talan'alaith'illaria. They chased the Hyr'rok'kin army, hell hounds, and Marrow Shards back through the gates of the Underworld. And as Weynild was finally able to shut the doors completely, anything that had the misfortune to be left in the great courtyard was slaughtered. When the last one fell, a cheer went up amongst the small band. Lorifal quite forgot himself and hugged Feyden. The reserved elf took it in stride, however, and patted his comrade on the back affectionately. Elyara and Dagna kissed. Gunnar and Bristol grasped forearms and pounded one another on the chest. Then all eyes turned to Raine, who stood slightly apart from Idonea. Both women stared up at the immense red dragon that was gliding in to a graceful landing before them.

  The dragon's feet touched down and it disappeared into a blinding flash of yellow light. From the light emerged a stunningly beautiful older woman with silver hair and golden eyes. She moved with an elegant saunter that was reminiscent of the dark-haired beauty she approached. She brushed her fingers lightly over Idonea's cheek as she passed, a gentle acknowledgment.

  “Not bad, my dear,” Weynild said in her low, sensual voice.

  “Thank you mother,” Idonea murmured with feigned obedience, pleased despite herself.

  The silver-haired woman approached Raine, whose sudden longing was like something alive. She drank in the sight of her lover, every inch of her supple curves, the grace of her features, the depths of her golden eyes flecked with red. Weynild pulled her to her, crushing her in her embrace, kissing her long and deeply. Raine could not get close enough to her, even with every inch of her body pressed to her.

  The kiss lengthened as the others gaped, and the utter sensuality of the two together was stunning.

  “By my Ancestors,” Lorifal murmured, and Dagna turned in question to Idonea.

  Idonea watched the kiss extend. “Yes, yes,” she said, “My mother is a dragon and Raine is the dragon's lover.”

  Dagna's mouth dropped open further, if that was possible. “Your mother is Raine's lover?”

  Idonea looked at her in exasperation. “Out of everything I just said, that is what you find odd?”

  “Well, no,” Dagna said, embarrassed, but then could not help herself. “But really, your mother and Raine?”

  The kiss finally ended but the two did not separate. Raine knew she would have to part with her lover a while longer.

  “There are a few loose ends I need to tie up,” Weynild said. Raine looked askance at her, then quickly shook her head.

  “Never mind, I don't want to know. I would not abandon my friends at this point, anyway. I must get them safely back through the Empty Land.”

  “I knew your sense of honor would require that. I can accompany you, if you wish, but then I would have to part from you again.”

  Raine shook her head even more vehemently. “No, finish your business, and when I see you again, I will not allow your parting for a decade.”

  Weynild raised an eyebrow. “Only a decade my love? I am not letting you go again for at least a century.”

  They kissed again, this one as prolonged as the previous, and Weynild quickly transformed, fearful that if she stayed with her lover a moment longer she would not be able to leave.

  CHAPTER 15

  The small band was surrounded by wood elves some distance out from their camp, but this time it was a far more cordial greeting. They were welcomed by Y'arren's people, who had been expecting them. Rumors had rippled across the land of the success of this group of heroes, and the sudden disappearance of the Hyr'rok'kin gave confirmation to those tales. Y'arren herself had meditated greatly on their acts, pleased with the outcome. And when her beloved Arlanian strolled into the camp, accompanied by her cocky fellows, she went out to embrace each of them personally.

  Raine smiled. They had made far better time on their return then their exodus. They had dispatched a few Hyr'rok'kin stragglers, but had met little resistance. The imperial army had arrived, albeit a bit late, but their presence was welcomed throughout the holds in the villages and towns. The companions had agreed to travel to Y'arren's people together, where they would disband.

  As Y'arren stood before the altar where incense burned, offering thanks, she was unsurprised at the shadow that passed over them. She turned upward at the sound of the great leathery wings as the magnificent dragon glided into the camp clearing, then dissolved into a flash of yellow light. Weynild emerged from the light, her red armor glistening, her golden eyes gleaming. Y'arren and all her people went to their knees, and Raine's band slowly followed suit. Even Idonea deigned to offer a deep bow to her mother. Only Raine stood tall as her lover approached.

  “And will you not bow before me?” Weynild asked, amused.

  “I gladly kneel before you,” Raine replied, “but you know what that will lead to.”

  Weynild laughed and took her lover into her arms, kissing her hungrily. She broke the embrace, however, simply because she did not wish to tarry long.

  “Talan'alaith'illaria,” Y'arren said respectfully, returning to her feet, but again bowing deeply. “You honor us with your presence.”

  “Respect to your people,” Weynild said in Elvish, “wisdom and long life.” Y'arren again bowed, accepting the blessing.

  “To you as well,” she replied.

  Raine turned to her companions, individuals a few months prior who had been strangers to her, reluctantly adding her to their quest. She disliked goodbyes intensely, so determined to make the parting quick. She approached Lorifal and placed her hands on his shoulders.

  “You are welcome for a drink at my hearth any time.”

  Lorifal beamed. “I will take you up on that offer.”

  Raine mo
ved to Dagna and Elyara, who had become inseparable. “I wish you two the greatest happiness.”

  Both women gave Raine a quick hug, and she moved to Gunnar and Bristol.

  “You do the sons of men proud,” she said. She addressed both of them, but looked to Bristol at her next sentence. “You fought bravely.”

  Bristol blushed as red as his hair, and Gunnar beamed. Both clasped forearms with her in the traditional parting.

  Raine moved to Feyden, and they stood eye-to-eye, saying nothing. Finally, Feyden just smiled and Raine laughed, clasping his shoulder. “Until next time, my friend.”

  At last, Raine came to Idonea, feeling the need to say little. “And I'm sure I'll be seeing you again, since you're my step-daughter, or something like that.”

  Idonea rolled her eyes. “Oh dear god,” she said, but there was no bite to her words and a smile played about her lips.

  Raine last came before Y'arren. “Warmth in winter and cool in summer, my friend.”

  “You will return in the spring?” Y'arren asked.

  “Of course,” Raine said, nodding respectfully.

  Weynild had watched patiently but her patience was at an end. She transformed in a brilliant flash of light and her immense form draped off the platform, causing those too near to step back. The sinewy neck weaved back and forth as she stretched, preparing for flight. She leaned down as Raine approached.

  “That is always so arousing,” Raine murmured to her.

  “Do not push me, girl,” the dragon rumbled. “Or I will transform again and put you on your back on this altar.”

  “I'm sure that would give Y’arren’s people a show they would not soon forget,” Raine said, pulling herself onto Weynild's neck. She stroked the supple skin beneath her. “I wonder how far I will make it this time.”

  The dragon laughed and leaped toward the sky. The monstrous beast climbed skyward, lifted by strong wings and a favorable breeze, and the two soon disappeared over the horizon.

  Weynild glided into the skylight opening of her mountain keep. Raine had maintained her composure on the flight, but only barely. She could not get her clothing off fast enough and Weynild, as soon as she had transformed, assisted by shredding her remaining garments with nails that retained talon-like sharpness.

  Raine's fear was that she would climax immediately. She had been away from her love for so long and was so inflamed she thought she might explode. But Weynild's lips were so skillful, her hands so attuned to Raine's body, she found ways to heighten Raine's pleasure even more. They were locked together, moving as one, as if they had been fused into a single whole. Something Raine feared would last minutes instead lasted hours in a reunion far more epic than even Dagna’s vivid imagination could envision. In the end, they were only one, as joined by the intense sexual act as they had been by the ceremony of binding. Indeed, it seemed that one was merely the physical manifestation of the other.

  Raine lay on her stomach with her head beneath Weynild's breasts. Weynild traced the blue and gold markings that stood out in bold relief on her back, and Raine sighed with pleasure at the touch. She would not, however, keep her thoughts to herself.

  “This isn't over, is it?”

  Weynild continued to trace the intricate pattern. “No, my love. I fear it is just beginning.”

  The admission did not surprise her, and she thought back to the black dragon’s words, his inadvertent confession. “So who is powerful enough to give orders to an ancient dragon?”

  “The same one who has the most to gain by opening the gate to the underworld.”

  Raine lifted her head slightly and looked up at her.

  “Hel.”

  A cold chill passed over Raine as she suddenly saw the face in the midst of the Membrane, the same face that was on the gates themselves. She thought of Ragnar's words, that she was to be “escorted” into the underworld. Weynild could feel the change in temperature of her lover's skin, and pulled her close. She turned her head and blew out a great gust of fire, lighting the wood in the pit next to them. The heat was wonderfully warm on Raine's skin, and she relaxed in her lover's embrace as Weynild continued.

  “I knew you would become the object of her desire once she saw you,” Weynild said, eliminating any doubt in Raine's mind regarding the meaning of the black dragon's words, “but now that she knows you are mine, you will become the object of her obsession.”

  Raine propped herself up on an elbow. “Why do I have the feeling there is some history between the two of you?”

  Weynild's golden eyes gleamed in the firelight. “Because you have such remarkable instincts, my love.”

  Raine could not generate even mild annoyance at her lover's withholding of information. She knew that Weynild had her reasons and she would become privy to them when the time was right. She rolled back on top of the silver-haired beauty in playful domination, an action so far removed from reality it made Weynild smile.

  “Feeling the need to be on top, are we?”

  “Yes,” Raine said.

  And so the dragon let her.