Smolder (Clan of Dragons Book 3)

by Nancy Lee Badger

  But, how did it…

  Splashing water returned his gaze to the pool of clear water. The female coughed and sputtered, sweeping her long brown hair from her face. She tipped her head back and swept her fingers through her hair, and her action caused her breasts to rise up out of the clear water. Her nipples had turned into hard, dark pebbles, and pointed in his direction, as if pleading for his mouth to suckle them.

  “Cliona?” he whispered, but Cliona was dead. He had witnessed her death by a hunter’s arrow. When this female opened her eyes, and a broad smile filled her face, he knew it wasn’t his mate. This was Fiona. She smiled like an angel, and laughed at him.

  “I do not see what be funny, lass. Have I green leaves in me teeth?” His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t taken a moment to snack while injured, and following the white doe.

  “I be not laughing at you, Dougal. I be happy to see you on your feet. When you collapsed, you scared me, and I wasn’t sure it was you. Join me in the water, and give that nasty wound a chance to heal.”

  Pushing back, her face was suddenly in shadow, and he sensed sunlight bathing him in its warmth. How could it already be morning? Even as he stepped into the cool water, he wondered what she meant. For him to heal, he would have to change into his natural form. Unfortunately, the loss of blood had made him weak. He didn’t think he had the wherewithal to shift into a dragon, so he slipped carefully into the pool.

  He would swim to her, and they would talk. Cleansing the blood from his arm couldn’t hurt, and maybe she’d kiss him. His body tightened at the thought of tasting her mouth, and pressing her naked skin to his, again.

  His shoulder ached, his arm hung uselessly, and he found himself concentrating simply to keep his head above water. She wasn’t Cliona, but the resemblance was uncanny, and her smile, so unlike Cliona’s sneer, was attractive. His cock came alive, hardening and lengthening, as he slowly swam closer, despite the coolness of the pool. He slipped past her, and grabbed hold of a rock protruding from the side of the pool.

  “Fiona? What happened?”

  She swam closer, and cupped his cheek as she trod water. “You saved me life, and I saved yours. Thank you, and you be welcome.”

  “Speaking words I should be saying? Please, lass, let me look at you. Me arm be useless, or I would wrap it around you and pull you close. Another time, perhaps.”

  When she dropped her hand, and swam backward, he sensed he’d said too much. He probably frightened her, since Toal and Gow had treated her like a sexual object. He sighed, and lowered his head until water closed over him. A slight rumble assured him a familiar waterfall filled the pool. He opened his eyes, astonished at how clear the water was. A naked Fiona, not ten feet away, stared back at him.

  Her breasts were pale globes, and the small triangle of brown hair at the apex of her thighs drew him closer. As soon as he let go of the rock wall, he sank to the bottom of the pool. Her eyes widened in alarm, and she swam closer, pulling him to the surface.

  Once at the surface, he gasped for air, and shook water from his eyes. Her arm was under his uninjured shoulder, and she swam back to the side, leading him along. She lifted his hand until he grasped the rocks, but she didn’t leave him. She was quiet, the concern for his well-being etched in the worry lines along her forehead.

  The sensation of having someone care for him was an odd feeling. He was the older brother. It was always his job to care for the members of his clan, and see to their future. He should be in the village, watching over his brothers, their mates, and even Orin and the villagers. His concern about a possible threat of a pirate attack had faded, once he had followed Fiona through the woods.

  Was he simply curious, and wanting to know for sure that she was an otherworldly? Was he hoping she might replace Cliona in his life? Did he want Fiona because she just happened to look like his dead mate?

  And what the hell be I doing in a fairy pool?

  The situation was ludicrous. He had nearly died, was too weak to shift into a dragon, nor could he take advantage of the soft, naked female within reach.

  “Dougal, how do you feel?”

  He chuckled. “Like a newborn babe. The weakness be a concern, but I must return to the village. I saw pirates, and I believe the one you stomped was part of their faction. You did not kill him, and he might return to his men. I overheard them plotting to attack.”

  “You need to heal. You shall be no help to anyone until you do.”

  How could she understand? “I be too weak to shift, and heal. I must try…” His fingers slipped, and she grabbed him around the waist. He tried to help by treading water, but their legs tangled, and he nearly pulled her under.

  “Dougal! Listen to me! These waters have healing properties. You must believe in the magic for it to work. Please?”

  “Magic? Be you daft?” Even as the words tripped over his tongue, he thought about Vika and her medicinal herbs. She swore they kept her healthy, and he had witnessed her apply a healing poultice to her brother’s various injuries. If bits of crushed flower buds and weeds could heal injuries, why not the clean, clear water of a fairy pool?

  “Fine, lass, but how will I know the damage be healed enough for me to shift? I cannot return to the village on foot, or naked.”

  “I like you naked,” she whispered.

  Speechless, all he could do was stare at her.

  “The body you chose complements your stag. Why do you look like your brothers? Be you all from the same herd?”

  Herd? She thought he was a stag-shifter? “I fear the truth will frighten you, lass.”

  “I be stronger than you think.” She kissed his cheek, then dove beneath the surface. The clarity of the pool allowed him to follow her with his eyes. She swam beneath a stone arch, and surfaced in another pool.

  He wanted her, and was surprised she did not mention his obvious erection. She’d seen it, but he wasn’t sure if now was the time to pursue her. He flexed his injured shoulder beneath the water’s surface, and realized the numbness had subsided, and the pain had lessened. Rolling the shoulder, he grimaced, but he wondered if he could swim.

  If I can swim, I can follow her.

  He let go of the rock, and sank. Kicking his feet, he used his good arm and hand to swim beneath the surface. He tried the other arm, and was pleased to see that the appendage worked. There was residual numbness, but he had healed enough to follow her.

  He dove deep, crossed under the arch, and surfaced in the other pool, close to the patter of a waterfall. Fiona’s brows rose, her smile giving him all the invitation he needed. She was suddenly in his arms, and her soft curves and long legs tangled with his hard muscles and longer legs. “I feel better, lass.”

  “I can feel that be so. I be glad, but you should release me.”

  He stared at her, and witnessed the pale cheeks, and frown of her lips. “I beg your pardon. I was happy the water seemed to be helping. Your beauty drew me like a moth to flame. I forgot meself.”

  What was he doing? This was not him. He was a dragon, a warrior for their clan, a beast who yearned for her, and had searched for the white doe for months, but he was acting like a lovesick fool. No mere shifter would ever bring him to his knees.

  He released her, and headed slowly toward the thundering waterfall, the same one he’d taken Vika and Orin to, several days earlier.

  Once beneath the tumbling water, he let the cascade crash over his head and shoulders. The powerful current massaged his muscles, and the clear water soothed his wound. He ought to shift into his dragon, and repair his shoulder quickly, and hoped the tales of fairy enchantment rang true.

  Attempting to snuff out the hurt her words had birthed, and how he’d acted, Dougal would give the healing waters no more than mere minutes, and then return to the bank. He’d shift into his dragon, heal completely, and fly back to the village. She could make her own way back. By foot or by hoof, he cared not.

  A sound grabbed his attention, and he peered through the falling water to the led
ge at the side of the pool, near where he’d shifted. Fiona was in the water where he’d left her, but a huge red stag stood at the edge, near her.

  Too near.

  How odd, he thought. Herds kept to the north during early spring, but the huge stag stood glaring down at Fiona.

  “I see you be playing at being human, the same as our little friend, Cliona. ‘Tis this what you learned from her? I have searched far and wide for you.”

  “Whatever for? You enjoyed mating with Cliona, so why be you here? You degraded me in front of our herd, and called me names. Your insensitivity forced me to leave all I knew behind. What do you want, Grady?”

  Grady? Another shifter? He had mated with Cliona?

  “I want to mount you. You shall not say ‘nay’ again. Shift back into your natural state, and ease me longings.” The stag pawed the ground, and pebbles fell into the pool, clouding the water near the bank.

  Burning with hatred for a creature who dallied with his former mate, and who forced his baser needs on Fiona, Dougal sensed his raging body erupting. As he swam toward the bank, he started to shift.

  Fiona shrieked with alarm. For him, or the interloper?

  The stag backed up, as Dougal’s feet morphed into hooves, his bones cracked, and skin transformed into thick, red fur. His black hair disappeared, and antlers erupted on his head. He jumped onto the bank even as the brilliant shock of light faded, and without giving in to the euphoria of the shift, he planted those antlers into the chest of the stag she called Grady.

  The beast bellowed, backed up, and lurched free. He lowered his head, and attacked. His rack was impressive, but Dougal had hatred and the unnerving sense of jealousy fueling his aggression.

  “Please! Stop!”

  He barely registered Fiona’s plea, because the beast’s antlers slammed into his. They fought with shoulder muscles straining, and fur shredding, as the sharp points scraped along their necks. He had no idea who he fought, but his obstinate tone, and obvious lusting for Dougal’s mate would not continue.

  Mate?

  Fiona was a shifter, and they had barely kissed, but the thought of this beast mauling her, mounting her, and crushing her with callous words, fed his anger. Within moments, Grady staggered out of reach. Dougal gulped for breath while he glared at the bleeding beast. With his legs spread, and his antlers tilted toward the other stag’s neck, he waited for the right moment to strike a fatal blow.

  When Fiona’s wet, human arms encircled his neck, his anger abated, but he didn’t let his gaze drift from the other stag.

  “Leave him be, Dougal. He will never touch me again. Cliona taught me I have value, and that I be in control of me own destiny.”

  Startled by her words, and her reference to Cliona, he raised his head, and nodded. Grady’s labored breathing, and the way he bled from a series of punctures along his chest and forelegs, meant Dougal had defeated the stag. He turned his body enough to keep Fiona safe, should Grady surprise them with a burst of rage, but the stag turned away, and staggered from the glen.

  Fiona relaxed into his side, and scratched him behind the ear. Closing his eyes at her soothing touch, he took stock of his condition. His shoulder wound had closed with barely a twinge. Grady’s antlers had grazed the side of his neck, but never punctured his fur-covered skin. The bastard never had a chance to rear up to flail his hooves, for which he was thankful.

  His rage at the beast subsided, and he sniffed the air. Fiona’s female scent was irresistible, and he pranced away from her side, reared up, and shifted. Light, and the euphoria, pulsed through him like the most potent whisky the village tavern had served. He was alive, and had conquered another pursuer of Fiona’s sweetness. He had defeated the enemy. He wanted to take full advantage, but some stray thought made him pause.

  To the winner, come the spoils, but will she have me?

  With the shift completed, he fisted his hands, hanging them at his sides. He straightened his human spine, and left his hair blowing in the breeze. Without his stag’s thick hide, his skin chilled as he watched her gaze lower to where his human erection pointed directly at her.

  “Dougal? You once asked me about Cliona. Though I have taken her image, I be not her. She be brave, and strong, where I be wary and still learning how to keep me wits about me, as I travel new lands. She be the best of any I have come to know. Do you understand this? I will not be used as a substitute for me dear friend.”

  Why did she speak of Cliona in the present tense? She acted as if she had no idea she’d died many months ago. She mentioned she was Cliona’s friend, and the truth of her words struck him, but they would discuss Cliona later. “You be not she. You be the creature I have searched many months to find, with little success.”

  “Oh? If I knew you were looking for me, I would not have tarried far.”

  Gods above! She was teasing him, and the need to cradle her in his arms, and drive his cock inside her, was too strong to resist. “Fiona, I want you, in whatever form you prefer, but I must return to the village.”

  She stepped backward, turned, and dove into the pool. Was that a cheeky smile on her lips? Was she offering herself? Dougal was unused to games. Whenever Cliona wanted to copulate, she made it clear with words, not puzzling glances.

  Too curious, and worried about missing out on an opportunity, Dougal dove into the pool in search of a beautiful otherworldly that had rocked his world sideways.

  No more words.

  CHAPTER 13

  Dougal’s words tingled down her human spine, while her belly clenched in anticipation of his touch. He wanted her! Not Cliona, who he used to love. He’d said he and Cliona had started a life together, but why would she show up at their herd? Why didn’t she stay with Dougal and his herd? He was obviously unused to his human form, but he was a shifter. He said he’d searched for her, not Cliona, but had he only wished to learn more about an aberration?

  Grady insisted she was not worthy of staying with their herd, yet he’d followed her? Mating with someone who detested her was not acceptable. Dougal was different. She read the longing in his eyes, yet when she thought she spied flames instead of blue irises, she knew she should advance with caution. Fiona was sure he was more than a red stag, and was the dragon she’d spied with Vika and Orin. However, she worried he would use her, and leave her lonely. Besides, could she satisfy him enough to keep him from returning to Cliona, whenever the doe decided to show herself?

  Two strong hands clasped her hips, and pulled her backward. She kicked, frantic to reach the surface. He pushed her upward, and they broke the surface of the pool. Fiona sucked in air, and clawed at his fingers.

  “I have you, lass. We need to talk.”

  “Why? You want me, true? I be startled, ‘tis all. If I think about what we will do next, I might change me mind.”

  Dougal spun her until they faced each other, treading water, and said, “How can I help you decide?”

  His words, steeped in seductive tones, made her yearn for him to shut up and kiss her.

  “As you wish,” he said, and captured her lips beneath his.

  Had she spoken aloud? Startled by the warmth of his lips, while the cool breeze tugged at her damp hair, she melted into him. Her breasts clung to his chest, and the small dark curls tickled her human nipples. As they slowly sank beneath the surface of the fairy pool, she devoured his mouth. The gentle current spun them in a lazy circle, as if they floated on air. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and her fingers tangled in his hair, while craving a closeness she did not understand.

  He kicked, pushing them up to the surface before releasing her mouth. She groaned with displeasure, and he chuckled.

  “Soon, lass. The best be yet to come.”

  His hard length, a human cock, she presumed, pressed against her belly, and she sensed where this was heading.

  Well, I think I know.

  Making love in human form was new to her, and she prayed to whatever deity would listen, that Dougal was an expert.


  ***

  Dougal had no idea what to do next. Well, he understood the rudimentary physical way creatures procreated, but he wasn’t a human. He was a mighty dragon, but the lass in his arms was not. She was beautiful, warm, and delicious. He wanted to join their bodies and thrust until she screamed with pleasure.

  Thrust? This made sense, yet with a still slightly numb arm, and no solid earth beneath his feet, he could barely keep their heads above water. “Follow me.”

  Her lovely eyebrows rose, but she said not a word. He hated to let her go, but finding a place to get closer to her was urgent. He swam toward the waterfall, then turned and tread water.

  “Do you plan to slip behind the falls?” she asked.

  “Do you know what be behind the curtain of water?” Dougal asked.

  She tilted her head. “Do you recognize this place? You came here with others, recently.”

  “Aye, ‘tis the pool I brought Orin and Vika to, but…”

  She patted his cheek as she tread water in front of him. The falls thundered nearby, the bubbles forming a barrier around their bodies, keeping the sight of her nipples hidden. “I saw you. What an odd trio you made, that day. You took me breath away.”

  Dougal stared and he felt his mouth drop open. She knows. “Why did you say nothing, once we met at the village?”

  “I was afraid of you.”

  “Afraid? Of me?”

  She smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, turned, and swam beneath the falls. Was she still afraid? Not when she kissed him like that. Those were not the kisses of a lass fearful of a predator. He had changed her mind, somehow, which meant she would not turn his lovemaking away.

  Taking a deep breath, he dove beneath the falls.

  When he surfaced, she was sitting on a rock ledge. The air was warm, but the ledge was cold, and she shivered. Kicking at the water, he pushed up until he sat beside her. He brushed his dripping locks out of his eyes, leaned over, and nipped her shoulder. When she sighed, and straddled his lap and faced him, he smiled.

  Fiona was warm, wet, and right where he needed her, pressing his sex against her human female’s slick folds. The position was different than how both dragons and deer copulated, but with her sitting facing him, the intimacy was deeper. His good arm rose, and he cupped the back of her neck.