Smolder (Clan of Dragons Book 3)

by Nancy Lee Badger

  Dressing in haste, and cursing the wet wool, Dougal ran through the shadows to where a crowd stood near a body on the ground.

  “Fiona!” She ignored him. Isobel lay on the ground beside a huge, smelly pirate.

  “Orin, can you speak with Isobel? Try to keep her from running any further. This brute nearly killed her,” Fiona said to the lad.

  With Orin and his friends between him and the man who had attacked Isobel, he stood close by as Fiona helped the lass to her feet.

  Isobel turned around and kicked the pirate in the head. He groaned, and sputtered a few salty curses. The young lads laughed, then grabbed his arms, dragging him to his feet.

  At Isobel’s side, Fiona steadied her. “Be you injured?”

  “Nay, only me pride. He caught me unawares.”

  “Do you recognize the brigand?”

  Isobel squinted at the man. “Nay, ‘tis a pirate, but none I have encountered before. Best you kill him.”

  “Nay!” Fiona cried.

  Staring at Isobel, Dougal could not believe the lass acted as bloodthirsty as a dragon. Did she assume he’d carry out her demand in front of Fiona and the human lads?

  Fiona slapped Dougal’s shoulder. “Do you plan to carry out her wishes, or mine?”

  He raised his head and looked skyward, as if praying. Walking closer to the tall fence, he motioned for the lads to bring the prisoner. Dougal pointed to the top and they pushed the man up and over the fence. He landed with a thud on the opposite side.

  Isobel gasped and Fiona smiled.

  “Isobel, I do not kill indiscriminately.”

  “I apologize, Dougal,” she answered.

  Dougal nodded at her. “Tis me nature to worship life, even smelly pirates, as long as they no longer be a threat.”

  “The villagers have killed and captured many. We had no need of that man,” Orin said.

  Isobel stubbed her toe in the dirt. “Fine. You all should return, and offer them your assistance.”

  “If you be fit,” Dougal said. He looked over the lad from head to toe. Besides a jagged scratch along his left cheek, he seemed fine. “Orin, you be well?”

  “Aye. We routed a group of pirates who ran toward a breach in the wall behind the stables. You told me to race over here, so how else can we be of help?” Orin’s smile was wide and toothy.

  “There was a battle inside the tavern.”

  “Vika! Be she in danger?”

  “Nay, lad. I believe she be birthing her babe.” Dougal tried to offer him a smile, but they both realized Vika could die trying to bring a new dragon into the world.

  “I must go to her.” He turned to his friends. “This be Dougal, a powerful warrior. Do whatever he commands.”

  They all watched Orin sprint toward the tavern. He took the steps in one jump, passing several villagers, who stood by the doors, talking. Others had gathered around the bonfire, their swords and farm tools at the ready. Still others added fuel to the huge fire. Beltane, the human’s springtime celebration, would soon fade away, but they appeared hopeful, as if the light and heat from the burning logs would cleanse their souls.

  Wary of the dangers the pirates still held for the villagers, he spoke to the lads. “Patrol the fence line in twos. Allow no stranger to enter, and call out for a warrior if you see men wearing headscarves and carrying curved blades inside the village. Their numbers be greatly reduced, but until daylight arrives, beware every shadow.”

  The lads straightened their shoulders, accepting the responsibility to protect the village. When he turned back, Fiona and Isobel had disappeared.

  “Fiona shall be the death of me.”

  When the lads standing near him laughed, Dougal growled and bared his teeth.

  They ran.

  ***

  “Wait! Come back!” Fiona shouted, She could barely keep up with Isobel. Her heart thundered, not from the pace, but from witnessing Isobel’s attack. Her instincts had kicked in, and she’d stabbed the pirate. When the knife didn’t penetrate through the attacker’s leather belt, he’d grabbed her wrist and disarmed her.

  When Isobel had slammed her fist into the blackguard’s chin, Fiona had pulled her arm away. She’d lifted the hem of her dress with her free hand, and kicked the pirate in the gut, giving Isobel the chance to roll away. The brigand was lucky she kicked him with a human foot, and not the sharp points of a cloven hoof.

  She was glad the knife had not killed him. She didn’t wish to murder a human, and she could have accidently hurt Isobel. When Dougal had called her name, she’d ignored him.

  The shock of his voice, after the pirate’s attack, was unnerving. Orin had arrived with several of his friends, so she had no need of Dougal and his dragon superiority.

  I can take care of meself.

  When Dougal had arrived, after the attack on Isobel, he had glanced longingly at Fiona. Her body had tingled, and her breasts had grown heavy. Taking several deep breaths, she had forced her body to turn away and assist Isobel to her feet. She’d needed a diversion, a chance to compose herself. Dougal was attracted to her, but he wanted a bedmate, a plaything, not someone like her. When he turned away, and walked toward the tavern, her heart broke into pieces.

  She took a deep breath. Isobel chuckled by her side, surprising her. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

  “Fiona, I see more than you think. Why do you deny yourself?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Dougal. He wants you.”

  “Nay. He wants any female. I want nothing to do with him. We must return to the tavern where ‘tis safe.”

  “Nay! I must find the pirate with the white headscarf! He has me belongings.” Isobel muttered something under her breath, in a language Fiona didn’t understand.

  “We should talk with the villagers gathered in the tavern. Warriors guard the village perimeter. Others be repairing a breach in the fence.” Fiona wanted to keep her new friend safe. Isobel was upset, and searched for a man who could kill them both with one swing of his saber.

  “I want what he took, returned, but I have nothing with which to exchange.” Isobel kicked the fence, and ran into the night.

  Fiona suddenly remembered the necklace. “Isobel!” she cried, bringing the lass to a stop.

  “Fiona, return to the tavern. I shall not be the reason someone so special be killed.”

  “Special?”

  “I’ve never seen a white deer before. Of course, I rarely walk the land. I prefer the ocean.”

  Fiona shook her head, unable to comprehend her meaning. Isobel assumed she was the white doe, since she had taken the dress, but she rarely walked the land?

  Fiona pulled the trinket from her bodice, handing it to the wide-eyes lass. “Will this help in your negotiations with the pirate, should you meet again?”

  “The necklace! How? Where?”

  “Hush, ‘tis enough that I can give it to you. Use it wisely, and take me knife. Stay safe, aye?”

  Isobel nodded, hugged her, and ran into the darkness. Fiona was happy the young lass’s anger turned to hope. She should follow her, but she had no urge to meet another pirate, especially the one who wore the white headscarf.

  Shivers ran down her skin, and she crossed her arms around her waist. When the heat of another body came closer, she raised her hem, preparing to run. She’d given her only weapon to Isobel.

  “Fiona, love, do not go. Not yet.”

  “Dougal,” she whispered. Her stomach flipped, and she pressed a shaky palm to her abdomen. “Isobel be gone. Leave her be. She has a mission, and be armed. I wish to inquire about Vika and her babe. Besides, we have nothing to discuss.”

  “Not true. You left me without so much as a good-bye.”

  “Liar!” She pointed a finger at his nose. “You rutted with me like the ornery, self-centered creature you be, and left me to gather the magical water.”

  “Aye, the mission. But, the next time I saw you, anger rolled off your shoulders like storm clouds over the Black Cuill
in Hills. How could our lovemaking turn sour so fast?”

  She struggled in his arms, only then realizing he’d pulled her into them. When she pushed her good hand against his chest, he didn’t move. He was like a granite wall, and his gaze smoldered like banked coals.

  “You’ve no idea what you said, when you shuddered your release, and spent yourself deep inside me?” Her whispered words brought his head closer, until he must have understood what she’d said.

  “Nay, I recall the pleasure of me release, and your scream, but…”

  “You cried out a name.”

  His gaze softened, and his eyebrows rose in concern. “What name did I…”

  He sounded like he didn’t wish to know, but the truth would explain to him how much he’d broken her heart. “Cliona. You said Cliona.”

  His arms dropped to his sides, releasing her. When he said nothing in response, she turned away, wiping a tear from her human cheek. Tears be stupid!

  As she walked away from the dragon she’d come to love with all her heart, she looked back on her dismal existence. With no home, no babe, no mate, and no future in her natural state, what should she do next? Should she find a human to settle down with? Toal MacMorgan seemed interested. Should she work as a tavern wench until she was too old to hold up a tankard, or find a cave free of dragons, and spend her years alone?

  I must stop feeling sorry for me miserable life.

  Until the village was safe from pirate attacks, and Vika delivered her babe, her place was in the tavern.

  Before she reached the next torch, and walked out of the shadows by the fence, Dougal swept her into his embrace a second time. He turned her to face him, again, but instead of lecturing her, he lowered his mouth, and captured her lips.

  The heat of his mouth and the delicious taste of his tongue made her body tremble. Why was she allowing him to affect her? He was warm, and held her gently, but why did she not push him away?

  When his tongue probed deeply into her mouth, tasting every crevice, her reluctance faded. She leaned into him, her breasts tingling as they flattened against the hard planes of his chest. He wore no shirt, only the plaide. The wool was damp, for some reason. As she tangled her fingers in his long silky hair, it, too, was dripping.

  She pulled her mouth away. “Did you go swimming without me?” she asked.

  His eyes widened, as if he recalled their swim in the fairy pool, and how they loved each other beneath the waterfall.

  “Nay, but I did suffer an impromptu bath.” He returned his mouth to hers, capturing her lips against his. His arms tightened around her, leaving no space between them. The long, hard evidence of his arousal nestled against her stomach. He pulled back, and gazed down at her with such love, she swallowed. So enthralled by the look he shared, she barely felt him jump high into the air.

  They landed on the opposite side of the fence. Leaning down, he gathered her up like a newborn bairn, and carried her in his arms into the pitch-black forest. Beneath leaves sprouting among the oaks and rowan trees, he loosened her braid, and slipped off her dress. Cool air tickled her bare human skin, and she pressed against Dougal.

  “Lass, I want you like I’ve wanted no one else. If I spoke of me former mate, ‘twas me guilt, asking for her forgiveness. She has haunted me since her death.”

  She stepped away. “Truly? ‘Tis an omen, and I fear we should not continue. Others need us. Please, we must return.” As she said the words, her heart broke. When a chilly breeze slammed against her back, and threw her against Dougal, he gasped in surprise.

  “Dougal used to kiss me like that, though not with human lips. I fear I have been replaced with his one true love. Take him into your heart, and make him happy.”

  Settling her hands on his waist, Fiona gasped again. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what, love? ‘Tis the breeze through the trees.”

  “Nay! ‘Twas a lass, telling me I have replaced her in your heart!”

  Dougal stepped back, and glanced at the heavens. “Cliona?”

  “Aye, lover. You have all you need. Go forth and rebuild your clan of dragons. ‘Tis meant to be.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Dougal hoped Cliona’s words proved true. ‘Tis meant to be, she’d said, and Fiona had gazed up at him in shock. The moon slipped from behind a cloud and its silver beams penetrated the thin mantle of leaves, making Fiona’s light brown eyes sparkle like silver.

  “Cliona was part of me life for a short time. We enjoyed each other, but she disappeared for weeks at a time, finding more pleasure with others. I fear there was a good chance the bairn she carried was not mine.”

  “I be so very sorry. You deserve more,” she said, and untied the leather strip at his waist.

  I deserve you, he thought.

  Dougal stood perfectly still, as Fiona cupped his cheek, and pressed a shy kiss against his mouth. Willing his body to wait, and to give her full rein, as she silently slipped her fingers to his shoulder. As she kissed the middle of his chest, her fingers loosened his plaide, allowing the yards of wool to fall to the ground.

  His cock, once pressed against the scratchy material, was finally free. When she stepped back, his erection jutted out, as if reaching for her. As she stared at his groin, she toed off her shoes and stockings, and helped him out of his boots.

  Finally naked beneath the moon, he gazed at her full breasts and large doe-like eyes. Her loose hair tossed in the breeze, surrounding him with her scent. He swallowed.

  She stepped closer, and her touch froze him where he stood. Her fingers roamed over his shoulders, tentatively, at first. She grew bolder, until her uninjured hand stroked his hard length. She leaned up on her toes and kissed him again, but the kiss was daring, and she pushed her tongue inside his mouth.

  This was bliss. This was the answer he had searched for, these centuries past. He sensed the love and compassion she held in her heart for him, and it nearly brought him to his knees. He knelt to no one, but suddenly found himself on the ground, on those knees, smoothing out his plaide to offer her a soft bed.

  As she stood before him, waiting for him to finish, he settled his cheek against the warm flesh of her stomach. His fingers cupped her buttocks, and pulled her close. She threaded her fingers through his hair, whispering words of love, and passion. He kissed her stomach, and lowered his mouth, until he kissed the curls covering her feminine place. Her moans stirred him to continue, and he slipped his forked-tongue inside her channel.

  She gasped, and pulled his hair, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. She tasted like the sweetest nectar and smelled like the heather on the moor. He sensed how her blood quickened, and her breath caught.

  “Dougal, you mustn’t…”

  He chuckled, and tickled the tiny nub at the entrance of her feminine folds with his tongue while he thrust two fingers deep inside her. She was wet and warm and ready for him.

  Pulling his face away, she groaned her displeasure. “Love, nothing we do together be wrong. Let me love you, and lose ourselves in pleasure. For a little while, aye?”

  He pulled her down to the makeshift bed, rolled on top of her shivering flesh, and entered her with one, deep thrust. She cried out in surprise, and raised her legs, circling his waist. Face-to-face was a new concept for a dragon or a stag, and the intimacy heightened his desire to make her reach her peak. Her keening cry made him thrust harder and faster, and she arched her back.

  Watching as she broke apart, while painted silver by the moon, was extremely erotic. As her inner muscles gripped his cock, her entire body trembled. It only took several more deep thrusts, until roaring his own release, and he fell to earth beside her.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  Did she realize his dragon ears heard her declaration? Did it matter? She was his, and his future looked brighter than ever. What he felt for the shifter was deeper and stronger than what he’d felt for anyone else.

  “Not even me brothers.”

  “What was that you said?” sh
e asked. He laughed, nipping her nose, and gathered her in his arms. He cuddled her against his chest, wanting to keep her warm and protected. Would she believe him if he told her how he felt?

  A scream bought them both to their feet.

  “Vika!”

  Dressing in the dark, he helped Fiona tie the laces of her bodice, and plaited her hair by moonlight. When she kissed his cheek in thanks, his cock hardened.

  “We must hurry,” she said.

  Grumbling, they finished and ran to the fence. Listening, to make sure the area beyond was clear, they each jumped over the high wall. It was still strange to envision the beautiful brown-haired lass as an otherworldly like him.

  Just the thought of bedding her, deep inside his cave, in thick furs beside a smoldering fire, gave him the energy to run toward the tavern. It took a little longer on human legs, and he stopped to talk with some of the villagers beside the bonfire. Fiona made her excuses to the men, and climbed to the porch. Before disappearing inside, she glanced back over her shoulder, and shot him a smile.

  His heart lurched.

  He loved her, but why had he not admitted it before now? Why had he not told her his true feelings? He’d apologized for mentioning Cliona in a fit of passion, and explained that it would take time to remove his dead mate from his thoughts, but he promised to try.

  Fiona had responded to their quick bout of lovemaking with a declaration of love. Those words made him float without wings, until Vika’s scream reached his ears, again.

  If he kept thinking of Fiona, and how her quivering flesh and sweet honey-pot melted against his tongue, and how she had exploded the moment he’d filled her with his cock, he might forget that Vika and his family needed him. Wynn stepped outside, and Dougal motioned for him to join him with an update.

  “What news have you? Fiona and I heard Vika cry out in pain. How does she fare?”

  “I just came from her bedchamber. Evan and the healer be with her. Her time grows near.”

  Dougal should have been here, guarding the lass and their next generation. When the image of silvery flesh and gossamer hair beneath his naked body filled his mind, he gasped.