They took their time shampooing my hair several times and bathing me with soap, smelling of rose and mint. They wrapped me in a robe and guided me behind a rock formation that served as a private dressing area. Shocked to find the area raised above the cavern floor, tiled in red and decorated with a white, fluffy carpet, I stood there until one of them nudged me up to the platform.
One of them urged me to sit on a pedestal with a smile. I did. She was the softer of the two. They must be sisters or relations of some kind. The shape of their eyes and mouths were so similar.
They combed and braided my hair, weaving gold ribbons into my plaits, letting them fall loosely around my shoulders.
The gentler one leaned close to me and whispered, “It will hurt less if you don’t fight.”
“That’s a lie, Lena,” snapped the other. “It will hurt all the same.” Flinty steel glittered in her eyes before she cast them down as before. “Now quiet, Lena, before the commander renders punishment.”
I glanced back to where Gaius still stood facing outward near the pool.
“Does he punish you?” I asked.
The angry one held me in her green gaze, hard and cruel. “They all do.”
As they applied powder and rouge to my face, a sickening nausea curdled in my stomach. What if Gaius had already switched sides? They said he punished them. Did he do it as part of being undercover? Was that part of the Morgon Guard rules? To keep the cover at all costs, even committing the same heinous crimes of those he was trying to catch?
The one called Lena used a lip-brush to gloss my lips with oil from a blue vial.
“What is that?” I asked, the aroma strangely familiar but covered over with honey.
All conversation was over. They didn’t answer me.
Removing the robe, they toweled me dry and rubbed floral-scented oil all over my body. This was the most disturbing part because they didn’t miss an inch. The realization of what they were preparing me for iced my blood.
His breeder? Like an animal to be kept here to sleep with him and bear his children. Bile rose in my throat. I swallowed, more determined than ever to get the hell out of here. I inhaled deeply as they wrapped some of the fine gossamer material over one of my shoulders, letting it drape down to mid-thigh, much shorter on them since I was so tall. After tying a gold-braided rope around my waist and putting satin slippers on my feet, I was escorted back to Gaius.
He turned, assessing me with an emotionless sweep of dark eyes. “Come,” he bellowed across the chamber to the other guards, not to me.
He led, expecting me to follow. What other choice did I have? We exited through a different corridor than the one we entered.
“Wait! My clothes.”
“You won’t need them,” he snapped.
“But—”
He continued walking on. One of the other guards nudged me none too gently to keep me moving. I followed, shivering in the cold corridor, now that we’d left the heated bath chamber.
I glanced back once more. The two slaves, Lena and the fiery one, stood mute and at attention, hands cupped and heads bowed in obedience. Slaves. The unbearable humiliation and suffering those girls must feel. And how many others were there? These bastards had to be stopped.
I twisted Saint Portia between my fingers, sending a silent prayer up for those two young women, hoping with all my heart they survived. Hell, I needed to be focusing on my own survival. The pitiful possibility of escape weighed heavy on my spirit as we wound through the tunnels.
Then something came to my attention. We were ascending. The cavern floor sloped upward. We were heading for the surface. My heart skittered faster.
Gauis halted abruptly outside a chamber with steel double-doors. They’d carved them into the cave itself, fitting the giant doors on fist-sized hinges.
“Stand guard,” he ordered the others. They obeyed without a blink, snapping to attention.
Gaius opened the door and guided me into a darkened room. He puffed out a thin flame from his mouth to light the candles on a tiered gold candelabra on a black-wooden settee. He sucked in another deep breath and blew a flame to light the gold-caged sconces on the walls, filling the room with warm light. Plush cream carpeting spread throughout the vaulted room. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the ceilings. Along one wall stretched a massive bed covered in satin black-cased pillows and a furry, crimson coverlet. The headboard was the depiction of a Morgon battle carved in gold. I had a feeling it was solid, not plated. I licked my lips, feeling faint. This place did not look like it belonged at the bottom of a cave. It looked like a madame’s room in a high-end brothel.
“Gaius,” I hissed under my breath.
He returned from lighting the room, his expression grave but no longer bearing the stern look of a mindless commander.
“Please tell me you have a plan of escape.” I licked my lips again, that nasty lip-gloss smeared all over them.
“Yes.”
“Great. We need to move fast before that thing comes back.”
“We can’t go. Not yet.”
“Not yet?” I was screaming in a whisper, knowing Morgons had ultra-sensory hearing, not wanting to alert the guards outside.
“Number one. You’ve been drugged and may pass out in a matter of minutes.”
“What?”
He clamped a fist over my mouth and glanced toward the door, then glared at me, his voice low and dangerous. “That balm on your lips is a kind of sedative. It doesn’t last long, just long enough to keep you calm and docile till he returns.”
I yanked his hand from my mouth, my words tight and fierce. “Why didn’t you warn me what they were putting on my lips?” I rubbed the back of my hand hard across my mouth.
“Because I need everything to seem as normal as possible until the very last second. This brings me to the second reason we can’t leave now. He’ll be back within the hour. That’s not nearly the head-start we need. He has too many men and resources, spies hidden away, even in the Morgon Guard. If we’re to escape and actually survive, we need several hours of a lead.”
“How will we get that?”
“Listen,” he snapped. “I have about twenty seconds before one of the guards peers in here to make sure I’m not fondling the master’s merchandise.”
He held out a syringe filled with clear liquid and a stopper on the end.
“Take it.”
I did.
“Once he’s in this chamber, he will order no disturbances till morning because he’ll want all night with you.”
I swallowed but had no spit left.
“Get close enough to stick him with this. It’s a high concentration of poison and sedative. The sedative will knock him out. The poison will do the rest. Don’t miss the mark, or he’ll kill you instead. I’ll be waiting outside this door.”
“Commander?” One of the guards opened the door and stepped in. I hid the syringe behind my back, staring submissively at the floor.
“All is in order,” he barked, swiveling and marching through the door. “See that no one enters until the master returns.”
“Yes, Commander.”
They left, sealing the doors with a loud clang. I winced, gazing around the room, feeling trapped in a very opulent cage. Only one way out, and I couldn’t escape by force. I glanced down at the weapon Gaius had given me. I’d have one chance, and I couldn’t fail.
My head drooped. The drug made my legs shaky. I climbed onto the bed, scooting to the headboard. Unstopping the syringe with trembling fingers, I then placed it carefully underneath the pillow. I curled into a ball and lay there, fear gripping me hard. All the failed scenarios tripped through my mind: the syringe slipping from my fingers, the creature holding me down by my wrists, my captor pulling me from the bed and overpowering me. Maxine Mendale’s bloody and mutilated body flashed to mind.
“No,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.
As soon as I closed my eyes, a pull,
deep and strong, compelled me to relax. I did, slowing my breathing. Before long, my pulse eased, and serenity swept over me. As if two hands cradled me in their palms, keeping me safe, I followed the sensation, wanting to be held, slipping further into a dream.
Jessen and I were at the park. Sunshine poured from a summer-warm sky. Jess looked around sixteen, sitting with her back against an oak tree and a book open on her knees. Six years her junior, I skipped in the sunlight, picking white pansies from the field.
“Don’t go too far, Moira,” she warned, turning back to her book.
“I won’t,” I promised, picking and smelling, then prancing farther afield with light steps and a light heart to make a crown with yellow buttercups.
A cool woodland edged the park. I glanced back at Jessen, engrossed in her book, then stepped closer to the woods. Something waited for me there. My whole being yearned to be in the shade of those trees.
Seeking the one who awaited me, I walked faster. When I crossed from sunlight to shadow, dropping my flowers at the edge, I became the young woman I was now. And found the one waiting for me.
“Kol!”
He opened his arms. I leaped into them, feeling them close around me in a possessive embrace. He nuzzled into my hair, holding me as if I were the dearest thing in the world to him.
“Kol,” I whispered. “I’m so afraid.”
“I know, Moira.”
I pulled back to see him, eyes pure blue-silver, whites and all. He cradled my face. This felt…real.
“This isn’t an ordinary dream, is it? You’re dreamwalking.”
“Yes. Please, Moira, tell me you’re all right. They have not hurt you, have they?”
Though I still felt safe in his arms, even in this dream, I could read every line of pain etched in his face. His fear was as great as mine.
“I’m all right,” I assured him, kissing him.
In this dream, our lips met with tenderness, something we’d not experienced together in reality. Before I could get lost in his passion, he pulled away, still cradling my face in his hands.
“Tell me where you are. They’ve removed the tracker. I’ll go mad if I don’t find you soon.”
“I know they did. I’m not sure where I’m at. It’s a large, winding cave that goes deep under the earth. I believe they dug their own tunnels deeper. The walls seem to be made of a shining sort of rock, maybe limestone. It’s cold in the tunnels, but there is one part of the cave where there are natural steaming pools. That’s all I know. But Gaius is here. We have a plan to escape.”
“Good. I’ve been unable to reconnect with Gaius since he left Cloven. There are several possibilities of where you could be, but those kinds of tunnels are far into the wilderness. I’ll be searching with the Morgon Guard constantly. When Gaius gets you out of there, tell him to take you to Safehouse X.”
“Where’s that?”
“He’ll know.”
I clung to his shirt, wanting to burrow right inside of him, tears streaming down my face. His hand stroked down my back. His powerful frame held me tight, his lips brushed my temple.
“Don’t be afraid, Moira. Be strong. You’ll be out soon, and I’ll find you.”
I shook my head, choking on a sob. “Kol. There’s a monster here. That’s who rules them.”
His face darkened. “A monster?”
“He’s Morgon, but he’s not. He’s hideous, with claws, fangs, and he’s massive. He must be eight feet tall. And he wants—”
No. I wouldn’t tell Kol what he planned to do to me. I wouldn’t burden him with that fear.
Kol’s entire being became rigid and cold. “What does he want, Moira?”
I shook my head and kissed him hard. Though he moved not a muscle, his arms squeezed around me. I poured my heart into that one, lingering kiss.
“Tell me,” he growled, dream-eyes shining bright.
I broke free, running for the sunlight. Before I crossed over, I glanced over my shoulder. “Find me, Kol.”
He reached for me.“Moira!”
“Find me.”
I leaped out of the shadows.
My eyes shot open. My body trembled with violent shaking. Instinctually, my fingers searched my throat for my comfort, my medal.
Gone.
Bolting upright, I saw it…dangling in the clawed hand of the king of this underworld.
Chapter 21
I inched back against the headboard, my hands braced on the pillow, knowing what lay beneath. He continued to gaze at the medal, eyes observing every detail. When he spoke, the deep, broken tenor struck me again as unnatural.
“You humans still honor your saints and your God.”
Still? How did he not know this? Our religious practices weren’t a state secret.
“Speak,” he commanded, shifting his gaze to me. “I know you want to.”
Willing myself to breathe evenly, I tilted my chin up, holding my head high. “We honor what is good. Not what is evil.”
He smiled. If you could call it that. Sharp teeth, two canines longer than the rest, jutted out. My heart tripped faster.
“There is no good or evil. There is only power, and who has the most.”
I begged to differ. Evil incarnate stood not two feet from me at the edge of the bed. He rubbed a clawed thumb over the face of the medal, finally dangling it from the uppermost tier of the candelabra on the nightstand. Ropes of muscle rippled and bunched with every movement he made.
“So you honor your saint. I assume she has her own order.”
Many of our saints did. Portia certainly did. The Sisters of Light were a peaceful order who lived reclusive lives southwest of Primus. They devoted their lives to helping the poor and less fortunate, especially orphans. But I sure as hell wasn’t telling him.
He moved closer, a slow, primitive movement from someone who knew his prey could not get away. “You are afraid, which proves you are intelligent. You are also angry, which ensures you have strength. For a human female, you are well-muscled and have a strong body. You also show signs of being fruitful.”
His eyes raked over my breasts, the transparent fabric giving him a good view. He inched closer, his giant wings opening in a gesture of dominance. His wingspan demanded awe. I sucked in a breath.
“You may fair better than the last.”
I gulped air, refusing to think about what happened to the last woman he used as a breeder. Or tried to.
“Who are you?” I managed to ask without stuttering.
He reached down a clawed hand. I forced myself not to move, not to grab the syringe now and launch myself at him. I couldn’t take the chance of missing. If I did, he’d snap my neck in two seconds, just like he did to Gor. I needed him closer. Bracing one hand on the bed, he leaned toward me, then trailed his knuckles over my cheek, along my jaw, and gripped my chin in strong fingers.
“I am your lord and master, your king and sire. I am your sun and moon, your every breath, your every waking moment. I am your summer and winter, your entire world, your everything.”
An invisible pulse beat and rippled in the air. I gasped.
While my brain scrambled to comprehend what just happened, I felt split in half. Panic vibrated through my bones, a primal instinct screamed for me to get away—fast. Another part of me wanted to bow down before him, to do anything he wanted, to worship him. An aura of power, pure and strong, hovered around him. His dragon gift of dominance threatened to tear me in two.
I felt like a butterfly pressed to a collector’s board. Fluttering my wings would only tear them, rendering me helpless, unable to fly. So instead of trying to flee, I lay there petrified.
“What did you just do to me?” I asked, voice shaking, recognizing the presence of Morgon magic.
“What is within my power and is my right.” He lifted his chin in a dominant gesture. “Now. Lay down and spread your legs.”
Shit! I was doing it, his dominance a pulse against my sk
in. Morgon magic bent my will to do his bidding, not my own.
Looming above me on his knees, he unfastened the belt holding his tunic, readying himself, my nightmare coming to life.
“You won’t breed from this mating,” he said in a gruff voice, dragon eyes brightening. He removed his tunic and tossed it aside. I stared at the ceiling, definitely not wanting to see that part of him.
“How do you know?” I asked, trying to entice him into conversation, stall him. I reached both hands above my head, angling my body into a submissive pose, letting one hand slide just under the edge of the pillow.
“We know when our women will breed. We can smell her when she is ready.”
I’d known about a Morgon’s heightened senses, but I didn’t know they could scent a woman’s hormonal changes. The fact that he lowered himself to me, knowing I couldn’t breed, sparked a new fear inside me.
“Then why bother with me now?” My body obeyed his dominance against my own will. And still, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Let’s just wait if there’s no purpose.”
He laughed, crawling over me, above me on all fours, willing me to look at him. I did, captured in fire-and-gold. Dread gripping me as it had in my nightmare.
“There is purpose.” One of his hands rested beside my head on top of the pillow. The other lifted my woven braids of hair. “I want you. That is reason enough.” He sniffed my hair. “And we must break your body in so that it knows mine and will open to my seed.”
I couldn’t breathe. He grinned, the hairs on the back of my neck rising.
Saint Portia, help me!
“But the most important reason is I want to scrape the scent of your man from your body.” A new panic overwhelmed me. I didn’t want to lose Kol’s scent under my skin. I didn’t want to lose any part of him.
“No,” I muttered under my breath.
Flaming eyes caught mine. His shoulders stiffened. He’d heard me.
Waking the Dragon Page 21
