Claw and Crown Bundle

by Richard Lunch

  My pace quickened. I did not know what it was that pulled me forward. I started to rush. I was racing against something. I rounded the corner. There, the double doors at the end of the hall with the dragon inlaid in iron. No doubt, that was where he was.

  I jogged over and pounded on the door, the reverberation of the double doors carrying through my hand and down the hall. I felt eyes on me. They had turned to see what I was about. No one answered. I knocked again. It echoed off the stone walls. The smell of musk and incense caught my nose.

  The door cracked open. The Dragon King stood on the other side, shirtless. My cheeks grew hot and red.

  “I can return later,” I made to move away.

  “Come in,” he said, “Or did you not, knock?” He raised an eyebrow, baiting me.

  He pushed the door open wider. The incense hit me, then. It was foreign, and strong, and filled the air with a haze. I stepped in and looked past the Dragon King to his bed. There, a red-haired thrall, his hair cropped short to his head, lay naked.

  “I can go,” I looked away from the thrall to the King’s windows.

  “Thrall. Leave us.”

  The redhead made a petulant face before gathering together his clothes and exiting the room. The Dragon King sank into a leather chair and picked up a drinking horn.

  “Mead?”

  “Yes, your majesty. Uh, let me serve you.”

  I scrambled to take the vessel and fill his cup before filling mine.

  “Sit,” he said.

  I did, sniffing the sweet honey of the mead. Did he drink this often? It was a costly brew. My eyes carried over to his chest. It was a wall of muscle. His hips showed just above his leggings, jutting out with lines that led downwards…

  I focused back on the windows, trying to get his erection out of my mind. I should not have been surprised that a dragon would be big, but there he was. While I had had dalliances with village women, I had never taken to any of them. I did not dare to try the alternative.

  I had never welcomed a man into my bed as this King did so openly with a thrall. I gulped. He watched me. His eyes heated my skin where they touched me. I turned back to the wall. Shelf after shelf contained cups, of varying sizes and materials. A collection? But what an odd...

  “Why are you here?” he took a sip.

  I did the same. It was sweet, and filled with fragrant herbs. My mouth felt quenched and clean.

  “Your words may have been enough to convince my brother, but I need to know what is happening. Why amass your army and take us? Why now?”

  “Your brother was convinced by my force, not just my words,” he narrowed his eyes at me, inspecting me. I watched his hand tremble on the table, “and why? Because the Dragon Högerdonn will kill us all if he is not turned back.”

  I stared at his trembling hand, at the greatness of it, the veins that stood out, “You are The Dragon King, but can you turn him back?”

  “If we secure our borders, then, yes, I think we can. He may turn in another direction, and be left to ravage those lands.”

  “You would have him kill others?”

  “As long as it is not my people.”

  I clenched my fist and stood up, “This does not feel right” I said. His lip twitched, “your majesty,” I continued, keeping my voice calmer, “If your enemy is what you say he is, then he is a threat until he is dead.”

  He stood, placing his horn on the table and strode up to me. He stood a half a head taller than me. He drew close. His body smelled of smoke and musk. I took a step back. He advanced, closing the distance between us, and grabbed my arm. The fingers that closed around my flesh felt like firebrands.

  “Let go!”

  “And you are giving me orders?” he growled.

  His teeth flashed, sharp. In one fluid motion, he took me in both his hands, lifted me, and slammed me into the door.

  “King…”

  “Your majesty,” he said, “when you address me,” his breath was hot, I looked up into his eyes, he stared down at me, looking hungry, “I am your leader, now.”

  “Yes,” and I don’t know why, why I thought I should, but I leaned my chin up, my feet dangling inches above the ground, my shoulder aching and my spine pressed into wood. Despite his roughness, my body was responding to him.

  I turned my face upwards toward his, and brushed his lips with mine.

  The Dragon King’s dark eyelashes fluttered. He returned the motion, running his full lips over mine. I could almost taste him. We were so quiet, my heartbeat pounded in my ears. Then, a low rumble, a growl erupted from the man, carrying up through his chest. He pressed me up against the door with his body, slamming his chest into mine, his hips into my hips, grabbing at my legs, my bottom, my torso with his hands. He locked my lips in a kiss, and I closed my eyes, angry, and confused, and willing to forget everything I ever knew.

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