Love in the Time of Dragons ld-1

by Katie MacAlister

  “Yes, I think I would be, but I have some moral values, and one of those is to not commit adultery.” The muscle twitched again. “This is not an issue. I will kill this husband who dares claim what is mine, and then you will be able to give yourself to me freely.” I laughed; I just couldn’t help myself. He was so earnest, and it tickled my funny bone. “I appreciate the fact that you have absolutely no qualms about killing an innocent man, but that would be even less tolerable to me than straying. No. You will not kill my husband.” “Stop saying that word,” he snapped, releasing me to pace the width of the room.

  “I’m sorry. I will endeavor not to talk about him.” It was an effort, but I managed to keep from smiling.

  “I realize that you feel some mortal emotions toward this… person… but you are a dragon. You are my mate. You must be claimed. It would be dangerous for you to remain as you are.” “Dangerous,” I said, skeptical to my toes. I managed to keep from throwing myself on him, knowing if I did, I wouldn’t be able to resist him a second time.

  “You are a wyvern’s mate. If other wyverns were to see you and know you for what you are, they could steal you from me,” he said, and I realized that he was deadly serious.

  “I hate to break this to you, but unless there are some septs that I don’t know about, I’ve seen all the wyverns. I met them all at the sárkány. No one even looked twice at me, at least not in the way you’re implying.” “Nonetheless, you could be claimed by another.” He paced past me, his hands behind his back. “I can’t tolerate that. Once, I let you slip away from me — I have learned from that mistake, and will not do so again.” My heart warmed. I couldn’t help it. Oh, he was being arrogant and pushy and domineering, but none of that really mattered, not when I could see the insecurity and fear that he tried so hard to keep from me. “I appreciate the fact that you want to protect me, but it’s not necessary.” “Even now they are plotting to take you!” he said stubbornly.

  “Who?” I asked, confused.

  “The unattached wyverns, Bastian and Kostya. They have seen you, and they want you.” “Oh, for the love of all that’s good and glorious! It’s flattering that you think every wyvern out there is panting after me, but you’re way off the scale here, Baltic. No one gives a damn about me, at least not in that sense. You really do take the cake, do you know that?” “I have no cake!” he said, deliberately misinterpreting me.

  I slapped my hand down on the table, frustrated, amused, and wildly aroused, all at the same time. “Well, that’s a shame, because I could sure go for a piece right now.” “If you are hungry, I will feed you,” he said somewhat grumpily “Maybe later,” I said with a smile. I looked around the room, examining the few objets d’art scattered around. “This is a very pretty house.” The sitting room was also done in white and egg cream, with beige and white striped overstuffed armchairs, less substantial black and gold Regency chairs, and a honey oak parquet floor.

  “It’s abominable, but it has an excellent view of the surrounding area, so I will be able to see attackers before they can strike.” I stopped in front of the long fireplace, tipping my head as I examined him. He looked the same as he had earlier — chocolate hair pulled back in a short ponytail, the widow’s peak drawing attention to his high brow, his eyes just as piercing as they had been in my dreams. I sensed power about him that I realized with a shock was his dragon fire, carefully leashed, but present nonetheless. “Is that how you think? In terms of people attacking you?” “Dragons, not people.”

  “Well, perhaps if you didn’t run around slaughtering other dragons, you wouldn’t have to protect yourself from them when they seek revenge.” A frown pulled his eyebrows close. “If you are referring to the wars—” “Actually, I’m not,” I said, heedlessly interrupting him. “I’m talking about the sixty-eight blue dragons you killed a couple of months ago.” He said nothing for a moment, pulling a long cream and gold curtain across a floor-to-ceiling window before turning to consider me. “What would you think if I told you that I was not responsible for those deaths?” “I’d say…” I thought for a moment, my lips pursing. “I’d say that everyone believes you are.” He shook his head. “That is not what I wanted to know.” “It’s what you asked,” I pointed out.

  “But it is not what I wanted to know, a fact of which you are well aware.” To my surprise, he smiled. “If you had any doubt that you are a dragon, Ysolde, the fact that you avoid answering a direct question should be proof positive.” “You should do that more often.”

  “Point out reasons why you should recognize the fact that you’re a dragon?” “No, smile.”

  His smile faded. “I have had no reason to do so.” “Maybe not, but a sense of humor is right at the top of traits I find sexy in a man.” “You already think I’m sexy,” he said with arrogant ease, strolling toward me with the same sense of a panther gliding silently down a jungle path that I remembered from the other Ysolde’s life.

  “In the past? No doubt. But there are a whole lot of sexy men around today.” I kept my voice light, striving not to let him hear the smile in it.

  He paused, a moment of uncertainty in his face. “You find this other man, this husband, sexy?” “Gareth? Lord, no.” I frowned, wondering about that.

  “Then why did you mate with him?”

  “Physically, you mean?”

  He nodded, watching me with the intensity of a panther, too.

  “I don’t really know. I must have slept with him at some time. That’s what married people do. But…” I sat and tried to examine the still impenetrable mass that was my memories. “No. There’s nothing there. I can see his face, and I know he’s a bastard, and I don’t wish to be married to him anymore, but beyond that, it’s pretty much a void.” “That is a small comfort,” Baltic said with a wry twist to his lips. “What man is it you find sexy, then? Is it Gabriel? You find him arousing?” I couldn’t help but smile at the sudden look of sheer outrage that passed over his face. “Why on earth would you think that?” “You are a wyvern’s mate,” he snorted. “He is a wyvern, and you were staying in his house. Did he touch you?” “Even if he wanted to — and I assure you, he views me as nothing more than a big pain in the ass — May would kill him. And quite probably me, although perhaps she’d let me live because if she killed me, she’d feel obligated to take in Brom.” “Who is Brom?” he asked, his frown back. “Is he yet another man who arouses you?” “I think lots of men are sexy, but that doesn’t mean squat,” I said, trying not to laugh again.

  “It does to me.”

  “Pfft. Like you haven’t ever seen a woman and thought she was attractive?” “No,” he said in complete seriousness.

  I gawked at him, just a little gawk. “Oh, come on, Baltic.” “You doubt my word?” he said, bristling at the implication that I thought he was lying.

  “I think you’re trying to make me feel bad, yes.” He sighed a very exaggerated sigh, pulling me to my feet. I stepped away immediately, knowing that just being close to him would leave me indulging my carnal desires. “Ysolde, you are my mate. I desire no other woman than you. I would not try to make you feel bad. I would not lie to you, a fact you should know.” “All right, I apologize for doubting your word,” I said humbly, moving over to the window. Although my body screamed to be near him, my mind knew it was wiser to put a little distance between us.

  “Good. Now tell me where this Brom is so that I might geld him.” I laughed again, amused by the flash of ire in his eyes.

  “You laugh at me, woman?” he said, stalking toward me.

  I laughed even harder, holding him back with a hand on his chest. “Please do not geld my son.” He blinked at me. “Your son?”

  “Yes. Brom is my son. He’s nine. I think you will like him. He’s a little odd, but very clever, and has an amazing range of interests, including a love of history. I’m sure he’d love to talk to you about the things you’ve lived through.” A muscle in his neck twitched. “You had my son with another man?” “No, I had my son w
ith another man.” His hands fisted, his face a veritable storm cloud of anger. “By rights he should be mine! You are my mate! Any child you bear should be mine!” “Oh, grow up,” I said, tired and suddenly annoyed.

  I thought he might explode at that.

  “I had Brom nine years ago. Nine years ago! So you can just deal with it, or not, but I warn you, I love Brom with all my heart, and I will not tolerate you treating him as if there is something inferior about him.” “You love me with all your heart,” he yelled.

  “Do you always yell?” I shouted back.

  “Yes!” he snarled.

  “Fine!” I bellowed.

  He was so angry I swear his eyebrows were bristling, and before I could finish my sentence, he was on me again, his arms as hard as the oak floor beneath us, his mouth hot and demanding and just as exciting as it had been in my dreams. His tongue was everywhere, twirling around my tongue, tasting me, firing my blood with little touches that seemed both gentle and demanding at the same time. He filled my senses, overwhelming me with the scent and taste and feel of him pressed up against me.

  And then the fire came. Actual fire, the kind that burns things down. One minute I was kissing him, feeling as if I were on fire, and the next I really was. For a second I panicked, sure I was going to be horribly burned, but just as I was about to fling myself away from Baltic’s fire, an amazing thing happened — something inside me shifted. It was as if the entire world seemed to go slightly out of focus for a moment, then snapped back to its normal clarity.

  The fire that threatened to char my skin suddenly danced along it instead, leaving me with a sensation of warmth, but nothing more. Well, nothing more that was harmful — it also fired up the burn inside me to new levels, until I wiggled against Baltic, doing a seductive little dance that I’d never done before. He groaned into my mouth as his fingers dug into my behind, pulling me tighter against him as his lips and mouth and dragon fire consumed my every thought.

  “You love me with all your heart,” he growled, his control very close to snapping.

  As I told myself that I really needed to stop before things went too far, the words he had spoken sank in through the miasma of lust and love that raged in my brain, settling into a righteous annoyance.

  “You know, I really hate people telling me what I do,” I answered, biting his lower lip, and not gently, either. I didn’t break the skin, because I didn’t wish to cause pain, but it was the sort of a nip that would make him take notice.

  And take notice he did. “You dare bite me?” He reared back, shock evident on his face as he touched his lower lip.

  “Yes — yes, I do.” With my hands on my hips, I took a menacing step forward. “I don’t like being told what to do! So you can just stop this Mr. Demanding bit and kiss me properly, or not kiss me at all!” “Now you are telling me what to do!” he stormed, taking a step forward until his chest rubbed against mine. “I don’t like it, either. And as for the kiss, Madame Bossy, I will kiss you any way I see fit. I am the wyvern here, not you!” “Madame Bossy!” I gasped.

  Nose-to-nose, we glared at each other until I couldn’t help it, and laughed. To my surprise, Baltic’s lips twitched; then a rusty chuckled emerged, which cascaded into an outright guffaw.

  My heart sang as I watched him laugh until tears wetted the corners of his eyes.

  “Ah, chérie,” he said, putting his arms around me again. “Thus it has always been between us, eh?” I brushed the hair out of his eyes, my fingers tracing the satiny length of his eyebrow. “I don’t remember.” “You are the only one who has ever made me laugh,” he said, kissing the corner of my mouth. “You used to say outrageous things, things I would not tolerate from any other dragon. Then when I was ready to throttle you, you’d tickle me, or perform some other silly act to lighten my mood, and make me think that life could not be any better.” His confession touched me, making my eyes burn as I dabbed away the remnants of laughing tears on his lashes. “Many things have changed about me, Baltic, but I’m afraid I’m still prone to saying outrageous things. Did I hurt you when I bit you?” “No.” His hands slid down to pinch my behind. “But do not do it again.” I giggled.

  “You do love me with all your heart.” That was a statement, but there was a shadow in his eyes that had me answering quickly, “Yes, I do. I’ve just met you, and yet I’ve loved you for centuries. I love both you and Brom.” “Equally?” he asked, pinching me again.

  “Yes,” I said, keeping my smile to myself.

  “You should love me more.” His voice had a faintly disgruntled hint to it.

  “That, my little periwinkle, is about a toe and a half over the line.” I slid out of his arms. It took more than a little effort to do that, since my body badly wanted to stay smooshed up to his, but the way my insides were humming, it was that or give in to him.

  “Why do you push me away?” he asked, his eyes hot with desire.

  “I… you overwhelm me.”

  “Good.”

  “No, it’s not good. At least, not until things are straightened out with my husband. Now… what were we talking about? I’ve lost track.” “We were discussing your refusal to mate with me,” he said, his eyes still smoldering with heat.

  I held my tongue, not wanting to make another pass on that particular verbal merry-go-round. “You said you wanted to claim me in order to protect me. That claiming business is just an oath of fealty, isn’t it?” “That is part of it, yes.”

  “Can we do the swearing without the sex?” “It is possible, but unheard of.”

  “Well, you’d better start hearing it, because I will agree to accept you as a wyvern, but I won’t have sex with you. Not until I can resolve the issue of my husband. I fully intend to get a divorce from him, but until I have a chance to tell him I want one, to tell him that we are officially separated, there will be no sleeping together.” He dismissed the entire issue with a little wave of his hand. “I will take care of any concerns you have about the mortal.” “I’m not so sure he is mortal,” I murmured, thinking back to what Dr. Kostich had said.

  “It matters not. He will cease to be a problem.” Baltic stood in front of me, a handsome, vital man who had suffered untold centuries of anguish. I touched his cheek, touched the hard planes of his face, tracing my finger along his high cheekbones and around his eyes, those beautiful black eyes that had a slight upward tilt, giving him a faintly Slavic look.

  I brushed a strand of hair off his cheek. “How did we both come to be alive again?” He captured my hand, kissing the tips of my fingers, his eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t know how you came to be resurrected. But I will find out, chérie. I will find out.” “What do I need to say to swear fealty to you?” “Whatever is in your heart.”

  I laughed. “My heart is confused at this point, so I wouldn’t look to it for any help. But I ought to be able to come up with something. Let’s see… I am Tully Sullivan, and I—” “You are Ysolde de Bouchier. This other name, this mortal name, has no bearing on us,” he insisted.

  “I happen to like the name Tully—fine. I am Ysolde de Bouchier, also known as Tully Sullivan, and I hereby pledge my fealty to you, Baltic… um… is Baltic your first name or last name?” “It is my only name. I have no other.” “Oh. All right. That’s very movie star, but that’s fine. I hereby pledge my fealty to you, Baltic, wyvern of the black dragons. No, wait, that can’t be right. Kostya is the wyvern of the black dragons. He was at the sárkány.” Baltic swore. “His traitorous hide deserves only to be split on the end of my sword.” “Please tell me you’re not going to fight him for control of the black dragons,” I said, unable to handle the thought of what I knew would be a huge battle between Baltic and everyone in the weyr.

  “By rights I should, but I will not. I am no longer a black dragon.” “You’re not?” I looked him over as if that would tell me anything. “What sept do you belong to? Not the silver dragons?” He shifted into dragon form, his body covered with glittering white scales.

/>   “You’re a white dragon?”

  “Not white — light,” he said as he shifted back, holding out his hand. Light formed there, stretching out to form a white and blue sword. “When I was reborn, I became something new, something not seen before — we are light dragons, you and I, Ysolde. Our dragon form reflects the fact that we encompass all colors, just as light does. We wield arcane magic, which other dragons cannot do. Ours is a new sept, with only the two of us as members.” I digested that. “That sword belonged to Antonia von Endres, didn’t it?” “Yes.” He glanced at it. “She gave it to me long ago.” “Why would she give you something like that?” I asked. “That sword is famous in magedom, and although you’re not a slacker at arcane abilities, you’re not a mage.” He tossed the blade up, catching it on the tip of one finger. It balanced perfectly. “Antonia gave it to me because she said I gave her great pleasure.” “What sort of great pleasure?” I asked, a sudden roar of anger whipping through me so great that it drove off my intention to tell him that Dr. Kostich had asked me to take the sword from him. “Great pleasure as in, oh, I don’t know, sex?” “She was my lover, yes.” He frowned, shaking his hand so that the sword dissolved into nothing.

  “You screwed her for a sword?” I asked, my fingernails digging into my palms with the effort to keep from shaking him. I knew my anger was unreasonable, but I was powerless to stop it.

  “Why are you so angry?” he asked, looking thoughtful all of a sudden. “Are you jealous?” “Of course I’m not jealous! What do I have to be jealous of? I mean, it’s not like the man I just told I loved beyond all reason informed me he’s been out bonking anyone who has mage toys, is it? It’s not like he just admitted infidelity, oh no! It’s not like you’re standing right there with your penis all bulgy and poking me”—I gestured at the fly of his pants, which was looking rather strained after our steamy kiss—“and telling me that it’s been visiting other women, not because you are seeking another lover, but so you can have a fancy mage sword! It’s not like that at all, is it, Baltic?” He looked delighted, the bastard. “You are jealous!” “You are the most obnoxious, reprehensible, despicable man I’ve ever met.” “I am a dragon, not a man.”