Golden Embrace

by Clara Hartley

  Diovan sniffed the lump of charred flash he'd stolen from his friend. He waved the leg around. "Smells like horse. You stole this."

  Cyrion picked up another part of the horse and cooked it with his flames. "I was too lazy to hunt."

  "We're supposed to be the good dragons. That was probably the farmer's entire year's worth of earnings."

  "Belonged to a rich trader. You should have seen that man's face. He almost shat himself."

  Diovan made a face of disapproval. "I'm taking this."

  "You wouldn't."

  "It's punishment." It actually wasn't. He stole from rich traders sometimes, too. He took the meat simply because he was hungry. That bush mouse had barely satiated his hunger.

  "I'd kill you for that meat." Cyrion continued to munch on his own piece of horse.

  Diovan smirked. "No you wouldn't. I've kicked your ass too many times before."

  "That's it." Cyrion stood up, the sides of his mouth still stained with food. "Come over here so I can smack you with this bone."

  Diovan set down his horse leg and cracked his knuckles. "Where's your sense of preservation, Cyrion?"

  "I need that leg so I won't starve to death."

  Leon, one of their newest additions to their group of ten dragons, sucked in a deep breath. "Will the both of you cut it out? I'm trying to read here." He peeked out from the edges of his book. Leon was shorter and weaker than the rest of them. The red-haired, freckled-faced lad had barely reached twenty. In dragon years, Leon wasn't even considered an infant.

  Cyrion waved Leon's comment away. "Stop reading and stand up for what's right." He rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. "Our leader wants to take our food just because he thinks he's the biggest shit from here to the ends of Gaia."

  "You stole that horse," Diovan said, wagging a finger.

  "Finders keepers." Cyrion shifted his fingernails into talons. Green scales began to glimmer on his skin.

  Cyrion barely intimidated Diovan. His friend should have learned his lesson to not pick fights with him long ago, but Cyrion seemed to suffer from memory loss. Diovan had broken his friend's fingers just last week. Dragons healed quickly, so it didn't matter.

  "By that logic, it's okay for me to take this. I found it on your table," Diovan said.

  "I'll show you." A low growl rumbled from Cyrion's throat.

  Leon groaned and palmed his face. The lad preferred to avoid conflict, which was peculiar for a dragon. "I'd much rather have peace and quiet. Oh, guess what I heard from the librarian today? He asked me to watch out for the women in my family. Diovan, the Dragon Whore is up and about preying on young girls. Diovan, you're infamous. People fear you now. Aren't you proud?"

  Diovan dragged his hands over his face, stretching his skin. He let out a sound of exasperation. Goddess damn it. "Couldn't you have kept that tidbit to yourself?"

  "The rest would have found out eventually," Leon said.

  Cyrion's face scrunched up with laughter. "Dragon whore? That's your new title now?"

  Leon joined in with Cyrion's unrefined cackle. "It's a rather suitable title, isn't it? If it weren't for him being a dragon, half of the women of Ocharia would have borne his children already."

  A dragon could only impregnate his mate, which made contraception not a problem for Diovan. The humans had to use pig intestines as a form of contraception. Diovan would be much less keen on having sex if he had to put pig organs over his cock every time.

  "Cut it out, the both of you," Diovan said, trying to sound commanding. The dragons in their group looked upon him for direction because he had gathered them together as dragonlings, but he wasn't a clan leader, so his authority wasn't complete. Their little team of rogues operated with looser rules compared to most clans. The other eight were bound to hear his new nickname soon enough. He couldn't wait for that to happen.

  "You're going to cast so much fear toward your enemies with that title," Cyrion said, sitting back down. He swept his hand over his brow, still laughing.

  "Don't laugh and eat at the same time," Diovan said. "It's unsightly."

  Cyrion chuckled then proceeded to chew. He swallowed his food, then said, "We're dragons. We do whatever we want. Like fuck every other woman in the whole of Ocharia. You're lucky you're a dragon, or your balls would be ablaze with fungus by now."

  "Leon, can I strangle you? Cyrion, I hope you choke to death."

  The young dragon shrank back, but then continued snickering.

  Diovan growled, bent down to pick up his stolen food, then walked away with his drumstick. Cyrion didn't seem interested in it anymore.

  "Where are you going?" Leon asked.

  "To whore around." Diovan wouldn't let these snickering bastards distract him from his latest conquest. Thoughts of the beautiful raven-haired woman continued to plague him. He couldn't stop thinking about her. He got hard just imagining her.

  "Don't scare her too much," Cyrion said. "She might have heard of your terrifying infamy."

  Diovan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his friend, then called to his wings and took to the skies.

  Aryana rubbed her shoulder as she walked from the training grounds. Her neck ached from a long day of training. Push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups—the usual exercises made her body groan in protest. Other than spells, many witches had to train their endurance as well. It made running after prey during hunts easier, and sometimes, physical combat was necessary.

  The moon glowed in the sky, half blocked by the canopy of vinelike flora.

  Her three-hour hunting expedition in the morning, combined with shouting at and demonstrating moves for the recruits, had made her exhausted.

  She walked toward her tent and stretched. After she entered home sweet home, she unbuckled her belt of soul beads and placed them down on a chair.

  "Long day?" someone asked.

  "Yep."

  She froze.

  What was a man doing in her tent? She spun around and found the gold dragon she'd seen earlier sitting on one of her chairs. He was in human form. His hair was just as disheveled as it had been in the morning. It looked messy, yet tantalizing. She wanted to run her fingers through—

  He's the enemy, Aryana, she reminded herself. Before she could reach for her soul beads, the dragon tackled her and knocked her aside. The chair fell onto the straw mat on the ground, and the soul beads rolled from it and out of the tent, out of summoning distance. She tried to scream. He placed his hand over her mouth.

  They crashed onto the ground, him on top of her. "Missed me?" he asked. "I have to say, this is not how I commonly try to seduce women."

  Was this man out of his mind? "Mmph hmmph hhmph ma."

  "Oh, sorry. You can't talk like this."

  She bit his hand.

  "Ow! I was going to let you go." He drew his hand back. The weight of him kept her down. She could feel his… his crotch on her. There was a bulge there. Her eyes widened.

  "Get off me, dragon."

  "Promise not to attack?"

  "Can't promise." She punched him in the face and flinched. His face was as hard as a rock. Her fist throbbed.

  "Don't hurt yourself trying to hurt me." He backed off, taking his weight off her, letting her breathe. Thank Kroasha. She was getting conflicting emotions while lying in that awkward position. "Sorry," the dragon male said. "I'm against violence when it comes to dealing with women, but I'm afraid in this case, if I didn't act first, I'd have two missing and frozen balls. I just want to talk. Do you know how hard it was to track you down? I'd like some appreciation for my dedication."

  "All you deserve for acting so suspiciously is having your teeth knocked out. You said you wanted to seduce me? What's your plan, dragon? Why are you tracking me down?" She couldn't ignore the way her cheeks heated at the sight of him. He only had his slacks on. His entire torso was revealed to her. Every muscle of his seemed to be bulging from his body, yet he didn't seem menacing at all. He had the most charming and attractive face she'd ever seen, which re
ally, just made her warier of him.

  He grabbed the chair that had toppled over, rested it properly on the straw mat, and sat down, wearing a nonchalant smirk. "To get in your pants." He noticed he had strategically positioned his chair in front of the tent entrance so she couldn't get to her beads.

  She could consider letting him get what he wanted. It wasn't against their rules for women to have premarital sex. It'd be fun for her. And it'd help her relieve that terrible ache between her thighs.

  Why was she feeling so lustful?

  No! He was the enemy. It was against clan rules to lie with outsiders. She stood up, not wanting to lie vulnerably in front of him. "Then explain the recent dragon attack on our tribe."

  "There was a dragon attack? It wouldn't be from my group."

  She crossed her arms. "How can I trust you? All dragons are the same."

  He squinted an eye and rubbed his chin. "That's quite a misconception."

  "The Red Beast has been seen around our tribe. Is that part of your plan?" She would prefer if this dragon's plan was just to get into her pants. She needed some action after a long dry spell, so long that her pussy was practically a desert, and she didn't have anything in particular holding her back—except for the fact that this man could be trying to kill her entire tribe, of course. Fuck, then fight—what was the harm?

  The golden-haired male wavered at the mentioning of the Red Beast, his smile dropping. "I have nothing to do with him. If he's against you, then I'm on your side."

  She rubbed her bum. It hurt from the fall. "You have a lot of gall coming here." She caught his gaze wandering to her hips, then back up again.

  "I'm honestly surprised myself. I don't usually go through such trouble for women." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs.

  "Women? You sleep around a lot?"

  "Don't you know? They call me… Never mind what they call me."

  She shot him a puzzled glance.

  A sensation of lust tugged at her like the pull of a strong current when she looked at this man. Some part of her body was screaming at her to mate with him. Mate? Where did that word come from? Body, behave!

  "So, you're just here because of your cock?" she asked, gesturing to his crotch.

  He was sitting with his legs open, and he didn't bother to hide the bulge there. "That's a direct way to put it."

  She nodded. "All right, then, dragon. I will give you the opportunity to become my male-in-waiting."

  He cocked an eyebrow. "Male-in-what-now?"

  "My servant male, also my partner. You are to be a loyal, subservient—"

  He scrunched his face up. "I don't agree with that concept. Men? Serving women? Isn't it usually the other way around?"

  "Not when it comes to the water witches."

  "Is this some convoluted way of you of saying 'yes'?"

  She pursed her lips, doubting herself, then said, "Correct."

  His jaw dropped. "Just like that?"

  "A woman shouldn't be ashamed of her sexuality."

  "No, I suppose not. You witches are a strange lot."

  She harrumphed, then sauntered past him. She picked up her belt of beads from the ground and strode back in to face him. "And don't you dare take my beads away from me again. I'll twist your insides with my magic."

  "Of course, anything for you, lovely."

  "And don't call me that."

  "Anything for you… darling? Honey? Do you like honey?"

  "I don't even know what that is."

  "You don't know what honey is? Now, that's something to show you."

  She muttered the magic words and stung him with a quick ice spell.

  He flinched and yelped. "Can you please stop doing that!"

  "And don't test me."

  "All right, all right. See you tomorrow… 'Sweetheart' has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? I can't match that name to you, however. It's almost comical."

  She summoned her magic, but he darted out of the way as soon as she aimed it at him. Her spell hit the flap of her tent.

  "Looking forward to it," he said, already outside.

  Aryana rushed after him. How did he move so quickly? Within seconds, he was already out of arm's reach. She looked around to make sure nobody else saw her. She knew what she was doing wasn't right. "What do I call you?" she asked him, having to raise her voice because of the distance between them.

  "Diovan," he shouted back, "the Dragon with the Magnificent Cock."

  Chapter 3

  I win," Diovan said, tapping his cards with his right forefinger. Cyrion and Leon groaned, both throwing their hands down. Diovan wore a smug grin as he splayed out his display of six blues. He mixed the cards together, then gathered them for the next round.

  Once Cyrion and Leon stopped laughing at his new title, Diovan had suggested a game of Oweeja, a card game, to kill time in the cave. He couldn't stop checking the setting sun. When was evening going to come already? He was looking forward to meeting the woman again. He realized he hadn't managed to catch her name. He'd been too busy trying to stop himself from getting his head iced off. "Drink up."

  Leon grimaced and twiddled his thumbs. "But I've already drank"—he hiccupped—"like, thirty jugs of ale. Where in the world do you guys get this stuff, anyway?" Leon accepted the jug of liquor Cyrion handed to him and sniffed it. "Oh, for dragon's fuck, this is so strong it tastes like piss."

  Diovan distributed the next round of cards. "A pirate's daughter gave it to me last month."

  Leon gaped at him, before beginning to sip his drink like a wuss would. "Where in the world did you find a pirate's daughter?"

  "On the ocean, of course."

  Cyrion grunted. He poured another cup from the barrel of ale they kept propped up in the center of their cave. "Aren't you missing out on drinking with all that winning?" Cyrion took a swig of his tenth cup. His face had reddened, but he didn't act tipsy like Leon did.

  "No," Diovan said. "I need to be sober. I don't want to embarrass myself with my date tonight."

  "Date? Again? Isn't your reputation already bad enough?"

  A couple of dragons landed in their cave—George and Gregory. Twins. They were part of their small gang of rogue dragons. They were fat dragons, too. Diovan hadn't thought that fat dragons existed before he met these two. They each had a healthy paunch, which jiggled when they walked. Their lethal weapons and menacing armor didn't match their jolly dispositions. Diovan wondered how the twins had managed to put on so much weight despite flying around so much. Dragons had fast metabolisms. That meant that these two had to eat mountains worth of food. Or maybe their bodies worked differently.

  Leon waved at the twins. "Hey… the both of you," he drawled, "have you heard about Diovan here?"

  Diovan growled at Leon and shot warning looks at him and Cyrion.

  Cyrion smiled and downed his cup. "They're going to find out eventually. Word spreads like wildfire, doesn't it?"

  "Better later than now," Diovan said.

  "Aye, aye. Leon and I will keep mum to save you the teasing."

  "What about Diovan?" George asked.

  Cyrion waved him away. "Mind your own business."

  Gregory tilted his head. "What's wrong with you?" The twins then strode off, dragging their huge catch behind them. Those two were always eating.

  Cyrion picked up the new hand Diovan had given him and fanned out the cards. "Does your new conquest know about your title?"

  "Would she still have him if she knew?" Leon asked, rocking back and forth. The little guy—little for a dragon, anyway—had had too much to drink already.

  Cyrion flicked a blue card to the center of the table. "If she were stupid enough. Or if she were a whore like our gold dragon here."

  Diovan pushed himself to his feet and banged his hands on the table. The Oweeja cards flew from the impact, ruining their game. "She is not stupid, or a whore!"

  He blinked. Where did that torrent of anger come from? It was unlike him to act so brashly. He was considered
one of the less violent dragons. He sucked in a deep breath and slumped back into his seat. "I mean, I don't like to see her being insulted."

  Cyrion set down his cards, which were now useless. He made a circling motion at Diovan. "Uh, someone here woke up on the wrong side of his mattress this morning."

  Leon's gaze sank to the table. "We were just joking."

  Diovan said, "Anyway, she told me about the Red Beast."

  Cyrion frowned. He got to his feet and began picking cards up off the ground. "Joakim? He hasn't been active lately."

  "He is now. My newest woman is part of a tribe known as the water witches, matriarchal women known for having extraordinary inclinations toward magic. He's trailing them."

  "He could be looking for dragon wives amongst them."

  "Joakim already had a dragon wife," Diovan said. "She's dead."

  "Not for him. For his clan. He probably wants to strengthen the magic amongst the Grimfires. He's likely planning an expansion. The Dragon Mother's awakening tends to make us dragons feisty. Truth be told, she's making most of us want to attack Joakim."

  Diovan tightened his jaw. "We're not going to do that," he said. He'd been ignoring the faint whispers of the Dragon Mother in his head. She'd barely surfaced in his mind, but he could occasionally sense her prodding him to attack someone. Some dragons felt her effect more strongly than others.

  Cyrion sniffed and rubbed his thumb across his nose. He set the deck he'd gathered on the table. "I'm telling you that we can take him on if we wanted to."

  "You don't know Joakim."

  Leon squinted at Diovan. "He threw the cards. Does that mean he forfeited the match? Drink up." Abruptly, he keeled over, his head making a large thump on the wood, and fell asleep.

  Cyrion nonchalantly strolled to the barrel and poured another cup for Diovan. "We know the Red Beast. We all know him well. I don't know why you're so adamant about staying away from his clan." He passed Diovan the cup. "We could muster up the numbers if we wanted to. Our home is right there for the taking."