Can't Get Enough (Dragon Kin)

by G. A. Aiken

  “If you’re sure,” Arranz told him, and Ailean could hear the smirk in his voice. Later, he’d toss him out the closest window for it.

  “Aye. I’m sure.”

  “So…are you a witch?”

  Shalin swallowed the porridge she’d spooned into her mouth. “No. I mean…” She sat back and thought a moment, trying to answer Kyna’s question. Questions she’d had to ask herself a long time ago. “I know spells. Many. But I wouldn’t call myself a witch. I don’t have that kind of elemental power.”

  “What are you studying, then?”

  “Alchemy.”

  “That’s turning brass to gold, yes?”

  Shalin laughed. Everyone wanted to change things to gold. “I don’t think of alchemy that way. Changing one thing to a complete other thing doesn’t make sense to me. I think of it more like taking a branch and making it a tree. Expanding on what it already is.”

  “That’s boring.”

  Shalin nodded. “It is. But you could also make a dagger a sword. A sword a lance.”

  “Imagine that, Kennis,” Kyna said before diving back into her porridge. “Imagine how deadly we’d be in battle.”

  “I’ve heard you already are deadly. They talk about you at Devenallt Mountain.”

  The twins shrugged and continued to eat.

  “What makes you such good warriors?” Shalin asked casually, enjoying a conversation that had nothing to do with scholarly endeavors or throne politics.

  “We like to kill,” Kyna replied simply.

  Shalin choked up her porridge, barely covering her mouth in time to stop it from flying across the table.

  “You all right?”

  She nodded.

  “And we hate to lose,” Kennis elaborated.

  “I see.” Shalin cleared her throat. “Don’t think I’ve heard any other warriors put it quite that way.”

  “I doubt they enjoy the killing as much as we do. Our mates, they say we have the bloodlust. Can’t really argue with them, can we, Kennis?”

  “No. We really can’t.”

  It amazed Shalin there were two dragons out there brave enough to be mates of the twins.

  “You take Ailean. He loves a good battle and he’ll kill when he has to, but I don’t think he enjoys it.”

  “Unless someone pissed him off, eh, Kyna?”

  “Exactly, Kennis. Then he enjoys it as much as we do. But when the war ended, we found other wars to join and he came back here. To his horses and his…uh…”

  Shalin smirked. “His women?”

  Kyna gave a little wave of her hand, clearly deciding not to go down that road. “Only we fight as human in these wars.”

  “So you spend most of your time as human, too?”

  “Not as much as Ailean. ’Course, don’t think anyone does.”

  “That’s true,” Kennis agreed.

  “We do like it. Doubt we could live this way forever, though.”

  Kennis made a face. “Och! Never.”

  “Is it true you plan to be an Elder?”

  Shalin tensed at the sudden change of topic. “Aye.”

  “You don’t seem like an Elder.”

  “Well, I’m too young at the moment. Another three or four hundred years at least.”

  “Even then.” Kyna pushed her empty bowl away, as did her sister. Always the same, those two. They moved the same. Talked the same. Nearly everything synchronized. It was…strange. Especially because Shalin felt the twins did it all on purpose.

  “Even then what?”

  “Even then you don’t seem like an Elder. Is that what you really want?”

  For one hundred and forty-nine years, no one had asked her that before. Now she’d been asked twice. She looked down at her half-empty bowl of porridge, suddenly feeling no hunger at all.

  “They say I’ll make a good Elder. Fair.”

  “That’s not what I asked you, luv.”

  Shalin pushed her bowl away. “I promised her.”

  “Promised who?”

  “My mother. I promised my mother I’d become an Elder.”

  “The dead one?”

  Two pairs of eyes locked on Kennis and she winced. “Sorry. That came out wrong.”

  “How does that come out right?”

  “What my sister means, Shalin, is how can you base your future on something you promised someone who has long left this world for another?”

  “Honor. That’s how. I promised her.”

  “What about what you want?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want to be an Elder.”

  Kyna shook her head. “That’s not what we mean, Shalin. And you know it.” But before Shalin could press them on what they did mean, the twins abruptly pushed back their chairs, and stood. “We have to train.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “Not at all.” Kyna patted Shalin’s head and Shalin realized she’d have a lovely headache from that “gentle” touch. “We just realized how late the day is and more storms coming.”

  Shalin didn’t like the twins’ abrupt ending of their conversation, but she decided to ignore it, since they were too frightening a pair to push about anything.

  She slipped out the book she’d stowed away under her chair and flipped it open. She didn’t know how long she was reading before she sensed someone had sat next to her. Glancing up, she smiled. “Good morn to you, Arranz.”

  “And to you, mistress. Everything all right?”

  “Fine.”

  He leaned in a bit and whispered, “I was wondering, Shalin, if you could help me with something.”

  Other than reading, she had absolutely nothing to do. “Of course.”

  Ailean stomped down the hallway toward the kitchens. He needed a new rag and Madenn’s skills to stop the bleeding on his arm. But he abruptly stopped in the middle of the hallway and took several slow steps back.

  He looked into the room that held all the maps and documents necessary for when they made battle plans. He glared.

  Arranz sat at one of the tables, his feet up on the thick wood, his hands laced behind his head. Shalin stood before him in a dress Ailean had never seen. Even more annoying—she’d been posing when he walked in.

  “What in all the hells is going on?”

  Shalin gave him a quick, shy smile that had his entire body burning. “Arranz wanted to see this dress on me to see if it would look nice on his lady friend.”

  “Lady friend?”

  “Aye,” his brother answered, smugness personified. “She’s a tall human. About Shalin’s size and I wanted to make sure the dress would look good before I gave it to her. Since it looks divine on Shalin, I’m sure it will do wonders for my friend.”

  Shalin blushed and nervously combed her hair behind her ears with her fingers. “Stop it, Arranz.”

  “Aye,” Ailean growled. “Stop it, Arranz.”

  “I only speak the truth, sweet Shalin.” It annoyed Ailean even more that his brother ignored him. “But now that I look at you, I don’t have the heart to take that frock back.”

  Frock? Ailean had seen and purchased enough dresses over the decades to know a casual frock and a dress made for a woman. And this dress, off-white with gold thread weaved through, had been made for Shalin.

  “I can’t keep it, Arranz. It’s too fine.”

  “It’s perfect for you.”

  Too perfect.

  “Arranz, if this is about the other morn…”

  The other morn? What about it?

  “No reason to bring that up, Shalin. You’ll keep the dress and tonight we’ll pull the tables back and dance.”

  Shalin’s eyes widened and she stepped back. “I don’t know how to dance.”

  “I’ll teach you.”

  Over my dead carcass…

  “Arranz, students of the Magickal arts don’t dance. Instead we walk around giving disapproving looks at such activities.”

  “Really? Can you show me?”

  Shalin leaned forward a bit and drew he
r brows down.

  Arranz laughed. “I’ve seen that look.”

  “I believe you and all your kin have seen this look.”

  “You’re not with some stodgy acolytes, Shalin. You’re with the Cadwaladr Clan, and you’ll dance.”

  Arranz swung his long legs off the table and stood. “Brother,” he said as he passed Ailean.

  “Bastard,” Ailean muttered back.

  Once he knew his brother had walked a good bit away, Ailean stepped farther into the room and closed the door with his foot.

  “You don’t like this dress on me, do you?”

  “What?”

  “The dress. You don’t like it.” Shalin smoothed the front down, and Ailean knew she loved the dress.

  “You look beautiful in that dress.”

  “Then why are you—what happened to your arm?” She rushed over to him, and he turned from her. “Ailean?”

  “You’ll get blood on your dress.”

  “Don’t be foolish.” She rushed around him and latched on to his arm.

  “Shalin—”

  “Let me see.” She lifted the cloth and frowned. “Gods, Ailean, what happened?”

  “That demon beast you call a horse did this.”

  “Nightmare?”

  “Who else?”

  “Why? What did you do?”

  “What did I—” Ailean pulled his arm away from her grasp and took a few steps back. “This is your fault, wench.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Beg all you want. This is your fault. You’ve bewitched the males here and now they’ve all gone mad.” Him included, because all he could think about was tearing her lovely new dress from her body and burying himself inside her until the two suns burned from the sky.

  “You’re insane, all right. But it has nothing to do with me.”

  Slapping the bloody rag back on his still bleeding wound, Ailean snarled, “Stay away from my brothers, Shalin.” He stormed to the door and yanked it open. “That is not a request,” he informed her before marching out in search of Madenn—and Arranz.

  Shalin must have sat on that table with all the detailed maps for an hour, her mind blissfully blank for once. But she didn’t understand…was Ailean jealous? Of his own kin? About her?

  It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. She looked down at the gown she still wore. She’d never had anything so fine. Before her time in Kyffin, Shalin had spent little time as a human, so there’d been no need for dresses. And as an acolyte at the school, she wore the requisite robes. So a dress this beautiful and regal was something she never thought to have.

  And why had Arranz given it to her? It would have made sense coming from Ailean because of their…uh…tryst? No, that word didn’t seem quite right. Not any more. Liaison? No. Too fancy for the way she and Ailean…uh…fucked, as Ailean loved to say.

  Perhaps this was simply some sibling rivalry that had nothing to do with her. And she refused to see anything beyond that. She knew her heart to be a fragile thing and she’d encased it in ice long ago. She’d not thaw it now.

  No. She’d simply enjoy this…this…thing for what it was.

  Resolved, she stood and turned in time to see Arranz fall by the window, landing hard on the ground. Convinced that his seemingly hard head could handle such a drop, she went out to check on her horse. But she still chuckled when she heard Arranz yell, “You blue-haired bastard!”

  10

  “What exactly did you do to my horse?” Shalin accused him lightly as she dropped into a chair next to Ailean and watched his family and many of the humans who lived on the territory dance. What had sounded like a simple little get-together after their evening meal had turned into a large party. Not that Shalin minded. She liked parties, although she never really participated before. She usually sat in a corner and watched. It seemed, however, that sort of thing wasn’t allowed among Ailean’s kin.

  “Me? That evil bastard bit me.”

  “You must have done something. It took me ages to calm him down and I had to feed him by hand.”

  “Och!”

  “What?”

  “You are so easy, Shalin. He’s trained you like you’ve trained that puppy. Only he’s done a better job of it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  He’d seemed miserable all night and she didn’t understand why.

  She turned in her chair, her knees grazing his leg. “You should dance.”

  “I don’t want to dance.”

  “Dance, Ailean. I’m sure any of these ladies would love to dance with you.” The glare he gave her had her rearing back. “What was that look for?”

  “For someone so smart you can be so…” He bit off his next words and growled, looking away.

  “If you’re going to be like this, I’ll go.” She went to stand up but Ailean’s hand clamped onto her arm.

  “You want me to dance? I’ll dance.”

  Then he stood and dragged her with him.

  “Wait! Ailean!” She’d danced with both his brothers and several of his male cousins, but she’d been horrible at it. In fact, she’d been quite grateful for their jovial attitude regarding her lack of skill. “I can’t—”

  He turned and yanked her in close. “You can dance with my kin, but not with me?”

  Her eyes widened at his growled words. His family, dancing around them, seemed quite oblivious.

  “I’m not good at it.”

  “That didn’t stop you before.”

  “Because I don’t care if I make a fool of myself with them.”

  And like that, Ailean’s anger seemed to evaporate. He grinned, placing one of her hands on his waist and gripping her other hand tight. Pulling her close against his body, he said, “Trust me, Shalin. I’ll teach you.”

  “You won’t laugh?”

  “At you? Never.”

  Even though a fast jig played, Ailean started off slow, taking her carefully through each step. He kept her spirits up and when she was moments from quitting, and before she even realized it, they’d danced around the floor as if they’d been dancing together forever. Fast music or slow, Shalin handled all of it as long as she stayed in Ailean’s arms.

  She’d lost track of how long they’d been dancing when Kyna patted her shoulder. “We’re going up, luv. Care to come with us?”

  Shalin looked around and realized they were one of the few couples left. Others were enjoying late-night meals or had already left.

  Shalin pulled out of Ailean’s arms, hoping to control her human body’s weakness of blushing.

  “Of course. I didn’t realize it was so late.” She smiled up at Ailean. “Thank you for the lessons.”

  “My pleasure, Shalin.”

  Hoping he’d still come to her room later, Shalin followed the twins up the stairs.

  Ailean went to Shalin’s window as he had the night before. As dragon, but using his camouflage skills to hide his presence from anyone, even another dragon, who might be watching. She’d left the window open for him this time and when he pulled himself through, she stood with her back to him, a fur covering wrapped around her.

  “Shalin?”

  She didn’t face him when he called to her, but instead asked with horror in her voice, “Ailean, I found chains and a metal neck collar in the small closet back here. Why are they there?”

  Ailean winced and gritted his teeth. He’d forgotten to clean out this room before Shalin took it and Arranz had unusual…tastes.

  He took a deep breath and prayed she’d believe the truth—although he couldn’t promise he would have if the roles were reversed. “Shalin, you need to believe me when I say that Arranz—”

  “Because I took them out of the closet and stupidly tried them on.” She finally turned to face him, her head bowed, completely naked under the fur that she parted just enough to tease. Naked, that is, except for the metal collar locked around her throat and the chain hanging from it. “And now I can’t get them off.�
��

  Slowly, so slowly he thought he’d explode right there, she raised her eyes to look at him. “Do you think, Ailean the Wicked, you can help me with this?”

  Ailean let out a breath and walked toward her, watching as she dropped the fur covering to the floor.

  “Aye, Shalin the Innocent,” he growled, reaching out and taking firm hold of the chain hanging from the metal collar. “I do believe I can help you.”

  Winding the chain around his hand, he tugged her close. “But first, I need your help.”

  Looking shyly up at him through her lashes, she said softly, “Anything you want, m’lord. I am yours until the chain comes off. Until then, until you release me, I am yours to do with as you will.”

  “Then I need your help with this intense ache I have.” He tugged down on the chain and, with a small smile, Shalin slowly went on her knees in front of him. “I need you to give me relief, Shalin.”

  Shalin gently ran her hand down the length of him, her small smile growing until she fairly leered at him. “Oh, it’ll be my great pleasure, m’lord,” she said, before she took him into her mouth with one deep swallow.

  “You have to tell me,” he said softly.

  Shalin, who’d found a comfortable position with her head on Ailean’s flat abdomen while his fingers combed through her hair, glanced away from the window and at him.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Who, Shalin?” And he smiled in disbelief. “Who in all the bloody hells named you Innocent?”

  With a chuckle, Shalin kissed his stomach, loving the way the defined muscles jumped at the touch of her lips. “Adienna.” She chuckled at the surprised expression on his face. “Adienna named me Innocent.”

  “Why?”

  Shalin repositioned herself a bit so her chin rested high on his stomach by his ribs and her right arm wrapped tight around his waist. “Because I kept rejecting her cast-offs. She kept tossing these dragons at me with these little comments as to how they were as lovers and why I should try them out. As if she were giving them a go first for my benefit. When I rejected one of Ceanag’s sons—I forget which one—she started calling me ‘innocent.’ And I decided not to argue the point.”

  Ailean ran both his hands through her hair as he so often did and gazed into her face. “But you didn’t see me as a cast-off?”