* * * *
Summer solstice was upon them. The Clan assembled in dragon-form. Braemuir was uneasy. Oidhche had not been unmasked. It was the hour before sunrise. Time to issue the age-old challenge, a mere formality these days. He raised himself to his full height, on his powerful hindquarters, and bugled his challenge once, twice, three times. He had been expecting nothing, so when a huge black dragon answered the challenge, he was startled, but he rose on his hind legs ready to do battle for the Clan.
“I challenge you to fight. I have a mate who is impregnated. With me, the future of the Clan is safe.”
“Who are you? Reveal yourself.”
“Time enough for that when you and yours are no more. Fight, or are you too afraid?”
“I am afraid of no one. I’m not the one who has skulked in the shadows and tried to kill innocents.”
“Fight, damn you. Enough of this idle talk.”
Oidche launched himself in the sky. Solus followed, and the battle began. Solus knew it would be a fight to the death. He didn’t want to kill, but if he didn’t, the Clan would doubt his strength, and this black menace would never go away. Death was the only option.
* * * *
Ciarda made her way to the Caisteal. She had scratched her arms and was covered in dirt. She looked as if she had been in an accident, which was how she’d been told to present herself. Seonag met her at the door.
“What is it you want? What’s happened to you?”
Ciarda knew that Seonag didn’t like her, Ciarda didn’t care, the feeling was mutual. When Oidhche was Braemuir, Seonag would have to go.
“I’ve a dreadul tale to tell, but it is for Eilidh’s ears alone.”
“Eildh can’t see you now. She’s awaiting the call to her dragon mating.”
Ciarda had been told to expect this and how to react. She threw herself at Seonag’s feet and, weeping and sobbing, begged to see Eildh.
“What is it, Seonag? Who is this? What’s wrong?”
Ciarda permitted herself a smile of pure malice, unseen by these clods.
“Eilidh, I have something I must tell you. It is important and can’t wait.” She said no more. Oidhche had told her that silence often got more than too many words. He was proved right when Eilidh began to descend the stairs. Ciarda fingered the knife hidden in her shawl. Just a little closer. Come down a few more steps. She saw that Eilidh was slowing, so she moaned, clutching at her breast.
“Ah, I’m in such pain, Eilidh. I need to tell you before I die.”
She heard that stupid cunt, Seonag, snort in derision. Eilidh seemed to waver, but Ciarda moaned, and the silly fool came down two more steps. Not quite near enough. No more words, just moans.
Ciarda saw Eilidh step down into the hall. Ciarda seized the knife in her hand and leaped up to plunge it in Eilidh’s breast.
“Die, fool. You don’t deserve to be Braemuir’s mate.”
Chapter Twelve
The final battle was watched by the whole Clan, in dragon-form, but there was little doubt in anyone’s mind of the outcome. Solus wondered if there was even in Oidhche’s, who fought well at the end. It was a bloody business, and Solus hated to kill one of his own, but he knew that Oidhche would never give up. Solus had a mate, his heir and the welfare of the Clan to think about, and he couldn’t let one rogue dragon destroy it all. He knew that Oidhche would never cease to try and wrest the chieftainship from him if he were allowed to live, thus putting them all in danger. Some would take one side and some another, and it would rip the Clan in two. He couldn’t allow that.
* * * *
They locked talons and struggled for hours. Oidhche tried to break Solus’s hold in order to slash at him, but Solus was the stronger by far. Oidhche began to weaken. As they hurled themselves through the sky, both screaming defiance and bugling their challenge to each other, it soon became clear that Oidhche couldn’t keep it up for much longer. The end was fast approaching. He knew that Ciarda had failed in her attempt. She was wounded and failing fast. He could hear her cries in his mind. They had risked it all, on one last throw of the dice, and fate had been against them. When Ciarda died, if she died first, he would die, too. Oidche made a decision. He tried to break free. He intended to end his own life. No one would have blamed Solus had he killed Oidhche, but in this way, Oidhche atoned, in part, for his past. With a supreme effort, the black dragon broke free of Solus’s hold, closed his wings, and dove down to end his life in the whirlpool of Corryvreckan. Just before he reached the roiling sea, he sent a goodbye to Solus who, when he heard it, dove after Oidhche, bellowing, “Come back, Riaghan. Stop, wait…”
Oidche knew that all the dragons could hear the despairing plea in their minds and were appalled. They would recognise the name Solus called out in his pain. They would know now who Oidhche was. No one had known the man-name of the black dragon. Now they did. By hurling himself into the mighty whirlpool, he’d spared Solus the necessity of killing him, atoned, in part, for his misdeeds. He would return to claim Ciarda, and they would depart this life together.
* * * *
Solus watched Oidhche as he hurtled toward the sea. He’d not been able to reach his twin. He’d had to pull out of his dive at the last second before he too perished in the whirlpool. He alone had heard the reply.
“It’s better this way. I can’t live, for if I do, I know I’ll try until I succeed in destroying you and yours. In any case, my mate is dying, too. Forgive me, brother.”
The menacing eye of the mighty whirlpool was mesmerising. The splash, as Oidhche entered the sea, was less than Solus expected. The sea didn’t erupt or boil. Oidhche’s life ended with a peace and quiet that he hadn’t known in life. Solus heaved a mighty sigh. At least he hadn’t been forced to kill one of the Clan. Not just one of the Clan, his own twin. He was thankful for that. He would never have forgiven himself. Oidche had spared him and, for that, Solus would remember him. There was no wonder he hadn’t been able to unmask the man behind the black dragon. Riaghan’s mind was almost as powerful as his own. Solus told himself he should have suspected something, when no one could uncover the man behind the dragon. Was that because, deep down, Solus knew who he must be, and didn’t want to admit it, even to himself? It might well be, but that was water under the bridge now and useless to look back.
He glided to the spot reserved for him. He made a stately landing in spite of the long battle. He was weary, but what was facing him now was nothing but pleasure. He put the pain to the back of his mind and closed it out. Eilidh didn’t need to see it now. Later would do. The assembled dragons waited. Raising himself on his hind legs, he opened his wings to their fullest extent and roared his mastery of all he surveyed. The dragons of the Clan responded in the same way. Feasgar and Maddain came forward from the rear. A path opened for them, through the ranks of the assembled dragons. When the colour of the new dragon that they escorted was noticed, a murmur of admiration began. It grew and swelled as Eilidh approached her lord. When they reached the front of the assembled company, Feasgar and Maddain stopped, allowing Eilidh to approach Solus. She lowered her head as she sank to her knees before him.
“Ciarda lies bleeding. She tried to kill Eilidh with a knife. Thanks to Ness, she was stopped. He struck her with his sword. He saved Braemuir’s mate. He has earned the right to mate with my sister, Maddain,” Feasgar told the assembled company. For a few moments, stunned silence greeted this anouncement. Then the summer sky began to lighten. On the horizon streaks of rose and gold could be seen in the duck-egg blue vault of the sky. Another perfect Scottish morning was beginning. It wasn’t just any morning. It was the summer solstice, and Solus was going to mate with his Ceanag. He anounced her name proudly to the whole assembled Clan. Only dragons were present. Her parents had chosen to remain in the Caisteal. They thought it wasn’t right to watch their daughter and her consort, mating. They were not dragon-kind and didn’t understand. Feasgar and Maddain flanked her. She was still on her knees, her wings stretched out on eit
her side of her. Solus lowered his huge head, and he twined his neck with hers. Then he raised his head and emitted a bellow of pride and challenge, such as the Clan had not heard for many a year. No bellow accepting his challenge was heard this time. He mounted her from behind, soothing her with his mind. She remained submissive, her head bowed, as he took the back of her neck carefully in his huge jaws to hold her still. He penetrated her, and she squealed in ecstasy as the huge organ thrust into her. He filled her. He was hot and engorged, and he knew she felt all the ridges of his cock as it entered her. The physical pleasure combined with the mental stimulation were so intense that she wouldn’t be able remain still. He was right. She tried to move. She tried to rise to meet him.
“No, you must remain still,” he said, minds bound as one again. “This is how it must be.”
His powerful hindquarters pumped his erection in and out of her sheath. He felt her give up all attempts to move as she let him fuck her. Her mind told him that the pleasure she felt, gathering low in her belly, made the human orgasms he had given her pale into insignificance. As the pleasure swelled, flowed along her veins, and her blood sang, he felt her mind enmeshed with his. He knew she felt it, too. She felt his pleasure, as well as her own, as he shared hers. He loved her. He wanted her. He was going to take his pleasure, but not before he had driven her to the edge of insanity with the pleasure he bestowed on her. She told him it was too much. She was overwhelmed with the immensity of it. Then, together, as one in mind and body, their climax overtook them. His hot seed erupted from his cock, and streams of the scalding fluid were pumped deep inside her. His bellow of triumph echoed over the Cairngorms and reverberated through the streets of the settlement. He knew that his people were just awakening to a new dawn and their tasks for the day. They would be startled until they remembered that this was the summer solstice and the mating day. Smiles would be exchanged. Braemuir had his mate, and the future of the Clan was safe for another generation.
Solus changed to his man, the signal for all present to do likewise.
“This is my mate, she carries the future Braemuir of Braemuir. I demand your loyalty to her, to them, as you give it to me.”
All those present came forward to kiss Eilidh’s hand. The members of her family had come down from the Caisteal, after the dragon mating had been completed. Now they all performed the age-old rite. Braemuir swelled with pride as he looked at her. She was so beautiful. She had a presence and a dignity well beyond her years. The robes she wore, of pale-blue silk, brushed the floor. The bodice clung to her swollen breasts and softly rounded belly. She looked as regal as if she had been born to the role. She is my mate! He exulted in the thought. She accepted the fealty of the Clan with composure and humility.
The future of the Clan was in good hands. His future happiness with her was beyond doubt. He sent a tendril of thought toward his son and was rewarded with a sleepy reply, which rocked his world.
“Don’t worry, we’re safe and well. She’s asleep.”
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Since my youngest son challenged me to write a novel of my own and I wrote Initiation, book one in the Prometheus in Chains series, writing has taken over my life. It has been like a roller-coaster ride and a very pleasurable one at that. When I sent off my first book to Siren, I had no idea what I was setting in motion. I have made many good friends, some readers and some fellow authors, and writing has certainly given me a new lease on life.
I believe the world has enough sadness in it, and my characters will always get their HEA, even if the road is rocky.
I am very grateful for all the help and advice I have received from everyone at Siren, especially my editor Jackie and Christine for so many beautiful covers.
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Dragon's Mate [Cairgorm Dragons 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 7
