He lifted his head and looked at me.
Fucking idiot. Now I had to kill him.
“You’re naked.”
I’d forgotten that I was with my dress somewhere in the forest. Crossing an arm over my chest, I seriously contemplated the skull-bashing, but his gaze hadn’t wandered.
“Who are you?”
I shook my head, blindly fishing for a stone.
“I mean you no harm. I swear it.” Holding my gaze, he shuffled within reach.
I knocked him in the temple with the rock—hard enough to bruise, but not enough to kill. He slumped to the side, and rather than allowing him to tumble back into the lake, I took him in my arms.
Making me the fucking idiot.
With his head cradled in the crook of my elbow, I studied him yet again. He had sharp, angled features, but they weren’t harsh. Full lips, a strong jaw, and firm hands, yet smooth skin wherever I touched him.
Touched?
I recoiled—only for my palm to come away crimson.
Siegfried was bleeding. Retracing my caresses, it didn’t take long to locate the injury’s source: a jagged cut up his side. And what could be a more perfect bandage than a clean white dress?
I shook my head. Was I seriously considering saving him? Choking the life from him would be relatively painless, and once done, I’d be free.
But even when I’d believed Siegfried dead, I hadn’t felt that way. An even heavier chain constricted my heart at the thought of being married to Rothbart. He’d never once taken my feelings into consideration, not even when I’d accepted the marriage as my fate and tried to get to know him. I didn’t know why he wanted me and was certain the answer would disgust me. The man was selfishness personified.
What if Siegfried was the opposite? I’d never know if he bled out in front of me.
“Fuck.”
We couldn’t stay in the open, but I knew the perfect hiding place. It had shielded me from Rothbart on more occasions than I could count, and I even kept a few things stashed there. No clothes, but some food meant to keep, a blanket to ward off the chill, and most important, a blade.
The one thing I truly felt naked without.
I regretted knocking Siegfried unconscious about halfway to the cavern, but the injuries I’d sustained—a stab to my rear, and bruising from the fall—were slowing me down even more than his weight. I slung his arms around my neck and bore his weight on my back, but it could only work for so long. The strength granted to me by the dragon was waning fast. Sweat pooled at my brow and I gritted my teeth to keep from groaning, but eventually, we made it.
We collapsed against the stone in a tangled heap. Though daylight was wasting and Rothbart would surely be searching for me by now, I allowed myself to catch my breath, relishing the coolness of the cavern floor at my back. The only condition was that I keep my eyes open; if they closed, sleep would claim me.
After propping Siegfried against the wall and draping the blanket over his still-wet form, I snatched my dagger from its hiding place and set off into the forest.
The trek that would have taken an ordinary human ages was, for me, uneventful. My injuries had started to heal thanks to Rothbart’s magic, I knew exactly how to pick my way through the destruction caused by my dragon, and wasn’t slowed by the large indents carved into the earth. I located the dress by scent, donned it, and started back towards the cave.
As the entrance obscured to an untrained eye came back into view, a knot began forming in my gut. Part of me hoped Siegfried had awoken and left.
But a stronger part of me yearned to see him again.
My conflicting emotions were starting to make me want to rip my hair out, but I’d save that for the dress. I hadn’t gotten a good look at Siegfried’s wound, but judging from the blood coating my palm, it needed bandaging. Using one hand to pull back the curtain of foliage, I rested the other on my brow to help my eyes adjust to the darkness.
He was awake.
And he’d removed his shirt.
Our eyes met. Siegfried leaned against the cavern wall, crimson seeping through his fingers. It appeared I’d interrupted his search for supplies.
I gestured for him to sit, and thankfully, he obeyed.
I didn’t approach right away. We needed a fire. Siegfried watched as I fed logs into the makeshift fireplace; nothing more than a natural indent in the cave wall I’d used for the purpose. As I prepared to strike flint, his voice startled me.
“You, ah…live here?”
He either didn’t remember or hadn’t been paying attention to my hair. Not many sported ashen locks in these parts.
I didn’t answer even once the fire was a decent size. I crossed to the opposite wall, reaching behind a crevice for the pail that collected rainwater seeping through a hole in the ceiling.
“Do you speak common? Can you understand me?”
I shot a glare in his direction informing him that, unfortunately, I did.
“O-okay,” he stammered. “We don’t have to talk—”
“You seem to be doing plenty for both of us.”
He drew an audible intake of breath, eyes widening.
“What? You asked.”
“I…I suppose I did.” Siegfried eyed me as I settled near him with the pail. “Are you a healer?”
“Yes,” I lied. “Let’s see it.”
He twisted to give me access to his middle. The skin was beginning to swell, framing a long slice that spanned nearly the length of his ribcage. The moment my fingers grazed its outline, a groan escaped his lips, but I could tell the wound wasn’t deep. He was lucky. A good wash and bandage, and his body would do the rest.
“It’s not as bad as it looks—”
“Or feels, I’d imagine,” Siegfried forced through gritted teeth.
“—but I’m sure it stings like a bitch.”
His head whipped in my direction.
I tore a strip of fabric from the dress I’d worked so hard to preserve. “I told you I understand common. Even the colorful bits of it.”
“I misjudged you.”
You don’t know the half of it.
Siegfried was silent until I began tracing the now-damp rag over his injury. He tensed where I touched him, but didn’t shy away. “Who are you?”
There was no harm in telling him my name. It seemed only Rothbart knew it nowadays; at his court, I was simply referred to as The Dragon.
“Odette.”
“Odette,” he echoed. “Does that mean white in some language?”
He may not have noticed my hair before, but he certainly noticed it now. “I’ve no idea.” What a strange question.
“My name—”
“I know who you are.” I lifted my gaze to his. “Prince Siegfried of Kreston.”
Color sprang to his cheeks. “Was it that obvious?”
“Yes.”
“I hate that,” he muttered almost too quietly for me to make out—but the dragon heard everything.
“Hate what?” I was finished wiping him up, but wanting to hear his response, kept the rag pressed to his skin.
He hesitated. “That I’m always me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I tightened my grip around the bloody cloth once part of my unblemished dress.
“Haven’t you ever wished you could just…disappear?”
“More than you know.” The words came tumbling out before I could stop them, and rage boiled beneath my skin. He didn’t know, and he certainly didn’t know me.
“Is it your hair? It’s beautiful, but does stand out.”
I’d been so prepared for him to question my response that when he didn’t, I snapped my mouth shut.
No one had ever not questioned me before.
“Something like that.” Too far. I’d gone too far. My insides twisted in
to knots in rhythm with my fluttering heart, proving my body and mind were at war. My heart knew the pain of losing.
It wouldn’t a second time.
“I’m sorry,” he said, startling me. “I didn’t realize that was a touchy—”
“Don’t be.”
I worked in silence after that, bandaging his side with more strips torn from my dress. It was monotonous work: a blessing for my hands, but a curse for my mind. Don’t look, I chastised myself each time my fingers strayed a bit too far, and each time my touch lingered too long. I refused to allow my eyes to meet his face, so they ravaged his body instead, drudging with them memories I’d worked hard to bury. Stop it. You know better. Heat crept to my cheeks as I secured the final knots. Nearly before I was done, Siegfried stood, all but ripping himself from my grasp.
“Thank you for your hospitality, but it’s time I was on my way.”
Siegfried shot out a hand to steady himself as I raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And where exactly would you go? Do you even know where you are?”
“It’s daylight. I’m sure I could figure it out.”
“You truly don’t remember anything, do you?”
Siegfried scoffed. “It’s…fuzzy, but of course I remember. I was walking in the palace gardens when I saw the most beautiful—”
He snapped his mouth shut; eyes wide as he stared at me. “Y-you—”
“I saved your life.” I pursed my lips and tensed, preparing for a fight. “The dragon was sent to kill you—”
“No fucking shit!”
I held my breath, mentally picturing where I’d placed my dagger.
Siegfried’s expression softened. “Odette, I didn’t mean to frighten you—”
“You should be frightened of me.” I dove to the other side of the cavern, curling my fingers around my blade’s hilt and holding it aloft. My eyes burned, and silently, I challenged him to come closer. Just give me an excuse.
I might complete this mission yet.
He could have walked away. He could have turned tail and ran—any intelligent man would have. Instead, he stared at me. Studying me.
“Don’t pity me,” I spat, trying to ignore my shaking arms.
“Who did this to you? The dragon?”
“You could say that.”
Siegfried’s eyes narrowed. “You work for him?”
“Her,” I corrected.
“And you went against her orders—orders you’ve taken before. You saved me over all the others she’s killed. Why?”
He pressed too hard and too fast. I refused to lower my knife as I held his gaze, unable to force the answer from my unwilling throat.
“How many princes have there been before me? I know of Fredrik, Stefan, Philip—”
“Stop it—”
“Why me?” he demanded. “Why the last?”
‘I thought you could love me’ couldn’t be uttered, so I settled for the next best thing. “You’re different,” I blurted out. “It’s because you were different.”
“Different?”
“Are you always going to repeat everything I say?” I lowered my weapon but did nothing else to indicate an invitation. “Your men. You’d have sacrificed yourself for them.”
“And that was different?”
“None of the others did it. They all died like cowards, but not before trying in vain to save their own skins.”
Siegfried shook his head. “That’s a ruler’s job—never ask your people to do anything you wouldn’t do yourself.”
I laughed darkly. “Sounds like you’d have actually made a decent one. Too bad you’ll never get that chance.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can never return to Kreston. Not if you wish to live.”
He scoffed. “I can’t just abandon—”
“You can and you must,” I snarled, closing the distance between us with a few practiced strides. Once we breathed the same air, I pressed the dagger to his unflinching throat. Our eyes met, and I was impressed by the fire I saw within. He was every bit as brave as he preached.
“You can refuse.” I pressed until the tiniest bead of his blood coated my blade. “But if you do, I’ll kill you here and now.”
As I should have from the start.
Nothing prevented Siegfried from backing away. I hadn’t shoved him against the wall. The man was unarmed. Very unarmed, as I was all too aware. My front pressed against his bare chest as it was the only way I could reach his neck, and it felt nicer than I wanted to admit.
Stop it.
Siegfried glared at me with enough venom to make it clear my growing desire was one-sided. He huffed in my face, gaze narrowing into slits. “You’re bluffing.”
Gods, even his breath smelled sweet. “I’d think twice about questioning the woman holding a knife to your throat.”
“You didn’t kill me last night. You didn’t leave me to drown. And you did the opposite of killing me not even five minutes ago.”
I stood on the tips of my toes, twisting the knife at a careful angle. “You’re right—I don’t want to kill you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not changing my mind with each word you speak.”
He ripped his neck away and snatched my upper arms in the same fluid motion. Before I had a chance to lash out with the blade, Siegfried twisted me around so my back pressed to him, my own head barely reaching his chin. Locking his arms around me with one hand controlling the knife, he squeezed, assuring himself he had me.
He didn’t, but I certainly didn’t want him knowing that. Not yet.
“And I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered in my ear. “But you’re right—returning to Kreston is suicide. Which is why you’re going to help me kill the dragon.”
I laughed. And laughed.
Siegfried’s grip loosened enough for me to breathe through my hysterics. My voice echoed off the cavern walls, the volume of it hurting my sensitive ears, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop for a long while.
“What in God’s name is so funny?”
I couldn’t answer and struggled to draw a deep enough breath. The hold around me loosened, including the hand meant to control my knife.
“Are you all right—”
“Are you certain you didn’t hit your head when you fell into that lake?” I glanced over my shoulder and whipped him in the face with a sheet of white hair. “How the fuck do you expect to kill a beast of such behemoth proportions? You? A man?”
“I don’t,” Siegfried growled. “Not without your help.”
I ripped my arm from his grasp and jabbed my elbow into his nose, feeling cartilage crunch beneath bone. As he staggered back, I whirled around, once again gaining the upper hand. Blood seeped through Siegfried’s fingers and poured from his nose, and as disappointing as it was to have marred such a beautiful face, I didn’t feel the least bit sorry.
“First of all,” I snarled, “do not fucking touch me. And second, I’ve told you your options. Disappear or die. And I’m beginning to care less and less if you choose the latter.”
It was a while before he spoke.
“You fight well.”
My jaw dropped to the floor. You fight well. No ‘fuck you,’ no ‘I’ll not be ordered around by a woman,’ no mockery or sarcasm.
A compliment.
“You disobeyed orders. The dragon wants me dead. We both need the same thing.”
I glared at him.
“Survival.”
“And you think killing the dragon is the answer?”
“I suppose you would still be loyal to the beast. Fine. But you cannot stop me.” Siegfried turned on his heel, snatched his shirt from where he’d shed it, and started for the mouth of the cavern.
Rage swelled within me. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To find someone who will h
elp me.” He turned around so I could hear him, walking backwards toward the exit.
“You fucking idiot,” I spat, but he didn’t slow.
“You may be content to hide, Odette, but I’m not—what in God’s name are you doing?”
Siegfried froze the moment he noticed me holding the dagger to my wrist, eyes wide with horror.
He didn’t have to be afraid. Death didn’t scare me—not nearly as much as living sometimes did.
Siegfried swallowed. “Odette, please—”
“If you kill the dragon…you kill me. If that is your choice, I’ll save you the trouble.”
And your life.
“You don’t have to do this.” He took a tentative step forward, but my response was to dig the blade in till it tasted blood. The sting was intoxicating.
“Yes. I do.”
“Do you mean this literally? The dragon’s life is linked to yours?”
To keep from saying too much, I nodded.
“I didn’t know. Please, don’t do this. We’ll find another way.”
“We?” I scoffed. “You were in this for yourself just a moment ago.”
“That’s not fair and you know it. If the dragon can’t be killed, you must know some way to defeat it.”
“There is no way.”
“Odette—”
“Will you stop saying my name? I regret telling it to you.”
“I don’t regret knowing it.”
A chill shot up my spine. “Why?” I whispered.
Siegfried gestured toward my arm. “Put down the knife and we’ll talk.”
Trembling and with monumental effort, I let the blade clatter to the floor. My knees gave out, but before I collapsed Siegfried was at my side. He took me in his arms, and we sank to the floor as one, a tangled heap of limbs and blood.
“I can put you down if—”
“Stay,” I ordered.
He did.
I waited for my heartbeat to settle before speaking, relishing the sensation of something so real surrounding me. I didn’t enjoy being touched…but right now, it wasn’t so bad.
“Love,” I eventually uttered.
“Love?”
“To defeat the dragon, she has to be loved.”
Dragon Lake Page 2
