The Dragon in the Stone

by Doris O'Connor

  “God, yes, please. I’ve been dying to hitch a ride on your dragon. I was too out of it to appreciate it last time.”

  “You should have said.” At her snort in answer he took a step back and fire flashed in his eyes. Unperturbed by his reaction she carried on.

  “And when should I have done that, exactly? You haven’t exactly been approachable, now, have you?”

  Drorgan looked stunned at her reaction for a second, before he shrugged his shoulders, staring at the burnt patch of grass, clearly visible in the moonlight now. A heavy silence fell between them, as she, too, stared at the carnage left behind. Her skin tingled, and dread crawled up her spine as her mind meandered down the “what if” routes. A pointless exercise, because she was still very much here. Not only that, but her pussy spasmed in remembered pleasure, and she clenched her thighs together to relieve that ache. It was unreal, this need she still felt for the man, whose nostrils flared as though he could smell her need. No doubt he could, which should embarrass her greatly, but after all the events leading up to this moment, it just felt right to accept this.

  “I had my reasons,” he finally said. He wrenched his attention from that burn mark to her face, and Rhonda staggered under the full force of his intense regard. “I could have killed you. I never lose control like that.” Running an unsteady hand through his hair he turned his back on her. Every line of his body screamed his tension. The air shimmered around him, and not caring how wise that move was Rhonda ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist while burying her head in-between his shoulder blades.

  A curse rumbled through him, the shimmering stopped, and turning around in her arms, Drorgan grasped her by the shoulders and shook her again. Waves of fury came off him, and it was only when her head snapped back and she gasped that he let her go with another muttered curse. Seemingly unable to keep his hands off of her, he ran them up her arms, and blew out a hot breath when she smiled at him.

  “Damn it, woman, do not do that. If I hadn’t been able to stop the shift, I’d have killed you. Where is your sense of self-preservation?”

  “Completely lacking where you’re concerned, it seems.” She had to laugh, when he stepped away from her, threw a stream of fire into the air, and then proceeded to glare at her. “That won’t work either. I told you before, the big bad dragon act doesn’t scare me. Besides, I know you’d never hurt me.”

  Arms crossed over his chest he pointedly looked to the ground. Rhonda willed away that sliver of apprehension crawling up her spine, and told the rational side of her brain to take a fucking hike.

  “Not intentionally anyway, and before you say it, and add another reason to erect a wall between us, that was fucking hot. The flames and you losing control like that, though, I should imagine it will be mighty hard on my clothes and the furniture, and bed linen for that matter, if you incinerate everything in sight every time we have sex.” She’d stepped closer to him during her little speech, and getting on tiptoes wrapped her arms around his neck, willing him to let her in.

  After a moment of hesitation, which seemed to last a lifetime, he uncrossed his arms and wrapping them around her, instead, lifting her up to kiss her. He growled low in his throat, when she opened up to the demanding sweeps of his tongue and kissing him back put all of her emotions into the kiss. Feeling him shudder against her, before he took charge of the kiss, claiming her mouth in such a way that she was half expecting them to catch fire again, soothed the leftover niggles in her heart. This, here, right now, felt right. By the time Drorgan released her, they were both breathing heavily, and Rhonda was all but ready to climb her dragon and ride that huge erection digging into her belly.

  Drorgan shook his head and pulled away with a short laugh.

  “Minx, stop that. Next time I claim you it will be in the comfort of my bedchamber, and I promise I won’t incinerate anything. Magda would have my hide for starters.”

  He grinned at her giggle in answer and tapped her ass. The action stung, and Rhonda made a big show of rubbing her behind while she mock pouted at him, earning herself a quirk of one haughty eyebrow.

  “You behave yourself now or that swat will be a caress compared to the hiding your luscious ass will get, if you don’t stop putting yourself at risk.”

  Rhonda lifted her nose up in the air, and tried for her haughtiest look, or as haughty and elegant as a woman could manage to look on a windswept cliff top, with her hair whipping across her face and her thin shift trying its best to fly up Marilyn Monroe style. Not that Drorgan would know what that meant, but judging by the flames swirling in his eyes, he appreciated the involuntary peep show she was giving him.

  Her teeth started to chatter again, as the cold wind blew across her exposed bits and bobs, and it spoiled the whole effect somewhat.

  “I-I’m, je-e-e-z, it’s c-o-o-l-d.”

  Drorgan held a hand up bidding her to stay, and in the next instant the air shimmered around him, and Rhonda looked into the green eyes of his dragon. His black scales shimmered in the moonlight as his tail swished sideways, and he flapped his massive wings once before he hunkered down to the ground in a silent invite for her to climb on board.

  Would she ever get used to the sight of him in his dragon form? From the sharp claws to the smooth scales, which she knew from experience to be warm and giving under her hands, to the spikes lining his tail, and the razor sharp set of teeth he bared at her in a dragon grin, he was majestic, deadly, beautiful, and all hers. Her brave, honorable dragon.

  Drorgan flexed underneath her and shook his massive head, as she settled herself on his back, and her bare pussy made contact with his scales. His heat branded her, and she gasped when his presence in her mind registered.

  You wouldn’t think me honorable if you knew what I want to do to you right now, little dragon.

  Chapter Nine

  Rhonda gasped above him, as though she’d heard the lascivious thoughts, which invaded his brain the minute he felt the heat of her wet pussy settle on his scales.

  I wish you would.

  Her whispered thought registered in his consciousness, and they both froze.

  You heard that, didn’t you? How is that possible?

  Rhonda’s astonished whisper in his head mirrored his own feelings so precisely, he swung his head round to look at her. Eyes wide, with the biggest smile ever on her face she looked happy and ravishingly beautiful, so much so that it hurt to look at her. Drorgan had no answer for her, at least not one he was willing to share, because if she really was who his dragon was screaming at him, then he would never be able to let her go. And let her go, he must, eventually. It wasn’t fair to keep her confined with him here in this sphere. She had done so much for him already, he couldn’t ask any more of her, wouldn’t let her make that sacrifice, even if she would be willing to do so. Knowing her as well as he did now, he kept those thoughts to himself, and flapping his wings concentrated on getting them off the cliff safely instead.

  Her inherent wonder and squeal of delight once they were airborne made him grin. It also made him wish he had time to prolong their flight, but he needed to get them back to the castle. With one part of the spell seemingly broken, he had to ensure that his people were all right, and then there was little Geva. His daughter.

  I have a daughter.

  He transmitted the thought before he could stop himself, and Rhonda leaned in closer and stroked one hand up and down his neck.

  You have and she will love you.

  Drorgan blew a stream of fire across the sea in a nswer and shook his head, as he banked left to fly up to the castle.

  I maimed her, and I killed her mother. She has every reason to hate me.

  Despite the situation Rhonda’s reaction made him grin. The feminine growl in his head was the sexiest sound ever, while the way she balled her hands into fists and pummeled his neck, tickled.

  Stop that, little dragon, or I will be forced to put you over my knee when I get you back to the castle. You will hurt yourself, and yo
u’ll need to hold on so that I can land safely in the courtyard. I don’t want you to fall off and hurt yourself.

  Rhonda whacked him once more, before she grabbed hold of his spikes and hung on.

  Stop talking nonsense then.

  Strictly speaking I wasn’t talking, but thinking, little dragon.

  Another feminine growl trembled through his being, and he could imagine the expression on her face all too well.

  Poppycock, do not split hairs, or scales, or whatever. Both were accidents, as you well know. And quite frankly, after what that woman said and did, I would have been sorely tempted to throw her off the cliff myself, had she not fallen off. I can’t believe she kept your daughter from you all these years.

  Drorgan’s chest tightened with a flood of tender feelings that were entirely alien to him, but Rhonda’s vehement defense of him, as misguided as it was, warmed his dark soul. It also gave him hope that maybe he could build a relationship of sorts with Geva. He shook his head at his own stupidity of having taken Cheryladna’s word for it. He should have followed his first instinct and his dragon’s insistent niggle and seen the child when she was born. However, she had not been expected to survive, and being the arrogant and selfish bastard he had been then, he hadn’t seen the point in paying a visit to the nursery. Had he done so, his daughter would not have been there that fateful night. No, he would have claimed his kin, and she’d have been safe under Magda’s care, taking her rightful place as his heir.

  You can’t change the past, only the future. Don’t dwell on it,

  Rhonda’s voice in his head shook him out of those morose thoughts, and taking care to not dislodge his precious cargo, he landed in the courtyard. Their mental connection severed the minute he shifted back to his human form. He’d barely managed to clothe himself, before the doors flung open and a harassed and worried looking Eugene appeared, wringing his hands.

  “Oh, thank the heavens, you’re back, my lord, my lady.” He offered Rhonda the shawl he’d been carrying slung over one arm, and his girl accepted it with a grateful sigh. “The whole castle is in uproar, my lord, and little Geva…”

  “What about Geva?” Rhonda interrupted Eugene, while throwing Drorgan a worried look, which mirrored the sudden churning in his gut. His sensitive nose picked up the scent of fear and despair in the air, mixed in with the inconsolable bouts of a child’s crying.

  Not waiting for Eugene’s rushed explanation, he raced up the big stairs and along the corridors until he reached the solar and the bedchambers. He stopped outside the heavy door guarding Rhonda’s room, when he heard Magda’s voice trying her best to console the crying child. Allowing his dragon senses to reach out he concentrated, opened his mind, and the wild emotions battering his soul almost brought him to his knees.

  His dragon keened his distress, puffs of smoke escaping his nostrils, as the truth hit him square in the chest. With his barriers down, and his mind wide open, he could read his daughter’s thoughts as clearly as though they were his own.

  Grief, despair, desperation. Like so often happened in the very young, her mother’s death seemed to have opened the floodgates to her inner dragon magic. It meant she knew the truth. That Drorgan was her father, that her mother was dead. The spell, everything—and it was tearing his little girl in half. She was too young, too inexperienced, to deal with the forces battling her soul right now, and while Magda was trying her best to calm her thoughts, it wasn’t enough.

  Rhonda’s scent mixed with her rapid exhalations behind him warned him of her approach, seconds before she wrapped her hands around his middle and hugged him close. The action grounded his agitated dragon, as did the whispered words against his back.

  “Eugene filled me in. You need to go in there and help her. Your daughter needs you.”

  Drorgan shook his head and closed his eyes.

  “She hates me.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. She never hated you, despite Cheryladna’s best attempts to poison her mind. You frighten her a little, that’s all. I should know, we had enough discussions over you, and before you ask, she doesn’t remember the incident with the flames. Only what Cheryladna told her, and knowing that bitch, I dread to think how she distorted the truth.” A whack to his back later, as though she had just punched him, Rhonda stepped away and pushed down the handle of the door. It sprang open, and Geva’s cries got louder. With one long last look at him, Rhonda stepped through.

  “Hey, little lady, you have everyone worried.”

  He felt Magda’s relief in his mind at the appearance of Rhonda, and his daughter jumped and all but threw herself at Rhonda. Stumbling under the sudden onslaught, Rhonda sank to the floor in front of the fire, and simply held Geva.

  Finally you’re here. What took you so long? Though looking at Rhonda I can guess. Geva claims you killed her mother. Did you?

  Magda questions in his head held no censure, just a quiet curiosity and the same stunned wonder that still held him in its clutches. He shook his head, and Magda smiled.

  Good. Lord knows that woman deserved to die, not least for keeping your daughter from you, but it will be easier for Geva knowing that her father didn’t kill her mother. Go to them. They both need you.

  Drorgan wasn’t at all sure of that. Geva had stopped crying at last, but her fingers were flying, making it difficult to keep up with what she was feverishly communicating to Rhonda. All he caught of that blur of digits was Mama dead, and he killed her.

  Rhonda shook her head repeatedly and from the looks of it was trying her best to tell Geva what had happened in as gentle terms as she could manage, but Geva was getting agitated again.

  “Little one, listen to me. You need to calm down and listen.”

  Rhonda gasped when Geva shook her head, screeched, and pushed off her lap with a speed giving away her heritage as clearly as the slowly burning flecks of flame in her eyes. She had his mother’s eyes, Drorgan realized with a start, and wondered how he’d never noticed it before. With her dragon half awakened and itching to burst from under her skin, the family resemblance was unmistakable.

  Beautiful, isn’t she? The magic is very strong in her, Drorgan.

  Drorgan had to agree with Magda’s quiet assessment in his head, and he winced when Rhonda reached out to Geva, only to have her hands repelled by the sheer force of Geva’s will.

  Channeling all his power he reached out to his daughter, melding his mind with hers, and the little girl froze.

  Stop this, little bird. You will hurt her, and I cannot let you do that.

  Green eyes the color of the deepest jewel connected with his, and a fresh blast of her magic hit him straight in the face. The force of it made him take a step back, and he shook his head at her, even as his dragon secretly rejoiced at his strong offspring.

  I said, stop it. You will hurt yourself and those around you. That is not the way to use our magic, daughter.

  Her screech of outrage filled his head, but the desperation behind it tore at his soul, and crossing the distance between them, he picked her up. She fought him at first, but eventually her struggles ceased and she started crying again. He hoped they were healing tears.

  ****

  Seeing Drorgan interact with Geva brought tears to Rhonda’s eyes. Her hands stung from where the little girl had used her magic against her. She hadn’t recognized her at that moment, only seen the fury of a young dragon out of control. Not that she could blame her.

  The sudden knowledge that she was half dragon must have been a huge shock to her. It had certainly been an immense, if not to say devastating realization for Drorgan, and he had centuries on his side, not a mere seven years in Geva’s case.

  Magda’s hand on her shoulder roused Rhonda, and she startled as the older woman held out her hand.

  “Let’s go and give them some time.” Magda whispered the words in her ear, so as not to disturb father and daughter locked in an embrace, and their own little world, it seemed. “He’s melded his mind with hers to help her heal. There
’s nothing you can do here, and those will need tending.”

  Magda tugged her up and off the floor by her wrists, and clucked her tongue when she turned Rhonda’s wrists over. She was surprised to see the burn marks on her palms. How was that even possible? Drorgan had engulfed her in fire, yet hadn’t left a mark on her, and this little slip of a girl had burned her without even touching her.

  Doubts assailed her out of nowhere, and she meekly followed Magda out of the room and into Drorgan’s chamber at the opposite end of the solar. She bit back tears when she entered because his familiar musk was everywhere.

  How could she feel so close to him one minute, yet so far removed from understanding what was really going on here the next?

  Magda pulled on the long bell pull to signal the servants and steered her to the chair in front of the fire.

  “Now, don’t go jumping to conclusions, my dear. You promised me you wouldn’t.”

  Rhonda sat down with a thump and promptly winced as her sore nether regions protested.

  Magda clucked her tongue again, and lifted her chin up to make Rhonda look at her. The compassion in her dark gaze made Rhonda want to cry in earnest, but she swallowed that lump of emotion down.

  “I’m not, it’s just…”

  “You’ve realized you love him and, yet, you don’t know him at all?” Magda asked with a small smile on her withered face, and Rhonda shook her head at the older woman.

  “I don’t love him. What we have is just a healthy dose of lust.”

  Magda snorted as though she didn’t believe a word of what Rhonda had just said. In truth, Rhonda wasn’t entirely sure herself. Surely, that was all it was, all it could ever be, because it would leave her open to untold heartache if she’d actually been foolish enough to allow herself to fall in love with him.

  “If you say so, my dear.” Magda turned her attention back to Rhonda’s hands. “I’ve got a salve that will help with that, until Drorgan gets back and can heal you himself.”