It was too bad that only Magda and Geva, when she finally woke up, would be able to appreciate those fine nuances. At least the responsibility of being the last surviving member of his dragon clan didn’t rest as heavily on his shoulders now. Not with his mate and daughter. It gave him hope that in time there would be a breed of new dragons.
Dragon fertility rates were not high, unless you were with your destined dragon mate. It was why it had never occurred to him that he would be able to father a child with the many humans he bedded. Guilt gnawed at him anew, but he pushed that disturbing thought away. There was plenty of time to make sense of all those things. At least he hoped so.
Having made short work of heating the water left in the adjacent bathing chamber, he returned with a steaming bowl, and proceeded to gently wash his mate. Even in her sleep her nipples hardened and she turned into the soft strokes of the sponge he used on her skin, murmuring his name.
It was on the tip of his tongue to declare his own feelings, but the itch between his shoulder blades held him back. A sixth sense that told him to voice his feeling this openly would bring about another change in the magic surrounding them. As he didn’t know if it was for better or worse, he held his tongue and once he had washed every inch of his woman, and chucked the now cool water down the chute to take it away to the sea, he took his leave. Time to check on his daughter, his land, and his people and once his little dragon was awake he would explain the things she needed to know.
****
The most delicious cooking smells tickled Rhonda’s nostrils as she struggled awake. Her stomach woke up a long time before the rest of her did, and she grimaced at the noises coming from that organ. Right now she would be able to give Drorgan’s dragon a run for his money in the growling department. Thoughts of her dragon made her smile, especially as she sensed him nearby. His scent overlaid everything else, but when she opened her eyes it wasn’t Drorgan she saw but little Geva.
Perched on the side of the bed, the little mite looked healthy, and downright excited as she bounced up and down. Her smile lit up the room, and Rhonda couldn’t help but smile back at her. With the sunlight streaming in behind her, it set the little girl’s blonde hair alight, and gave her an almost angelic quality. If you ignored the mischievous glint of fire in her green eyes, and the scars still marring her face, that was. Scars that seemed remarkably less pronounced than they had only yesterday, which made Rhonda wonder if Drorgan had used some of his inner magic to help heal his daughter.
The thought made her smile deepen, and her heart beat faster, as she looked around the room, but he wasn’t here. Servants buzzed about, which made Rhonda make a hasty, somewhat belated grab for the covers. Not that she needed to, because she was wearing a fresh shift, much to her relief. It would have been mortally embarrassing to flash her whereforealls to the entire room, not to mention Drorgan’s daughter. It was bad enough that she was still wearing the faint crisscross rope marks on her forearm, not that the little girl seemed to notice. She was too busy bouncing, head to one side, as though she was listening to something or someone that only she could hear.
Magda nodded to her when Rhonda’s look around the room brought her gaze to Drorgan’s old nursemaid.
“Stop bouncing, Geva. I told you it would wake her up, and your father was very explicit in his instructions to let Rhonda rest.”
Geva stuck her bottom lip out in a pout that she wouldn’t have managed only yesterday, and Rhonda’s heart felt lighter at the thought that in time her injuries might well reduce further. Reaching a hand out to touch the girl’s forearm she gasped at the instant jolt of recognition that made her blood sing. Geva, too, startled, and as though an invisible veil had been lifted Rhonda could sense the girl’s emotions. The mite really was beside herself with excitement, and Rhonda gave her arm a gentle squeeze and smiled up at Magda.
“That’s all right, really. I don’t mind.”
I knew you wouldn’t. You are my friend after all.
Geva’s clear voice in her hand startled Rhonda so much that she withdrew her hand and the connection severed, as though someone had hung up the phone on the other end.
When Geva’s little face fell at her reaction, Rhonda immediately grasped her hand.
Of course I’m your friend, Geva.
Drorgan’s daughter squealed and continued to swing her legs off the side of the high bed.
See, told you so, Magda.
Just like that Magda’s presence entered Rhonda’s mind, too, and she shook her head in wonder.
Geva, you should not be doing that without asking for permission. Forgive the child the mental intrusion, my lady. I see I will have my hands full teaching her the etiquette of mind melding with her dragon kin. Her father was just the same at this age.
Geva’s mental equivalent of a very childish and stroppy foot stomp made Rhonda grin, even as the fine hair on her arms rose in wonder.
I don’t understand. I’m not her kin, so how…
“As to that, Lord Drorgan will have to explain this to you.” Magda said the words out loud withdrawing from Rhonda’s mind, as did Geva, and it seemed odd to be alone in her head again. “I can tell he still hasn’t filled you in the on the finer details. I guess he was too busy with other things.”
Rhonda fought the threatening blush when Magda pointedly looked toward Rhonda’s forearms, and she barely resisted the urge to hide them under the cover, which would be a pointless exercise at this point. Especially as she didn’t read any censure from Magda, just mild amusement at Rhonda’s ensuing discomfort.
“With that in mind, we should leave Rhonda in peace to eat. I dare say she is starving.” A giggle escaped Geva as Rhonda’s stomach chose that very moment to start its growling act.
She rolled her eyes, and taking Geva’s hand in hers, smiled.
“Geva can stay if she wants, and I don’t mind hearing her voice in my head at all. It’s nice to be able to hear her.”
Geva looked from Rhonda to Magda, and when the older woman sighed and nodded, Geva’s glee once again filled Rhonda’s consciousness. It was such a marked contrast to the broken down distraught state she had been in only yesterday, Rhonda’s eyes filled with tears and she hastily blinked them away.
Do not be sad. Everything will be all right now. Father said you will be my new mother.
Geva tightened her hold on Rhonda’s fingers when she instinctively drew away.
Oops, I shouldn’t have told you that. Please do not be mad.
“I couldn’t ever be mad at you, Geva.” Rhonda grimaced at the hoarse quality of her voice, but that little tidbit had shaken her to the core. Not because she was appalled at Drorgan’s assumptions, but because of the immediate longing that filled her. To belong like that, to have a family all of her own, that had always been her deepest, darkest wish. One that she hadn’t dared share with anyone, let alone voice that longing out loud, in case the cruel hand of fate would take it away from her.
After all, Rhonda always lost the people she cared about. While the grown up rational side of her recognized the fact that this was a kneejerk reaction to her own childhood, the little, frightened, rejected girl she had been, popped out of her box and laid claim to her feelings.
Geva frowned and scooting closer swung her little arms around Rhonda in a bear hug—or should that be dragon hug—that took her breath away.
Little she might be, but those arms crushed around her with surprising force, no doubt due to the dragon she now sensed in the small girl.
Don’t be sad. Father will be cross if I make you sad, and oh, I didn’t apologize. I am so very sorry for hurting you. I really didn’t mean to. I…
The incessant chattering in her head ceased when Rhonda put her arms around the precious little girl in front of her and hugged her back. A sigh escaped Geva’s lips, and she snuggled into Rhonda as close as it was possible to be.
Magda shook her head and cleared her throat. Looking up at the older woman Rhonda wasn’t entirely surprised to
see her blinking away tears also.
She smiled at her over Geva’s head.
“Where is Drorgan?” she asked.
“Checking on the boundaries.”
“Boundaries?”
Magda sighed and rubbing her hands on her big apron shook her head.
“That boy has a lot of explaining to do, when he comes back.” She smiled at Rhonda’s frown. “Just don’t be too hard on him. He was afraid to lose you for good, if you knew everything. Now, if you’re sure Geva is no bother, then I’ll be off.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Thanks, Magda.”
With a nod in her direction, the old woman pulled the heavy doors shut behind her, and Rhonda pushed down the tendril of unease her words had caused and smiled at Geva.
“I hope you’re hungry, little one, because there is no way I can eat all of this by myself.”
Geva giggled, and Rhonda relaxed into the delightful company. By the time they’d polished everything off Geva was yawning. Having encouraged the little mite to climb under the covers, Rhonda wasn’t at all surprised to see her fast asleep, when she returned from the bathing chamber. Her bladder much happier for that visit, she pulled the cover up higher under the little girl’s chin, and dropped a kiss on her forehead.
Drorgan and she had a lot to sort out yet, but she couldn’t begrudge his having told Geva of his wish for her to become her mother. She was already as fond of the little one as it could be possible to be, and who knew what the future held? Not once had they used protection—in truth it hadn’t even entered Rhonda’s befuddled brain. She grimaced at herself. Then again where would they find condoms in this castle? It wasn’t as though either of them could pop down to the local supermarket or chemist and get hold of some, and while Rhonda always carried some in her handbag, just in case…
A somewhat hysterical laugh bubbled out of her at that thought, and she flung her hand over her mouth, lest her completely inappropriate merriment disturbed Geva. With the deep sleep only children were capable of, the little girl didn’t even stir, and Rhonda walked over to the fireplace to pull the swath of material that would summon Miriam to help her get dressed.
It was beyond ridiculous really. Back in her time she carried condoms in case she ever got lucky as it were, and the one time she truly needed the damn things, they were God only knew where and she was stuck in a time where she needed a freaking maid to get herself presentable.
Some of her conflicting emotions must have shown on her face, because Miriam’s expectant smile dropped as she stepped through the door and looked at her.
“Is anything amiss, m’lady?”
Arms wrapped around her middle, Rhonda shook her head and forced a smile on her lips.
“Nothing, it’s chilly in here, that’s all, and I need your help to get dressed.”
Miriam curtsied, and throwing two more logs on the fire, she stirred them about until a good flame was giving out plenty of heat to warm the great room through.
“Them weather’s broken, see, m’lady. Lord Drorgan was only saying there’s snow coming our way, and t’make sure we’s had plenty of firewood. Ye’ll be wanting your woolen surcoat, m’lady, to keep out the draft to them sensitive parts.”
Miriam giggled as she bustled about pulling out things from the trunks in the anteroom.
“And te think the steward’s daughter’s wedding is soon. I sure hope the snow holds off for them. It would be miserable, otherwise, and between you and me, m’lady, I don’t know what the hurry is. His lordship given his permission and all—unless the rumors are true, of course, and she’s with bairn already. Could you imagine the steward’s reaction?”
Rhonda managed to make appropriate noises to keep up with Miriam’s steady flow of gossip, not at all comfortable with the talk of unexpected pregnancies. Really, what was wrong with her today? She should have thought of all that before having sex with her dragon.
Thoughts of Drorgan were enough to make her pussy clench in need. Still slightly sore from their earlier activities, it seemed her body didn’t care. Despite the issues they so clearly had to talk about yet, her wayward hormones craved the touch of her dragon. In truth, Rhonda needed to see him, to wrap her arms around him and to hear him tell her that everything was going to be all right. She’d been half out of it, but she did remember whispering “I love you”, to him before she had to all intents and purposes passed out on him, but she did recall his surprise. She’d sensed his dragon’s reaction, and she just couldn’t be sure whether that had been shock or joy.
Drorgan was hard to read at the best of times, let alone when she was floating in post-orgasmic bliss. Then again, surely he wouldn’t have said those things to Geva, had he not meant for them to be a family, and that must mean that he wanted her for more than just the physical side, surely.
Not that he had outright said that to Geva. The little minx had admitted that she had been snooping around in his thoughts, before Drorgan had noticed and pulled the proverbial shutters down.
Miriam’s expectant look on her face, as she turned Rhonda to face the mirror on the wall, must mean she had missed something.
Fixing a smile on her face, Rhonda took a good, long, hard look at her reflection, and she pulled in a sharp breath.
Miriam had worked wonders with her hair, twisting it up in a complicated braid that left only a few tendrils framing her face. Her brown eyes were too wide and her face flushed as though she had run a marathon, and the deep purple of her dress, laced into the bodice at the front showed off her boobs. As per usual they looked massive, and she gratefully accepted the shawl Miriam handed her.
“It gets cold in them corridors, so you best cover the assets, m’lady. I’d lose it when you hit the library, though, ‘cause I reckon his lordship will be eating out of yer hand, when he sees you dressed like that.”
She grinned at Rhonda’s shake of her head.
“Drorgan is in the library then?” she asked.
“Aye, m’lady. He’s been back for some time, and engrossed in some old parchment like that turned up. I don’t understand how that happens, I tell ya. Anyway, he’s asked for ye to join him there.”
“Thank you, Miriam. I best do that then.”
With one last look at her reflection and the sleeping child on the bed, Rhonda squared her shoulders, and started the long trek from the solar to the library. She couldn’t help but feel that each step brought her closer to either doom or heaven. She guessed their long overdue talk would determine which one that was, because as much as she loved her dragon, she couldn’t stay with him, if he didn’t feel the same way about her.
Chapter Twelve
Legs spread, hands clasped behind his back, Drorgan stared unseeing out of the stained glass windows that graced this side of the library. Nothing but churning sea was in view as far the eye could see, and the sun was struggling to make it through the heavy cloud covering. Snow was definitely on the way and with it the harsh realities of a long hard winter.
After reading the scroll that had appeared in his library, Drorgan knew without the shadow of a doubt that there was no hope of escaping this realm. If his little dragon chose to stay with him, she would condemn herself to a life steeped in hardship. If she left… He didn’t even want to contemplate life without her. The mere thought made him feel as though his very soul tore in half.
The creaking of the doors at the opposite side of the library brought with it Rhonda’s scent, and Drorgan inhaled sharply to calm his agitated dragon before he turned around. Rhonda offered him a tentative smile, but it was the uncertainty that poured off her, which tugged at his heartstrings. Without thinking about how wise a move to touch her would be, right now, he opened his arms, and warmth flooded through his entire being when Rhonda all but ran into his embrace.
She snuggled into him, her soft curves a perfect counterfoil to the hard planes of his body, and it hit him anew. The rightness of it all. They fitted together, the perfect puzzle pieces, the other half of his soul, and he couldn’t b
ear to lose her.
As though Rhonda, too, had similar thoughts, she hugged him harder, and snuggled into his chest.
“I know we need to talk, but can you just hold me like this for a little while, please?”
His dragon hissed and snarled at the turmoil he sensed in his mate, and Drorgan sighed. Resting his chin on top of her head, he nodded, closed his eyes, and simply allowed them both this moment of peace. How long they stood lost in their own thoughts, seeking strength from each other, he couldn’t determine. Only that the connection between them pulsed and grew stronger. Like a living entity it wrapped around them, separated them from this reality, and Drorgan wasn’t entirely surprised to feel the tentative tendrils of Rhonda’s mind reaching out to his.
Another thing that shouldn’t be possible yet, but was, with his little human dragon mate.
Drorgan?
Yes, my little dragon?
Her gasp of surprise, both mental and physical trembled through him, and when she pushed against him, he reluctantly let her go. He didn’t need the mind meld to read her thoughts right now. Her confusion was plain to see. Arms wrapped around herself with her fingers entangled in the tassels on the edge of her shawl, she started pacing. The heel of her shoes echoed along the marble flooring of the library, as she took several staccato steps to the right, swung wound sharply, and then paced back again. Eyebrows drawn together in a frown, her cute little nose wrinkled and teeth worrying her bottom lip, she seemed deep in thought.
She also looked good enough to eat, and it was a measure of his own anxiety levels right now, that his cock remained flaccid. Certainly not the usual state of affairs around his mate. With a wry grin at his predicament, Drorgan pushed away from the windowsill he was leaning against and walked over to the writing desk, where Lasiandra’s scroll sat mocking him with her bold handwriting. Picking the ancient parchment off the polished oak desk, he held it out for Rhonda, and she skidded to a stop.
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