The Dragon in the Stone

by Doris O'Connor

  “Tell me, have you ever stayed at Castle Drorgan?” she asked.

  Dr. O’Byrne straightened up and smiled.

  “Oh yes, my wife and I celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary there only last weekend. We stayed in the master suite in the solar. Sinfully expensive and delightfully authentic. You can almost feel the weight of history in that place. I’m sure it’s one of the main reasons Castle Drorgan has become so successful. The new owners of the corporation have made a great job at reviving the business. They’re also huge benefactors to this hospital. Geva Drorgan sits on the board.”

  “Geva is alive? I mean, I … never mind.” Rhonda backtracked fast when Dr. O’Byrne showed professional concern again.

  “Very much so, why shouldn’t she be? I had the pleasure of meeting her at a charity function last Christmas. Fascinating young woman. One has to admire her drive, especially considering her disability. Right, I have other patients to see. Rest, Ms. Butterbaugh.”

  The doctor left the room, and Rhonda offered a wobbly smile to the nurse who was watching her intently.

  “You heard the doc. You just settle back, now, duck, and things will work out all right. They always do. The tea lady will be through soon. Delightful old dear, and a fountain of knowledge on the castle and its history.”

  “Thanks.”

  Rhonda settled back down on the covers with a sigh. In truth, even that little interaction had exhausted her. There was nothing she could do, after all, and to try to come to terms with the mess her life was now in was too bloody painful.

  She must have fallen asleep, because the squeak of a trolley woke her up with a start.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to wake you up. Was just going to leave you a cuppa. After your ordeal, you’ll need one I reckon.”

  Rhonda turned her head, and the silver haired old lady almost dropped the cup in her hand. Making the sign of the cross she squinted at her.

  “Holy Mary Mother of Jesus, you look just like her. Oh, the heavens, be still, my heart. I never thought I see the day…”

  The way she stared at her should have made Rhonda feel uncomfortable, but she didn’t sense any malice from this woman, quite the opposite. A familiar scent came off of her. Faint, but she carried with her the unmistakable odor of dragon. Many in Drorgan’s clan had been touched by the dragons at some point or another, and there was no doubt in Rhonda’s mind that this old woman carried dragon blood in her ancestry somewhere.

  “You know me?” she asked, trying her best to ignore the glimmer of hope spreading through her chest. It had been there ever since the mention of Geva. It couldn’t be her Geva, but her heart wasn’t listening to the rational side of her brain, and now this woman… What in hell was going on?

  “Aye, that I do, m’lady.”

  Rhonda’s mouth fell open in surprise when the old woman gave a little curtsy.

  “Well, I never had the pleasure to meet you in person, and I must say the portrait in the castle does not do you justice at all.”

  “Portrait?” Rhonda knew she sounded like a parrot, but what was this woman on about. There hadn’t been a portrait of her that she knew about. Sure, Drorgan had talked about having one fashioned, but that was all.

  “Aye, the Lady Geva painted it herself from memory, they say, when you disappeared.”

  “I? What?”

  Rhonda’s head started to hurt again, and she sank back against the covers.

  “Aye, m’lady, surely you remember. It must be just like yesterday for you. Then again you did take quite a tumble by all accounts if the stories passed down through the years are to be believed. You see my great, great… let’s just say too many greats on my mother’s side was your maid at that time. Very fond of your ladyship she was, and she always said you—”

  “Miriam.” Rhonda’s whisper interrupted the old lady, and she smiled.

  “Aye. That was her name, as it’s mine. The oldest girl in our family is always called Miriam so—”

  “But Miriam wasn’t part dragon, so how … did Drorgan…” Pain sliced through her heart at the thought of Drorgan with anyone else, but then again could she truly blame him? It had to have been, what six hundred years or so for him since then. A man as virile as he was would not stay celibate for long, but it still hurt like crazy, the thought of him with her maid…

  Mother, those thoughts are beneath you. I know you’re hurt, but Father would never do such a thing.

  Geva’s presence filled her mind, taking her breath away, and the rest of the room faded away when a very grown up Geva entered the room. With her long flowing blonde hair covering the scarred side of her face she looked breathtakingly beautiful, and far more important alive.

  Touching the little black box in her hand Geva addressed a flustered looking twenty-first century Miriam.

  “Thank you, Miriam. I can fill Lady Drorgan in on all the details. You best be getting on with your rounds.” The computer generated voice held a surprisingly strong resemblance to Geva’s real voice in her head, and Rhonda didn’t even try to stop her tears from falling.

  Miriam left her with a cup of tea, and having dipped her head, went back on her rounds. The bed depressed as Geva sat on it, further confirming that Rhonda was not having a pain medications induced dream. No, this was very much real.

  Yes, I am really here. We waited a long time to see you again.

  Geva took her hand in hers, and the strength of their connection filled her veins.

  Poor Mama, you must hurt something terrible. Father will be here soon to heal you.

  Rhonda jerked her hand away in surprise, as that glimmer of hope grew to blinding proportions in her head.

  “He’s alive, truly?”

  Geva rolled her eyes in a manner so reminiscent of the child Rhonda remembered that she had to laugh.

  “Very much so, my little dragon.”

  His scent and very presence hit Rhonda with the full force of a freight train, taking away her ability to breathe. Seeing Drorgan leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his massive chest, as his blue eyed gaze ate her alive, was too much to take in. Had she not been half sitting up on her hospital bed, she would have slid to the floor under his intense scrutiny. All the broken pieces of her soul lined back up with him.

  Dressed as he was in a designer suit, he looked just like she remembered him. Slightly older, more battle weary, and with hints of grey now in his dark hair, he was still her Drorgan. Shutting her eyes she opened her mind, and Rhonda gasped when Drorgan entered her consciousness. In that one moment she saw it all. His pain and despair when she fell through the veil. The years of misery, only tempered by Geva’s presence. His astonishment at finding other dragons still alive in his world, after one of them impregnated Miriam. Rhonda flinched in her thoughts, and her eyes flew open when Drorgan took her hand in his.

  “Yes, I should spank your behind for thinking, even for one second, that it would have been me. I have one dragon mate, my sweet, and that is you. I could never touch another woman after you.”

  “I’m sorry, I just don’t—”

  “Shh, little dragon.” Drorgan cupped her face and leaning down kissed the traces of her tears off her face. Every soft touch of his lips strengthened the connection between them, leaving behind heated awareness of the man she loved. By the time he reached her lips, Rhonda was desperate to feel his arms around her, but Drorgan withdrew after just a chaste brush of his lips over hers.

  He laughed ruefully at Rhonda’s moan of disappointment.

  Trust me, little dragon, there is nothing I’d like more than to climb onto that bed with you and ravish your body, after I healed your aches and pains, of course. Sadly that would expose who I really am, and this century hasn’t gotten any easier to live in as a dragon.

  He pulled away, adjusting himself with a rueful grin and then addressed Geva.

  “You’re on the board of this hospital. Go work your magic and see to it that Rhonda gets released ASAP, will you?
”

  Already on it, Papa. Don’t do anything with Mama that would make my position here untenable, will you now?

  Geva winked at Drorgan, blew a kiss to Rhonda, and glided out of the room. That was really the only way to describe it. Geva carried herself with an air of dignity far beyond the years she presented in her human form. To look at her anyone would think her to be in her mid-twenties at best. The reality, of course was, little Geva was over six hundred years old, at least. Those thought processes brought her headache back with a vengeance, and she moaned when Drorgan put his large hands either side of her head. Heat flared from the contact, and Rhonda breathed in the reassuring smell of sulfur as flames licked over her skin, and took away the pain.

  “Better, little one?”

  Drorgan smiled at her when she opened her eyes again, and she noticed with a start how much more pronounced the deep grooves around his nose were.

  She traced the lines with her fingertips and gasped when Drorgan took her finger in his mouth and bit down on it slightly, before he released her. There was a devilish gleam in his eyes, and Rhonda shook her head at him.

  “You heard Geva. Behave yourself, and thank you for taking away my headache, but you best not do anymore. It exhausts you.”

  “It’s nothing, little dragon, and I’ll recover soon enough now that I have you back with me. I missed you so fucking much. Six hundred years is a damn long time without the other half of your soul.”

  He rested his forehead against hers, and Rhonda breathed in his beloved scent.

  “I know. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to … but I couldn’t let her fall. How is she?” Drorgan pulled back, amusement dancing in the back of his fire licked irises now.

  “You talk as though I should know. It was a long time ago, little one, but if it helps she lived a long life. She became the first female blacksmith in fact and still managed to pop out a brood of twelve kids along the way. An impressive feast by any standards.”

  Rhonda laughed along with him, but there was sadness in that, too, especially when Drorgan touched her lower abdomen. His fingers tensed, and he cocked his head to one side as though he was listening. A slow smile crept over his face, and Rhonda’s heart beat faster at the awed wonder she read in his face now.

  “What? You’re scaring me here, Drorgan?”

  When he looked at her, she was shocked to see the sheen of tears in his eyes. Wrapping his fist in her hair he pulled her toward him for a kiss so passionate it took her breath away. This was nothing like their earlier kiss. This was a brand, a promise for the future, and filled with so much love and hope she realized that their life had just changed forever.

  When he finally let her come up for air, Rhonda felt rather lightheaded and also ridiculously happy.

  “Thank you, little dragon. I knew you could do it. I told you, didn’t I?”

  “Do what?” Rhonda’s befuddled brain couldn’t quite take in what he was trying to tell her.

  “Ah, I see, you’ve figured it out.” Dr. O’Byrne’s cheerful voice made them pull apart, and the possessive growl of Drorgan’s dragon filled the small room, when the doctor stepped up close enough to touch. Dr. O’Byrne’s eyes widened, but he stuck his hand out anyway.

  “I was just coming to tell Ms. Butterbaugh here of the good news. I’m assuming it is good news. We got the test results back of the blood tests we did, and they confirm it, and….” His voice trailed off when Drorgan didn’t take his hand, and Dr. O’Byrne looked from Drorgan to a dumbstruck Rhonda concern edged on his features.

  “Oh, dear, have I put my foot in it? I just assumed, given how I found you that—”

  “Your assumptions would be correct. I am the baby’s father, and my wife and I will be leaving this establishment just as soon as you can get her discharge papers signed. So, see to that, will you?”

  Geva’s soft gasp from the doorway mirrored Rhonda’s own astonishment at Drorgan’s words. After all he’d never once mentioned marriage to her back in his time. In the eyes of his world they were married already. They were dragon mates, which was a far more lasting commitment than any piece of paper ever could be.

  “Your wife?” Dr. O’Byrne’s eyes widened, and Drorgan gave a short laugh.

  “Yes, or at least she will be, just as soon as I can get her out of this damn hospital and back to Castle Drorgan and by my side where she belongs. Where all three of them belong.”

  He winked at Rhonda when he said that, and the good doctor looked flabbergasted.

  “Twins? Well, that is. So you knew then? I wish you’d have said. We’ll have to arrange a scan to make sure all is well after that tumble your … err … Ms. Rhonda took.”

  “There is no need. My sons are fine.”

  Rhonda’s vison swam with tears as the enormity of what he was saying dawned on her.

  Sons? We’re having twins, but how do you know?

  Drorgan squeezed her hand in a silent gesture of comfort.

  I picked up their heartbeats just then. It is very early days, my little dragon, but my sons are strong, I can tell. Trust me on this. I love you.

  Rhonda didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded and let that astonishing thought take hold. She was going to be a mother. Not only that, but she was in her time, about to marry her very own dragon, who it appeared was head of the Drorgan Corporation and thus filthy rich by any standards.

  It was somewhat comical to see Dr. O’Byrne struggle for words when Geva filled him in on exactly those details, and by the time he left to organize her discharge papers, she was as confounded as he was with the information overload.

  “I’ll bring the car round,” Geva said and dropped a kiss on Rhonda’s forehead. After a moment’s hesitation she placed a hand on Rhonda’s abdomen, closed her eyes and smiled.

  My brothers.

  That thought came through loud and clear, and Drorgan smiled his agreement at Geva before she left.

  When his intense blue gaze connected with Rhonda’s she shook her head in wonder.

  “Is it all truly over now? Are we free from the curse for good? Can it be that easy?”

  Drorgan sighed, and ran a weary hand over his face.

  “I wouldn’t say having to wait six hundred years to find you again was easy, little dragon.” He smiled at her murmured apology.

  “However, I would do it again in a heartbeat. I love you, Rhonda Butterbaugh.”

  “I love you, too, Lord Drorgan, so much.”

  A gust of wind came in through the crack in the open window. It almost sounded like a sigh.

  Penance paid.

  The End

  www.dorisoconnor.com

  Other Books by Doris O'Connor:

  www.evernightpublishing.com/doris-oconnor

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  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com