Dragon Ensnared_A Viking Dragon Fairy Tale

by Isadora Montrose

  “That was your ring I found in the stream?” he checked.

  “Yes.”

  “And was it enchanted as Lexi feared?”

  She nodded. “Just a little love spell.” She held her fingers apart the thickness of a hair.

  “You wished me to fall in love with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I want what the princess has. A warm house, a husband, and a baby.”

  A harmless enough ambition. “And will you love me in return?”

  She went back to wringing her hands. “I don’t know. Perhaps when I open Hel’s gift and my soul is restored,” she said hopefully. “But the goddess said I was not to open the box until I was assured of your love. And I do not believe you love me yet.”

  She was beautiful, desirable, and he was sincerely grateful to her. Was that love? He thought not. But he certainly owed her big time. “Are you indeed a virgin?” he asked her again.

  “I am.”

  “Then Iliana, I claim you as my fated mate.” He had expected that momentous vow to cause the northern lights to dance, but nothing changed. Perhaps the elders were mistaken. More likely he had put his faith in fairy tales.

  “What does that mean?” she asked wide-eyed.

  He grasped her elbows and looked down into fathomless black eyes. The eyes of the soulless. “It means that I will lie with you and transform you into a dragoness. That I will marry you and give you a home and a child. Is that not what you want of me?”

  She nodded. Swallowed hard. Hope illuminated her beautiful face, animating it for once. “Except for the part about becoming a dragon. I don’t think I want to become a dragon, Jareth. I just want to be human all the time,” she explained earnestly.

  “It’s not within my power to take your virginity and not transform you, Iliana. No transformation means no children.”

  Her face fell. “Not even one?”

  “Not even one,” he assured her.

  He almost wanted to smile at her distress. She was such a strange mixture of ignorance and wisdom. Tenderness warred with gratitude in his heart. Tenderness won. Perhaps uttering his vow had been as lifechanging as he had always been warned. Or perhaps he wished to believe so.

  “And will you love me, Jareth Lindorm, when I am a dragoness?”

  “So I have always been told. It is said that once a dragon transforms a maiden, he loves her forever. And she him.” He simply wasn’t sure that he believed the legends. And he wasn’t about to begin his marriage with lies, however comforting she might find them.

  “Do you think that dragon magic works on nixies?”

  “I don’t have the faintest idea, my dear.” He pulled her into his arms. They had time for a kiss to seal their betrothal.

  She was rigid in his arms, but suddenly she softened and returned his kisses with enthusiasm. In fact, if she became any more enthusiastic, they were going to do the deed here on the open tundra with the wind whipping across the snowy plain. He lifted his head.

  He was looking down into the soft and pretty hazel eyes of a stranger. Long brown hair – straight brown hair – blew in the wind. The freezing wind. He was embracing a nude woman, and he was as naked as she.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Reykjanes Ridge, Iceland

  North Atlantic Ocean

  Deep in the North Atlantic a wooden cask that had lain undisturbed for untold centuries began to spin like a top. It shed its crust of barnacles and algae and slowly rose to the surface as though suddenly restored to buoyancy. The currents took it and swept it away, bobbing gently.

  It rode the waves like a portly dolphin, moving steadily northward as the Gulf Stream bore it along under a cloudless sky. Further and further it drifted toward the string of volcanic islands in the Icelandic archipelago.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Severn Island

  Lexi~

  Two weeks had already passed. It was obvious that Jareth and the nixie were not returning. The more Lexi pondered, the less likely it seemed that Iliana had drawn Jareth into a trap. The nixie’s desire for a husband had been sincere enough, if misapplied to a dragon lord. She had no motive to harm Jareth.

  The Eldest had declared his certainty that Jareth would return with the nixie, but Lexi did not believe. She thought that either they had both fallen in battle, or the nixie alone had survived and had not dared to return to face her liege lady’s wrath.

  Theo was downcast, the day of the declaration ceremony had come and gone, and still there was no word from Jareth. No Lindorm would blow off the Eldest or the Council of the Guild of Dragons. It followed that Jareth had not communicated because he was incapable.

  Theo was already blaming himself for not remaining by Jareth’s side to confront whatever his cousin had been pursuing. Although that would have left Lexi and Sofie in the thick of the action. In danger. But illogically her husband was second-guessing himself because of his sorrow.

  He went out at every opportunity to search the area. Yesterday, he had received a third-degree burn on his hand from attempting to retrieve the hilt of a sword from the sea bed. Whether it was from a blade wielded by Iliana or her adversary, or something unrelated, they had no way to know. All Theo had been able to tell Lexi was that before he could drop it, the hilt had melted his dive glove and scorched his palm.

  From the first, Uncle Thorvald had decreed that the Declaration of Mate Hunt in France would proceed as if nothing were amiss. There were other Lindorms who were to announce their search for mates this year. As Treasurer of the Council, Lord Lindorm had duties he could not shirk, whatever his personal grief.

  Lady Lindorm had seconded his orders. Those were two tough old dragons. Aunt Inge had permitted herself some tears and then announced that she would of course host this year’s bachelors at their chateau in the Loire, as was their tradition. There would be time enough to mourn after the Declaration and Lady Lindorm’s house party were over.

  Inge’s fortitude had not however prevented her from calling Severn Island each day for an update. Lexi knew that every phone call ripped at Theo’s pride and broke his heart anew. Aunt Inge was of course always immaculate. But even over a video feed, Lexi could detect that she was using more foundation than usual to conceal the ravages of weeping.

  Whatever the Eldest said, however optimistic he claimed to be, his wife mourned her adopted child as dead. And it was really all that dratted nixie’s fault. And since Iliana was Lexi’s vassal, ultimately it was Lexi’s fault. She was responsible for Jareth’s untimely death.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Iliana~

  This time when Jareth kissed her, Iliana felt totally frozen. Cold inside and out. How she wanted to accept that he would marry her. But she knew she was bound by her promise to Lexi. She had vowed to love him before she could belong to him. She dared not be an oath breaker. She reached into her pocket and flicked opened the box Hel had given her.

  And sighed in relief. The desire she had felt for Jareth’s strong and handsome body turned into something more. Something warmer. It had to be love. She pressed back against his lips and when he parted his, she ventured to taste him as he had tasted her. Excitement hummed through her whole body. It was a warm feeling.

  Yet he pulled away from her and stared down at her in horror. Suddenly she was freezing cold. She became aware that they were both standing naked, barefoot in the snow. She still held the ivory casket in her hand, but nothing else. Jareth looked appalled.

  Rán’s boast that she had bestowed beauty on Iliana and Myst returned to her. “I have lost my beauty, haven’t I?” she whispered stricken. She was ugly, and Jareth did not, could not, love her.

  “You do look different,” Jareth admitted. “But what concerns me is that we are both turning blue. Be a good girl and put our clothes back on.”

  She swallowed hard. Concentrated. Nothing. She felt no power. “I can’t. I am a mortal now.”

  “Shift.” He pulled her against his warm chest and rubbed
his hands briskly over her freezing arms and back. “I don’t feel the cold – yet – but I will. This is not the place I would have chosen to transform my mate. Do you understand me, Iliana?”

  “No. Am I still beautiful to you?”

  “If you like blue lips and mottled skin, you’re gorgeous,” he snarled. “Oh, no.” He yanked her back against his body. “You’re not going anywhere, woman. You stick close to me, or you’ll freeze. We are going to consummate our relationship right here, right now. And then we are going to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  She was baffled by his words. How could they dodge Hel? His anger cut her newfound soul. She wanted to cry. Jareth did not love her. She had disobeyed the goddess and lost her magic all for nothing.

  He lifted her by the waist. His hands burned her chilly skin. “Put your feet on mine,” he ordered.

  She obeyed him. Immediately her soles began to thaw. They had been blessedly numb, now they tingled painfully. He kissed her again. She tried to kiss him back but she was too cold.

  “Shift,” he muttered against her stiff lips. “I’m going to put myself inside of you, Iliana, no preliminaries, before we both freeze.”

  He wished to rut now? Here in the snow? She gulped. “I will always obey you, Jareth Lindorm,” she vowed.

  He kissed her forehead. His voice gentled. “This may hurt.” His fingers reached for her sex and spread her folds.

  A trickle of excitement followed his probing fingers, although she was now too cold to feel much. “Perhaps it would be best,” she suggested, “If you just turned me into a dragoness?”

  “Yeah.” He raised her by her buttocks. “Put your legs around my waist. This may hurt, but I will do better next time.”

  Her limbs were stiff and aching with cold but she managed to circle his hips. Her thighs warmed painfully. He stuffed his thing into her. It was as if he had put an icicle inside her. A huge icicle. Truly the skalds did not lie when they named it the drill-of-the-hill-by-the-legs. His borer was certainly drilling her.

  He kissed her forehead. “Sorry,” he grunted as he began to move.

  She had thought this part would be better. At least for him. All she felt was a sense of being ripped open by a thing too big for her. Bitter disappointment spread through her freezing flesh. She ached with cold and woe. Tears trickled down her face.

  But she had pledged obedience. She could bear this. She clung to Jareth’s shoulders and leaned forward into his heat determined to endure. At least she was growing warmer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Jareth~

  He felt the precise moment of Iliana’s transformation. One moment he was trying to make love to a weeping wax effigy, and the next heat flushed Iliana’s body and she thawed into a supple and willing partner. Her aura began to resonate with his. Thank goodness. Coupling with a cold, stiff woman had felt obscene.

  He kissed her again. Her eagerness had returned and she responded to his suckling tongue with advances of her own. This was all happening too fast for a virgin. For a pair of virgins. But even dragons could not vanquish hypothermia in human form in subzero temperature for long.

  He did not know what had possessed her to ignore Hel’s warning, but he had to deal with the consequences or they would die after all. Now that she was transformed, they had a sporting chance, even though he was starting to feel the cold settling into his core.

  Iliana was nowhere near ready to come, but he let his climax take him. He held her closer as he flooded her passage with his semen. Her breasts pressed harder into his chest and she kept rocking her pelvis, urging him on. But sadly he was done.

  He gave her one last kiss. “It’s done,” he said. He still felt a surge of delight, but it was obvious it was not shared.

  “Oh.” Her voice was almost inaudible. “And now I have a baby?” she asked hopefully.

  “Maybe.” Was a child all she cared about? “Now you are a dragoness. We have to fly home as quickly as we can. You may be too small to make it all the way,” he warned. “You might have to ride on my back.”

  “Are you sure?” she whispered.

  “Sure that you are a dragoness?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I feel odd. But not scaly.”

  “You aren’t in dragon form yet. You’re used to becoming a fish or a turtle or whatnot, aren’t you?”

  She brightened. “Yes.” Her eyes shut. She remained clinging to his torso. She shook her head. “Nothing.” Fresh tears leaked from her eyes and fell to the ground like a shower of pebbles.

  That was reassuring. He hugged her. “You’re crying diamonds, Iliana. That means that for sure you are a dragoness. Try again. I’m going to put you down and transform myself. But I can’t go back and forth between dragon and man. I need to save my strength for the flight home.”

  “All right.” She sounded scared.

  He took a moment to scoop up her tears and put them into her little box. Her first tears were a treasure beyond price. “We may have to leave this behind, but we can return for it.”

  She shook her head. Now that she was not pressed up against his body she was starting to shiver again. Her lovely breasts were purple with cold. “We must leave it as a gift for the goddess, to thank her for returning my soul. Besides, without my magic, I doubt we could find the Gateway to Hel again.”

  “As you wish.” He allowed himself to become a dragon. If all else failed, he could let her warm herself by his breath. He just hoped he had enough control not to incinerate his bride. But here on the tundra there was not so much as a stick of wood to make her a fire.

  She crouched as he had done and her metamorphosis began. He was sorry to see more tears fall from her eyes as the agony of her first change broke her bones and reformed them. He had hoped for a gentler introduction to both making love and her first change.

  It seemed to be taking her a long time. But then what did he know of transforming women? Only what he had been told. And his cousins tended to dwell on the beauty and perfection of their fated mates and glide over the actual process of turning them into dragonesses.

  Gradually her feet and hands became the clawed front and rear paws of a dragon. She was going to be green, he thought, as her arms and legs became scaly. An iridescent tail sprouted and grew a sharp tip. Poison dripped from it and blackened the snow. Shift on a crooked stick. He took a step backward.

  Had he told Iliana that she would have a venomous tail dart? If he wasn’t careful she would kill him. And then she bellowed with either pain or rage as pale gray wings sprouted from her torso. Fire licked past him and the air sizzled. He leapt out of the way.

  Why in the name of Thor had no one told him how dangerous it was to transform your mate? Why the heck had his cousins gone on and on about the transcendental bliss of it? Well, maybe if you satisfied your mate, this whole experience was easier. What a foul beginning to the rest of their lives.

  Iliana’s scaly green legs darkened to a deep teal. Her wings softened to the color of sea foam. Her face lengthened and great teeth filled her snout. Smoke drifted from her nostrils and her horns and tail dart glittered as blue as his scales.

  She wasn’t as small as he had feared, but her wings were still too stubby to be able to fly far. And her tail, while a weapon of mate destruction, was too short to serve as an adequate rudder. He launched himself into the air and circled overhead calling to her.

  It took her several tries to get aloft. A maiden flight was always easier from a tower* or a cliff, but they were stuck with flat tundra. He tried to show her how to angle her wings in order to catch the air currents, but she continued to flap.

  Not that flapping was wrong. But you could go farther and faster and save your energy by using your wings as a sail. Although dragon scales were diamond hard, their wings were leathery. Dragon wings could expand so they could use the force of the air currents instead of sheer muscle power to steer, and increase and decrease speed.

  Jareth had had twelve years to learn how to fly. Iliana had not h
ad twelve minutes. He could not risk letting her fly over the sea. Yet she was not so small that carrying her would not slow him down. But what choice did he have? Leaving her behind to fend for herself was not an option.

  He landed and crouched until Iliana clambered clumsily onto his back. Her talons bit painfully into his shoulders and haunches as she steadied herself. She was about the size of a dairy cow, but probably lighter. Dragons were descended from birds so their bones were hollow. But it would still be a challenge to fly hundreds of miles with her on his back.

  He would have to remember not to pitch or roll too sharply lest he dump her into the ocean. Keeping low would not be a problem, although maintaining altitude might. He had to remember that she would be scared. He just hoped she kept her tail dart well away from his flanks.

  Since they would no longer be invisible, getting back to Severn Island would probably be awkward. He would have to stay low to avoid aircraft and find places for them to hole up during the day to avoid human eyes. If only he knew where they were.

  The flight north had taken a long time. Far longer than it should have, even for a relatively small dragon. His first priority was to circle until he found a landmark. After that he would be more likely to know where they were.

  As he made his first cautious turn, Iliana’s talons locked onto his shoulder muscles, skewering them. He ignored the pain and soared as high as he could on the cold current. Surprisingly he recognized the coastline almost immediately. He marked his course, drifted lower and set off towards the place he knew.

  Flying was much easier without the countess. The air was cold and thin, and there were of course no thermals to lift his wings, yet it was far less work. That was good news. But those energy bars would not take them far. He mentally reviewed places where they could safely land and find food.

  What on earth or in Hel had possessed his mate to open that box before they got home? He was doomed not to understand her.

  *Dragon’s Confession