Claimed by a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 9) - Paranormal Fairytale Romance

by Alisa Woods

  He could feel Tajael’s angel magic flooding her system, sealing the wound below his palms. The bleeding stopped. Leksander reached out with his fae senses to the child within… and the baby’s essence still burned bright. Fae and dragon and angeling combined. This child was truly a miracle.

  Erelah pulled in a deep breath, and when Leksander looked, Tajael had pulled away. He looked drained—cheeks hollowed and darkness under his eyes—but a smile was on his face.

  Tajael gave him a nod just as Erelah breathed out and opened her eyes.

  “My love.” Leksander wiped the blood from his hands and found hers so he could hold them. She squeezed back and tilted her head enough to smile at him. The relief was so intense, Leksander almost collapsed. He leaned against the couch and managed to stay upright. “Holy magic, woman. You almost scared the life out of me.”

  She let her head fall back, but the smile remained. “You’re not allowed to die yet, dragon prince. I’m not finished with you.”

  He huffed a strangled laugh and grinned and then just shook his head.

  She tilted her head back further. “You gave too much,” she said to Tajael.

  “I would have given more had you needed it,” he said with a gentle smile.

  Any other time in his life, Leksander would have felt a burning jealousy with the smiles they were exchanging. Now, he felt nothing but gratitude. And relief. And an inarticulate joy.

  They were safe—at least, as safe as they could be.

  Erelah was alive. The baby lived.

  All was going to be well.

  Erelah picked up her head and frowned at him. “I think I have need of food.” She seemed perplexed by this, but Leksander couldn’t have loved those words any more.

  He laughed. “Your wish is my command, princess of the House of Smoke.”

  “Just for a moment,” Erelah pleaded. “What harm can come of it?”

  “No.” Leksander kissed her on the forehead then scooted down the couch to kiss her belly. She was two weeks into the pregnancy, and it had become very noticeable. “You can speak to him at the door.”

  “It would only take a second to allow Tajael inside,” she reasoned. She knew Leksander could drop the wards any time he liked.

  “And only a second for Elyon to find his way here.” Leksander scowled and rose up from the couch where they had been cuddled after their latest round of lovemaking. He was naked, per usual, but she couldn’t help admiring the way his muscular bottom flexed as he strode across the great room.

  “There are three levels of wards,” she tried again. “Elyon would have to break through all three at once. And in that tiny stroke of time. It’s very improbable.”

  He stopped at a small desk on the far side of the room. “I’m not dropping the wards,” he said without looking at her, digging for something in one of the drawers.

  As he strode back to her, she ran a hand over her belly. The baby sang quietly in response, a tiny angelsong that spoke of his contentment. Leksander had kept her in a state of bliss all week, ever since she recovered from the self-performed surgery that was necessary to excise the shadow from her baby. She had to stop it before it could fuse with the child… or it would kill the baby in the trying.

  She knew of the dangers of dropping the wards. She simply judged them to be low. Whereas Leksander was unwilling to take any risk, no matter how small.

  He tossed her the phone he had apparently retrieved from the desk. He had called his brothers intermittently over the last week—even used the screen in his bedroom for live video conversations—all so they could keep him apprised of the developments in the keep, including that Markos had bunked a small legion of Guardian angels in amongst the dragons. Which was precisely what Erelah wanted to talk to Tajael about.

  Leksander gestured to the phone. “You can call Leonidas. He’ll track down Tajael and get him over here. You can talk at the door for whatever you need.” Then he kneeled on the couch and kissed her toes, her ankles, her shins… “Or you could simply let me distract you until you forget all about the world outside my lair.”

  She pulled up her legs, away from his tempting touch. “I know Tajael. He would keep any concerns from me that he judged I didn’t need to know… unless I press him.”

  Leksander sat back, mild approval on his face. “Tajael is a wiser angeling than I knew.”

  “He is stubborn and occasionally untruthful. Just like you,” she teased.

  He gave a look of offense. “When have I been untruthful?”

  She rose up from the couch, phone clutched in her hand, then bent to kiss him briefly on the nose. “Only the decades-long silence in which you did not profess your love for me.”

  He scowled. “Other than that.” Then he tried to capture her around the waist, but she danced back out of his reach.

  She braced her hands on her hips, standing naked before him. “Are there any other untruths you wish to confess at this time?”

  His face blanched. “Um… no?” But she could see the calculation on his face.

  Which only made her laugh—softly, so he wouldn’t take offense. Then she conjured a training toga so she would be dressed to meet Tajael—and less of a temptation for her mate—and sauntered forward to climb onto his lap on the couch. She straddled him, and his eyes lit up with interest. If she were still naked, she felt sure they would be joined before she could get a word out. Even the toga was still amenable to that purpose.

  “Your soul is pure and righteous, dragon prince of the House of Smoke,” she proclaimed. Then she kissed him briefly. “Whatever small thing you think you may have hidden from me matters not next to the shining of your heart.”

  He gazed up at her and gripped her hips to bring her closer. “You can see it, can’t you? My soul.”

  “Yes.” And she could. All angelings were gifted with that discernment from their angel side. It was what made humanity so alluring, the bright goodness of their souls. And dragons as well, at least the righteous ones of the House of Smoke. “You are good to the core, dragon prince. I’ve loved you from the beginning for it.”

  He growled and slipped his hand under her shirt. “Show me your love, angel girl.”

  She chuckled. They had been doing nothing but showing their love for the endless hours of the last week. She scooted back off his lap, working free of his grasp. He did not readily let her go—his erection was standing proud, and they had just finished minutes ago. “You will not die if we wait a short spell,” she said.

  “Don’t be so sure!” he called after her as she crossed the room.

  She laughed again as she lightly ascended the stairs, heading for the bedroom and a shower. Her angel nature—the one that allowed her little sleep and less food—normally meant she had little need for showering as well. But endless lovemaking brought out her human side all too thoroughly, and she wanted to refresh before meeting Tajael at the door.

  She quickly texted Leksander’s brother, Leonidas, and asked him to arrange for Tajael to come to the door of the lair so they could speak. Then she stepped into the expansive shower that Leksander had just off his bedroom. She magicked away her clothes, and as the warm water tumbled over her skin, she remembered the first time her body had been awakened to these pleasures that Leksander brought out of her. Here, in his shower, she had learned she could pleasure herself as well. What an enlightenment! Back then she still lived in fear of turning shadow, but if there were anything the last two weeks of being mated to Leksander had proven, it was that Lust would not be her downfall. Not a second time. Love had rescued her.

  But that didn’t mean she was immune to all the Sins.

  Pride was the one she felt bubbling deep within her, growing stronger each day as her child grew. Pride that she among angelings would be the one to bear him. That she could dip into the forbidden ecstasies of love and remain in the light. The fate of the two realms—mortal and immortal—rested on her ability to deliver this child to Leksander, and she had already rescued the baby from
shadow with her own blade! Surely, angelings would sing of her for centuries to come. Surely, others would be tempted to follow her path.

  And that… that was the danger she saw. The reason she needed to speak to Tajael. To take the true measure of the impact of this miraculous pregnancy. And perhaps garner his help in restoring her Humility because she feared if it kept slipping away… she might find herself Falling before she realized what was happening.

  The water was cool and wonderful on her heated skin. The longer she carried the child, the stronger he became, the more the fiery heat of angel and dragon burned inside her. The shower was wet and sensual, but the endless lovemaking left her with no desire to pleasure herself. She finished the shower, magicked the water away, and returned to a properly clothed state. Although, even now, she was painfully aware of how bare the standard angeling toga was—two strips that covered her breasts, a golden chain between them, and a short skirt draped over her hips. Leksander had requested more than once that she wear it while he was taking her, so she was very aware of the possibilities it posed. But Tajael knew nothing of this—he was innocent of the kind of sexual awakening she’d experienced.

  At least, she assumed that was true.

  He had been in shadow for a time, so anything was possible.

  But more on point was the status of the rest of the angelings of Markos’s Dominion. And on that, Tajael should have a keen insight. One she hoped to gain.

  By the time she returned downstairs, Leksander was snoring on the couch.

  She had to physically cover her mouth to stifle her laugh. He insisted so fervently on their lovemaking, she forgot he still needed rest. And it was well that he would get some now, while she conferred with Tajael. She didn’t want Leksander to worry about her worries.

  The front door of the lair was around the corner and down the short entranceway—far enough that if their voices were kept low, they shouldn’t wake Leksander. When she reached it, Tajael was already there.

  “Erelah!” he exclaimed, straightening up from where he leaned on the doorframe. “Are you well?” His gaze bounced up and down her body, lingering on her belly, which protruded through the skimpy wrappings of her toga.

  “I am well. And the baby, too.” She smiled and fluttered light finger-taps on her belly. The baby trilled a small angelsong in response.

  “He sings!” Tajael’s eyes seemed ready to bulge out of their sockets.

  Her smile grew, and she felt that dangerous Pride surge again. She forced herself to seriousness, and remembering the need for quiet, dropped her voice. “Leksander is sleeping. Let’s not wake him.”

  Tajael nodded fervently, his gaze still fixed on the soul of the child inside her.

  “Tell me, Tajael,” she said quietly. “How goes it with Markos in the keep? And his Guardians? Are the dragons accommodating? Is there trouble I should know about? Hold nothing back, or I will make you pay later.”

  His gaze snapped up. “The Truth, then?”

  “As you know it,” she insisted.

  A frown settled on his face. “The impact of this baby continues to reverberate throughout the Dominion.”

  She nodded, encouraging him to go on.

  He pressed his lips into a grimace.

  “Tajael,” she admonished.

  “Markos hasn’t said anything outright,” he said. “That concerns me the most.”

  She leaned back. “I don’t understand.”

  Tajael drew in a breath then dropped his gaze to his hands, which clenched one another. He wore the same toga as normal, as all angelings. If she were attracted to any man other than Leksander, she would see the appeal. Bright ice-blue eyes, earnest and intelligent. Short blond hair, as pale as his snow-white wings. The physique of quintessential human male beauty… only Tajael was unique in carrying a tattoo on his arm, a dragon, in addition to the markings of his time while in Elyon’s Regiment. His toga did nothing to hide any of his masculine beauty, although she doubted he was aware of that. And while she couldn’t sense it through the wards, she knew his soul shone even more beautiful and righteous. Most of all, Tajael was accomplished in the social ways of both humans and angels… and angelings who were a mixture of both. She trusted his read of the situation if only she could persuade him to share it.

  “I am trapped here, Tajael,” she appealed to him, gesturing to the invisible barrier of the wards between them. “Leksander shields me from all news, good or bad. He wishes me to forget the outside world even exists, but you and I both know that I cannot. Please. Tell me the Truth of what is happening.”

  Finally, he dropped his hands and held her with his gaze. “It started back in the Dominion. Yours and Leksander’s constant mating—”

  “Lovemaking,” she interrupted him with a frown.

  He tipped his head. “Lovemaking. It was very much noticed. And… how can I say this?” He grimaced. “Studied?”

  She drew back. “How so?”

  He made a face of concern. “There was much talk of what precise activities you were engaged in. How the acts were performed. What it… what it felt like for you and how you were able to stay in the light.”

  “Oh.” This was far worse than she assumed. In Truth, she hadn’t given much thought to it.

  “Yes,” Tajael agreed with her unspoken concern. “One could easily say there was a fascination about it that possessed most of the angelings and even Markos himself.”

  “And you?” she asked, her curiosity suddenly piqued.

  He frowned. “I’ve spent time in shadow, Erelah. I know what orgies look like.”

  “Oh,” she said again. He was blanking her mind with all this. “But you say Markos has said nothing about it?”

  “Nothing of concern,” Tajael said. “He was curious at first as well, asking after you and Leksander, wishing to know what activities you were engaged in, under the guise of concern for your well-being.”

  “What did you tell him?” Now she was just frankly curious herself.

  “That it’s often difficult to tell between the dying and the orgasming?” He gave her a look like the whole thing was ridiculous. Which it was.

  She giggled then covered her mouth.

  Tajael scowled at her, so she worked harder to kill her smile. “But then it got worse,” Tajael said, dead serious. “The attack of the shadow angelings convinced those of Markos’s Dominion that the cause of protecting you must be particularly righteous. Otherwise, why would the shadow seek to destroy you? That they almost succeeded, but you valiantly made sacrifices of pain and danger to save the child? Convinced them even more. Nearly every angeling vied to be among your Guardians, not only to be near you and Leksander and a chance to learn more about these… activities… but because they would be defending the House of Smoke.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing? I mean, wishing to defend the dragons who defend humanity?” But the whole thing was sinking a dark feeling through her. Angelings of light obsessed with sex? Even as none of them had the slightest inkling of the power of Lust or how Love was required to stay in the light?

  “If that were all it were, yes,” Tajael said darkly. “But since they’ve come to the House of Smoke, they’ve been mingling with dragons. Angelings and dragons, Erelah. It’s not unknown in the Dominion how sexually-driven dragons can be.”

  Erelah’s eyes went wide. “Have any of them Fallen?” Had it already begun? Her child hadn’t even been born, and already the dark forces of Vice were tempting angelkind in a way they never had before.

  “No. Not yet. But Markos chose unwisely.”

  Erelah’s eyebrows lifted. For an angeling to question the wisdom of an angel… “How so?”

  “Most of the Guardians are female,” he said tersely. “The dragons of the House of Smoke are male. It cannot be a mistake. I feel Markos is deliberately tempting the fates with this mingling. And I’ve found more than one angeling in the company of a very Lustful dragon in the less-traveled parts of the keep. It’s all I can do to keep watch over t
hem.”

  Erelah shook her head slowly. “I haven’t even delivered the baby, Tajael.”

  “I know. And when you do, if both you and the baby live…” He shook his head. “The Fall could begin right here in the House of Smoke.”

  She blinked. “What should I do?”

  Tajael gave an elaborate shrug. “This is not your problem, Erelah. Your mate is right about that. You must deliver this child. The treaty depends on it. I’ve vowed to protect you both, and I will give every last measure to that. In the meantime, I’ll try to keep all of angelkind from going mad with Lust.” His face twisted up in disgust.

  She tried not to laugh, but there was something intrinsically funny about it. She could just see Tajael flying through the keep, hectoring the female angelings not to give into the temptations of the flesh in the form of the intensely masculine dragons roaming the keep.

  Tajael started to reach out like he wanted to lay a hand on her belly, but he then jerkily pulled back, apparently just remembering the wards. “You and Leksander have wrought a miracle here on earth. You’ve each gone to great lengths to love one another. You’ve each been willing to sacrifice yourselves for the other. Your love is bright and shining and True. Hold fast to that and bring this child into the world. This folly with the dragons is just another Vice, like every other that angelings of light need to guard against. Perhaps we should institute Penance rooms here in the keep to aid them.”

  Once again, Erelah had to hold back her laugh. “I’m not sure that would work.”

  He sighed. “Regardless, it is not your concern. There, I’ve told you the Truth. Now worry no more and return to your mate. Let me handle what goes on outside the wards. You ensure everything goes right inside.”

  And in that, he made complete sense. “You are the best sort of friend, Tajael.”

  “I live to serve.” He bowed his head, but then he gave her a small smile.

  She waved him off and closed the door, hurrying back to see if they’d woke Leksander. He was still on the couch, but instead of snoring… he was growling. Face down, his body twitched, and the growling grew deeper. He was having some kind of dream, and not a pleasant one.