A Dragon's Baby: A Paranormal Pregnancy Romance (Platinum Dragons Book 1)

by Lucy Fear

  “Yet it must be important for him to have mentioned it so many times,” Rowan said thoughtfully. An idea crossed her mind, but it was so ridiculous and horrifying that she wanted to dismiss it immediately. Unfortunately, the longer she thought about it, the more it made a terrible sort of sense.

  She pursed her lips. “I’m going to check Father’s journals. Perhaps he made mention of this Lord Kennet, or left a clue about what he was working on yesterday.”

  “Normally, I would tell you to respect your father’s privacy, but in this case, I can only wish you luck. We will not be able to keep news of his collapse quiet forever.”

  It didn’t take her long to find the first reference to ‘Lord Kennet’. She’d found a journal lying open on the worktable almost as soon as she’d entered the room, and as she began to skim the notes, she saw several references to this lord and some sort of contract. The more she read, the more certain she was. Her father, despite his constant warnings to her, and anyone else who would listen, and his long abiding hatred of the Aos Si, had made some sort of pact with a Lord of the Fair Folk.

  Whatever he had gained from the bargain was moot, for now it seemed Lord Kennet had come to collect. The most likely conclusion was that her father was currently serving in the court of this lord somewhere in the Otherworld.

  As to what could actually be done about it, Rowan hadn’t the foggiest idea. Perhaps she could ask someone from the College, but she felt that ought to be a last resort. She could only imagine the chaos it would create if people heard what had happened. However, she also knew that trying to oppose a powerful Aos Si on her own would be suicidal.

  What she needed was more information. A simple scrying spell would be neither too difficult nor dangerous. She took a new piece of chalk from a drawer, and knelt down on the floor with books spread around her in a rough semicircle.

  The circle required for this was not terribly intricate, but considering the subject of the scrying, Rowan wanted it to be perfect. It was perhaps an hour before she was satisfied, and then she sat in the center of the circle with a silver bowl of water set in front of her. She took a deep breath, focusing her energy into the tips of her fingers as she pressed her palms flat against the ground and spoke in a clear voice. “Aspectu revelare!”

  The lines on the floor glowed blue-white with power, and an image began to form on the surface of the water. Rowan leaned forward, making sure to keep her hands on the floor to power the spell. The vision in the bowl was hazy, more a smear of light and color than anything decipherable. Maybe the barrier between this world and the other was interfering, or possibly Lord Kennet had warded against scrying, but either way, sound was coming through perfectly.

  “Aidan, stop baiting your brother. The last thing I need is another complaint from the Sylph Council,” said a male voice so deep she swore the water rippled in response.

  “Maybe you should make him clean up his own messes then,” said another voice, smoother and not quite so deep, but cold as ice.

  “Jealous, brother?” said a third, booming voice. Was this really Lord Kennet? The conversation sounded much too normal for the home of a terrifying lord of the Fair Folk.

  “You wish,” said the cold voice again. There was a moment of silence, and then he spoke the words that made her heartbeat come to a standstill. “It seems we have a little mouse listening in.”

  “Oh, how interesting,” said the abyssal voice of the father. Rowan couldn’t make herself move, and she didn’t know whether that was magic or her own fear working against her. A huge eye, blue-purple and white like captured lightning, peered up at her from the scrying bowl. “The wizard’s daughter. Trying to save your father, little mortal?”

  She wanted to speak. She wanted to scream, to throw the bowl aside, banish the spell, and hide under the bedcovers; such was the terror that was inspired by the attention of Lord Kennet. It was like being a mouse at the mercy of an eagle. But she couldn’t move. His power held her as if she were frozen solid.

  He chuckled as if he found her fear wonderfully amusing. “Let it not be said that I am not an accommodating Lord. I do enjoy a bit of irony. Come then, little mortal. Make your case before the Lord of the Sky.”

  There was a tug, like an invisible force pulling her by the heart. Blackness rushed over her, wind roared in her ears, and then she landed hard, driving the sense from her head.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Why, by the Tree, did you bring her here? She’s just an ordinary mortal girl,” said a voice, cool and smooth as a frozen pool. Rowan remembered hearing that once before in the scrying bowl.

  “I think she could prove useful. Certainly, more entertaining than her father,” said Lord Kennet. “The man does nothing but complain and try to escape. As if he hadn’t approached me of his own free will. Mortals are so ungrateful.”

  “She’s awake,” said the first voice. Rowan sighed. She’d been hoping to get more information, but there was no longer any point in pretending. She opened her eyes and then rapidly snapped her mouth shut before a scream managed to claw its way out of her throat.

  These were not the beautiful, graceful beings the tales had led her to expect. Before her, filling up her entire field of vision, was a living, breathing dragon. Its scales were brilliant, burnished gold, shining with inner light like the sun come down to earth, but it was the electric blue eyes that told her that this was not some fearsome pet, but Lord Kennet himself.

  Fear was one of the weapons he would use against her, and so, she forced herself to master it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself to her feet and faced the dragon with her chin held high.

  “I’m here to negotiate for the life of my father, Geoffrey Ravencroft. I believe he has some sort of contract with you,” she said, forcing herself to look the terrifying Lord in the eye.

  Another dragon, this one with scales of white and pale blue, peered out from behind the first. “She’s got guts. I like her.”

  “Bold. For a mortal,” said the last voice, the one Rowan was already beginning to associate with icy water. This dragon had dark scales, midnight blue and deepest violet.

  “Indeed. I knew she would be entertaining. Very well, Rowan Ravencroft. You wish to have your father restored to you, but what will you give for it? He and I had a fair bargain, and my aid does not come without a price. Will you take his place in my Court? I don’t see how that will do you any good.”

  “I…” He was right; that wouldn’t do her much good. Besides, she was fairly sure if that happened, her father would end up fighting to get her back anyway.

  “I have a notion. A deal that I think is more than fair. I have two sons, you see, and I love them both equally.” The one with the dark scales snorted in derision. Lord Kennet continued without acknowledging the interruption. “I’m getting rather bored with ruling the Court of the Heavens, but I have yet to decide who shall inherit my post. I think you shall choose for me.”

  “What? How could I possibly choose your heir? I don’t know anything about running a Court.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have to agree with the mortal,” said the dark dragon.

  “Oh, come on. It could be fun,” his brother retorted.

  “That’s enough,” the golden dragon boomed, making the ground vibrate beneath their feet. “As it happens, both Prince Niall and Prince Aidan are equally capable. You must choose in a way only you can: with your heart.” Rowan gaped at him, confused and not a little concerned.

  “You come from a prestigious magical bloodline of mortals, and I am interested to know how that might benefit the blood of the Aos Si. So, choose one of my sons to father your child. Whoever you choose will inherit my throne, and your child after him. As soon as the child is born, you and your father will be free.”

  A maelstrom of emotions rushed through her, making it difficult to speak. She was furious to be treated like a brood mare, for one thing, and horrified by the idea that she could do such a thing with a stranger, let alone
a dangerous, magical stranger.

  But what actually came out of her mouth made her cheeks color with shame. “But you’re dragons! Surely that is biologically impossible as well as improper.”

  All the dragons snorted and coughed with amusement, which only annoyed her further. “In any case, you can hardly expect me to make such a ridiculous deal.”

  “I think it’s quite reasonable, considering,” Lord Kennet said, still chuckling his amusement. “Your father is bound here every night for the rest of his life, but you might spend as little as a year among us, if that is your wish. As for your other concern, I assumed you were aware that all fae of our stature are natural shapeshifters.”

  He waved one of his golden claws, and there was a flash of light that culminated in a shower of sparks which tinkled like silver bells. When the air cleared, there were three men, so beautiful they might as well have stepped out of some fantastical painting.

  The one in the center, the tallest, was obviously Lord Kennet, with skin of sun-kissed bronze and hair that was a riotous tumble of golden curls. “Does this meet with your approval, mortal?” he asked, gesturing to his two sons with a cat-like grin.

  Rowan was still furious, but she also knew, if the Lord could be trusted, it was a fair bargain, if reprehensible. “All that is required is for me to remain here until I have borne a child to one of these two?” she said critically. “And both my father and I can go free? What about until then? Will I be a prisoner? A slave?”

  Lord Kennet shrugged. “You will be a member of my household. And then a member of the household of your chosen mate, at least until the child is born. You may spend your time however you wish, otherwise. You will be afforded every material luxury, I assure you.”

  The prince on the left grinned at her. He looked much like his father, only his blonde hair was so fair that it was nearly white and hung in loose waves just past his chin. He was dressed like a warrior from a storybook, in glittering mail with a jewelled sword hanging from his hip.

  Despite the martial attire, he seemed cheerful, and the only clue that he was not a mortal man were his long, gracefully pointed ears. Rowan shivered and turned her gaze back to Lord Kennet.

  “And what about my father? Will I be allowed to see him? What will happen to his…body in our world?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow you to see poor Geoffrey, as I’m sure he’ll try to contrive a way out of the bargain,” the lord replied with a feral grin. “But he is being cared for. As for the mortal realm, I already have an agent there who will make sure everything is taken care of. A reason for your absence will be provided, and you will find your home and social position just as you left it.

  As long as you remain in the Court of the Heavens, time will pass normally for you, so you needn’t worry about finding yourself an old woman upon returning or other such nonsense.”

  She wanted to ask about afterward, but she could hardly bear to think about it. Would she be allowed to see her child? Would she even want to? A half-fae child born out of a contract? Rowan wasn’t sure whether she was more afraid that she would feel no maternal feelings for it, or that she would.

  She couldn’t believe she was even taking the idea under consideration. But she couldn’t leave her father here, and she knew she wouldn’t get a better deal. At least she wouldn’t have to marry anyone. No one back home need ever know. She took another deep breath. “If I accept this bargain, am I correct in assuming that I am not required to decide right away?”

  “I hope that you will not. Though, as I have said, both my sons have the abilities needed to rule this Court, it is still a decision that will shape the future for millennia to come,” he said. Rowan shivered at the thought. Millennia. Any child that she bore to these unearthly creatures would live beyond a time when even her bones turned to dust. “Please consider your choice carefully. And who knows, you may even come to like it here.”

  “I doubt that highly,” she said in a frosty tone. The lands of the Aos Si were not meant for mortals. Tales told of their beauty, but also their malice. The Fair Folk could be powerful magical allies, but they loved to trick unwary mortals, and exposure to their wild revels could even cause madness, if the stories held even a grain of truth.

  To save her father, she would take this deal, but she would remain on her guard. “However, I will accept the bargain. I will bear one child for one of your sons, and then you will free my father and me from this contract forever.”

  She stuck out her hand, and Lord Kennet grasped it in his much larger one. Magic twined around them, binding their words to the very fabric of the universe. “So mote it be,” spoke the booming voice of the Lord of the Court of Heavens, and there was a sound like a thunderclap.

  He smiled and clapped his hands together. “Now that business is concluded, I believe a feast is in order. I suspect you’ll want to get yourself changed. I’ll send for someone to show you to your rooms.” With that, Lord Kennet turned and strode away.

  “See you later, human girl,” said the fair-haired prince with a jovial wave. Rowan waved back feebly, wondering if he followed after his father, being at a loss for words. What had she gotten herself into?

  “Do not let your guard down. No matter what my father says, the Court is dangerous,” came a familiar voice. Rowan turned to see that one prince had not followed his father and brother. Looking at him, it was hard to believe that he was related to them. Both the Lord and his other son were heavily muscled to an intimidating degree, but this prince was slender and lithe as a jungle cat. His long hair, swimming with all the colors of midnight and shadow, flowed down his back like a silken waterfall, and his angular face was the picture of preternatural beauty, but his expression gave nothing away.

  “Er… Thank you, Prince-?”

  “Aidan,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Leave it to my father to not tell you anything important. Why did you agree to such a ridiculous bargain? Far safer for you to let your father serve his time here. He’s not as unhappy as you think.”

  “How am I to know that? In my world, he lies in his bed as if dead, unless he’s raving like a madman. He’s my father, and people depend on him. It would be irresponsible of me to leave him here to waste away.”

  Prince Aidan shrugged his shoulders. “Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He turned and walked down a different corridor than the one his father had used, and Rowan scowled after him.

  “If he was half as concerned about my well-being as he pretended to be, he would have said something before I agreed to this idiotic contract,” she said sourly, looking around the room she’d been left in. It was some sort of…lobby or meeting area, a huge round chamber with a floor of polished crystal and vaulted ceilings painted in a solar motif. It might have been a palace in the mortal world, only the air practically shimmered with magical power.

  Rowan could feel it tingling against her skin. There was no furniture save for a table in the center and piles of cushions everywhere else. She supposed dragons didn’t need chairs. Does the form of dragons come naturally to them, or is that something that was intended to frighten me? she wondered. But tales regarding the Aos Si almost never mention dragons. It’s all very nonsensical.

  Lord Kennet had said he would send someone for her, but after several minutes passed, Rowan began to feel both nervous and annoyed. Was this some kind of test or trick? There were several archways leading off in different directions, and she went to each in turn, peering down the corridors.

  They all looked fairly similar at first glance, but just as she was about to try walking a little way down one, she heard the sound of quiet footsteps behind her.

  “Oh, Lady Rowan, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” said a voice, and Rowan turned around to find a young female fae regarding her apologetically.

  “I don’t think I’m any sort of lady,” she replied, arching her eyebrow. “But I am glad you’re here. I was beginning to worry.”

  The girl shook her head. “
Lord Kennet has ordered that, as the future mother of one of his grandchildren, you’re to be treated with the highest respect. I do apologize again. It took me much longer to arrange things in the mortal realm than I expected.”

  “You mean, you’re his agent in my world?” Rowan said in surprise. The young fae looked no older than ten, and with her long white hair and ice blue eyes, she would have stuck out like a sore thumb. “You must have looked quite different there.”

  “You mean, you don’t recognize me?” the girl asked with a hurt expression. “Perhaps if I do this?” A moment later, white cat ears had appeared on the top of her head. Rowan blinked, stunned into temporary silence.

  “Fenella?!” she finally managed to say, horror and anger beginning to overcome her surprise. “You mean to say you’ve been working for a lord of the Fair Folk the entire time?”

  “It’s not what you think!” she said, holding her hands in front of her like a shield. “I was only supposed to keep an eye on you, and report anything suspicious. Otherwise, I was merely your familiar.”

  “But why me? Lord Kennet had a contract with my father. He had no reason to care about me.” Unless this was always his plan, she thought to herself. Only, that made just as little sense. Why would he want his sons to have a child with a human woman?

  Fenella shrugged. “I’m not privy to the High Lord’s personal affairs. All I know is that someone in the upper echelons of the court was interested enough in you to ensure that you were kept safe. And now that you’re here, I’m to serve as your guide and handmaiden.”

  “I suppose that’s a bit of a promotion from housecat,” Rowan said wryly, shaking her head. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think this was some sort of fantastical dream, brought about by bad food or a fever. But her magical training told her that this was all too real.