Enchanting the Dragon

by Rinelle Grey

  Rita sat up a little straighter, and her eyes narrowed. “He? So one dragon in particular?” There was a strange tone to her words, as though she wasn’t particularly surprised.

  Again he had the feeling she knew more than she was admitting. Warrian watched her closely as he said, “Ultrian.” Watching her distracted him from the tumult of emotions he felt at that name.

  Her reaction wasn’t the one he’d expected.

  Rita wrinkled her nose. “Ultrian?” Surprise edged her voice. As though she’d been expecting a different answer.

  She didn’t know. That helped Warrian relax a little and nod his head. “He was the strongest and bravest of the lightning dragons, an unofficial leader of sorts, and he wanted to mate with my sister.”

  “Oh.” Rita’s mouth formed an ‘O’, and she nodded, as if it was all starting to make sense. “And let me guess, he was sexy enough that she was tempted to throw everything away for a pretty face?”

  Warrian’s heart skipped a beat, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was because she’d guessed far too close to the truth or because she’d called Ultrian sexy.

  She should not be thinking anyone else was sexy. Not at all.

  Warrian shook his head. He couldn’t afford to let the Mesmer bond affect him. He barely knew her. He certainly shouldn’t be worried what she thought of other dragons. And anyway, she’d never even met Ultrian. She was just guessing. And very successfully, he might add.

  For a moment, Warrian was tempted to admit the whole truth. That Sarian had very nearly succumbed to Ultrian’s many charms. She would have if not for his intervention.

  From the way Rita was looking at him, he suspected she’d get why he’d done it. She seemed the practical sort, the kind who would choose her goals over love. The kind who would understand someone doing what they needed to do in order to protect their clan.

  Trouble was, Rita had no reason to help him protect his clan. She wasn’t part of it. She wasn’t even a dragon. She was a human. She was his enemy as surely as the Trima clan was. This story served to remind him of that as well.

  So instead of nodding, as he was tempted to, Warrian lifted his chin and stared Rita straight in the eye. “My sister was not the type to throw away everything we’d worked for, no matter how sexy Ultrian was.” He couldn’t help the sneer to his tone as he said the word, remembering how Ultrian had strutted about, so certain of his appeal. Warrian had found it amusing, had even teased him about it—at first.

  “So what happened then?” Rita asked curiously.

  “He tried to force himself on her, to mate with her so she would have no choice but to stay with him.” Warrian stared off into space somewhere past Rita, emotions flooding through him. Just saying the words, imagining the scene he described, made him angry enough to ignore the slight feeling of guilt for what he had done to his friend.

  Rita looked suitably incensed. “He sounds like a bastard.”

  For some reason, Warrian hesitated. He should agree with her wholeheartedly. Despite the fact that his story was not entirely the truth, Ultrian’s actions had shown his lack of commitment to the good of Rian clan. Putting his own happiness over the needs of his clan should fit Rita’s description neatly.

  She was looking at him, one eyebrow raised, and he had to say something. So he stuck to the facts. “He was banished for his impudence, as many other dragons had been before for far lesser crimes.”

  Rita’s approving grin almost made Warrian squirm. “I bet he didn’t like that. Is that why he’s your enemy?”

  She couldn’t possibly know what it had cost him to banish Ultrian, or how much pain the memory still caused him.

  “Of course Ultrian wasn’t happy,” Warrian agreed. “But even so, that should have been the end of it. It would have been except he somehow managed to convince the other lightning dragons to follow him. He formed his own clan, renaming himself Ultrima. They have been our enemies ever since. Even after hundreds of years they still wish to wipe us out.”

  This time he had no trouble sounding grim. The war and the resulting loss of dragon life most assuredly earned Ultrima bastard status.

  Rita was gaping at him in shock. “So Ultrian became Ultrima? Wow.”

  Her surprise and the understanding behind her words were enough to distract him from his guilty thoughts. She hadn’t even stumbled over Ultrima’s name. The fact that Ultrian’s had thrown her had been a distraction. He should not have let himself be soothed by it.

  Just how much did she know, and more importantly, where had she come by her information?

  Determination to find out surged through Warrian, and it was on the tip of his tongue to demand she give him the answers. If he’d thought it would work, he would have done so. But he’d already tried that, back at her house, and she’d been more than ready to stand up to him.

  Threats wouldn’t work on her.

  And he was secretly glad to know that because he didn’t want to threaten her.

  What he wanted to do to her was on the opposite end of the spectrum. His body heated at the thought, and it was all he could do to refocus his mind on the task at hand. Those feelings were a distraction he couldn’t afford. One that would prevent him from protecting his clan, as they had almost done for Sarian.

  Mating with Rita would achieve nothing. It most certainly wouldn’t convince her to tell him the truth. In fact, once they’d completed the ritual and the Mesmer bond had faded, his one tie to her, any chance he had of convincing her to tell him the truth, would also be gone.

  Much as he disliked the idea, his best chance of figuring out what was going on was to use the magic of the Mesmer bond. He could see she wasn’t immune to its effects, no matter how good she was at resisting him. The way her body turned towards him, the way her breath hitched when he leaned in closer, were as clear as day.

  Even if its pull was created by magic, the Mesmer bond was powerful. He could use that. He could convince her to help him because she wanted to. She was as enamoured with him as he was with her.

  The admission of his own infatuation shocked him, and he did his best to cover it with the truth—that what he felt was a product of the Mesmer bond too.

  But he couldn’t completely convince himself of that.

  There was something about her, something about her determination, her strength, and the way that damn ponytail swung from side to side when she was enthusiastic, just as she was now as she leaned in closer towards him, that set his heart racing.

  For a brief moment, Warrian tried to deny it. He wanted to refute any suggestion he was at risk of succumbing to an emotional attachment as Sarian had been. But the truth was, for the first time he completely understood why his sister had been ready to throw away all their plans for a completely unsuitable mate.

  He wanted to push that realisation away, and maintain the dispassion he needed to complete his task. But the reality was, he was going to need any edge he had to find his way in this strange new world.

  If his connection to Rita could achieve that, then he needed to embrace it.

  Anyway, his seduction would be all the more successful if it came from a place of real attraction.

  At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself.

  Chapter 3

  Rita held her breath, the emotion in Warrian’s eyes capturing her gaze and not letting go. Something about sharing his story with her seemed to have shifted something between them.

  This time, there was something different about his expression, a burning desire in his eyes that set her whole body aflame.

  Oh, he’d looked at her with passion before, but not like this. This time he wasn’t appraising her body or trying to lure her to him with come hither looks. In fact, she was pretty sure that this time, he wasn’t even aware of the depth of need showing on his face.

  And that made it far more tempting.

  Rita wanted to give in. The need she felt for him in this moment was stronger than her need to breathe. She wanted to be closer to him,
she craved a connection with him that she’d never even suspected was possible until this moment. Her heart was screaming at her to throw away everything she’d worked for and dreamed of just for this one moment.

  But that was all it would be. His story about his sister had only rammed home the fact that he was even more focused on his own goals than Todd had been. Right now, he needed her, but once he had what he wanted, that would be it. Oh, he might pretend to be interested for a while. He couldn’t ignore the fact that her knowledge of the changes he had slept through would be useful. But that would just make the pain of his inevitable betrayal all the worse.

  She would not set herself up to be hurt. She’d sworn she would not put herself in that position again. Especially not for an attraction that wasn’t even real.

  Damn that Mesmer bond.

  Rita checked the fire and decided it was ready to cook. As she busied her hands with opening a can of stew, pouring it into the saucepan, then putting it over the fire to heat, she focused her mind on all Warrian had revealed.

  Ultrima had once been called Ultrian. He had been banished because he’d tried to force himself on Warrian’s sister, the future queen.

  He was even more of a bastard than she’d already suspected.

  Rita felt a stab of guilt for the fact that she was, essentially, working with Ultrima. Helping him further his agenda at the very least. She had no idea why he’d wanted Warrian awoken, but her complicity in keeping him away from his family was clearly beneficial only to Ultrima. Were Rita’s actions giving Ultrima another chance to put pressure on Warrian’s sister?

  She couldn’t, in all conscience, be a part of that.

  And yet… Rita replayed her conversation with Warrian back in her head, both to commit it to memory, and to assess it for validity.

  Warrian had certainly seemed distressed when recounting Ultrima’s actions towards his sister, but he also hadn’t met Rita’s eyes as he’d told his story. That could have been because he’d been caught up in his memories, but Rita wasn’t entirely convinced. The whole story just refused to gel. None of the parts she had seemed to fit together in any workable fashion.

  If Ultrima had been determined enough to force himself on an unwilling dragon, would he have really sent Rita to wake Warrian and simply keep him out of the way? Given the fact that Ultrima could secretly talk into people’s minds, and even seemed to have Constable Hailey on his side, she had no doubts that if Ultrima had wanted to, he could have sent a message to the guard to let her in to wake the prince, and kill one or both of them when they emerged.

  Instead he had sent her here to distract the Rian prince. To keep him away from the Rian lair…

  Until what? Just what was the Trima leader’s plan?

  Rita stared into the fire, lost in thought, unaware that she was grinding her teeth until Warrian asked, “Is everything all right?”

  Rita looked up and met his eyes, and as she stared at him, she wondered how she could doubt him. If she believed Ultrima, then that had to mean Warrian was lying. And what possible reason would he have for that?

  The story he’d told her fitted with the kind of man she’d seen he was. Warrian clearly believed in a woman’s right to say no. He’d stopped to check that Rita really had wanted to mate with him, despite the urgency he must have felt. And when she’d objected, even pathetically weakly, he’d respected that completely.

  What possible reason could he have for lying? What did he gain from his sister not mating with Ultrima? What could he possibly gain by his clan being at war? She’d known him for less than 24 hours, but from what she’d seen, he seemed a decent dragon. She couldn’t believe he would want the pain and suffering war would bring, for any reason.

  But both of them couldn’t be telling the truth. There was something else going on here. If only she could figure out what.

  “I’m fine.” She handed Warrian a bowl of stew, wishing she knew more. Wishing she dared ask all the millions of questions in her mind. But it was too soon to push him. This would take time. She’d known that from the beginning.

  Neither of them said much as they ate. Rita held her tongue, trying to be patient, and Warrian stared off into space. Rita couldn’t help imagining he was still mulling over the past.

  As darkness fell over the camp, Rita kicked dirt over the fire. Although the burning of the sun was gone, the oppressive heat only diminished slightly, and they didn’t need the fire adding to it. Neither did they need anyone driving, or flying, past to see it, no matter how unlikely that was.

  The cicadas’ song rang out loudly in the darkness. A mosquito buzzed stridently around Rita’s ear, and she grimaced and swatted at it. “Might be time to retire,” she suggested. “Even if only to get away from the mozzies.”

  Warrian’s head swivelled towards the tent, then back towards her. Even in the dark, Rita could feel the heat of his stare. “I approve.” His voice was gravelly and somehow sexy.

  Rita swallowed. She hadn’t really thought that through. Out here, there was plenty of space between them, and in the darkness, she could almost pretend she was alone.

  But the tent was small and cosy, and she somehow suspected Warrian would fill it completely.

  Was it too late to suggest that he might sleep out here?

  But no, that would be cowardly.

  Warrian had shown he was perfectly capable of being a gentleman. She could trust him, even in the confines of the small tent.

  It was herself she wasn’t quite sure if she could trust.

  Rita cleared her throat and stood up. She opened her mouth to invite him in, but somehow that didn’t sound quite right. She thought of and discarded several other options, before deciding on nothing, and turned and crawled into the tent.

  As soon as she was inside, she scooted over near one wall, waving Warrian to the other as he followed her. Rita was all too aware of him lying down on the sleeping bag, wearing nothing but those sexy, tight shorts. She deliberately ignored him, zipping up the opening, making sure there were no gaps for the nasty mozzies to make it inside.

  Then she moved back to her side of the tent and lay down on top of the sleeping bag. It was far too hot to climb inside, but the thick padding protected her slightly from the discomfort of the rocky ground.

  Her breathing sounded loud in the silence, and she held her breath for a second, trying to hear if Warrian was breathing too.

  How silly. Of course he had to be breathing.

  But unlike her own noisy exhalations, she couldn’t hear him.

  The oppressive heat seemed to press in on her from all sides, and every part of her felt sticky. Rita distracted herself from Warrian’s presence by imagining how pleasant and cool the air conditioning in her bedroom at home would feel right now.

  Unfortunately, that only made the heat feel even heavier. Rita was tempted to get up and dump a bottle of water over her head. Maybe that would cool her down.

  Getting away from Warrian would probably help too.

  Rita let out her breath in a sigh. This was silly. Warrian might be a dragon. He might be buff and sexy and, quite frankly, gorgeous. She might be bound to him by a hot and mysterious magical bond, but that didn’t mean she had to lose her metaphorical cool.

  She could be an adult about this. She could calmly say goodnight, roll over, and go to sleep.

  But when she tried to speak, the words stuck in her throat.

  It was Warrian who said softly in the darkness, “Goodnight, Rita.”

  Somehow, his words freed up her voice. “Goodnight, Warrian,” she managed to answer.

  There was a long silence. Then Warrian added, “Thank you for helping me.”

  His voice was kind and grateful, but his words stirred up a tumult of guilt in Rita’s belly. It roiled around with the craving she felt for him because of the Mesmer bond and tangled up with all the amazing facts she’d learned about dragons for her story, making her feel boiling hot and a little like she might throw up.

  That was just t
he heat though. It certainly was hot enough to make one feel sick.

  But deep down, Rita knew it was more than that.

  Of course she felt bad for lying to Warrian. For distracting him from his clan. For working with his enemy, the one who had been insufferable to his sister.

  She deserved to feel bad about all of that.

  And that bad feeling should be convincing her to tell him the truth, right now, before this charade went any further.

  When she considered that possibility, she knew she was staring at a future where she was back to getting nowhere. She’d worked at the Mungaloo Chronicle for five years now. If she didn’t get this story, that was where she’d be in another five years. Maybe in another fifty.

  Rita wanted more than that. She wanted to see the world, to visit exciting places, but mostly, to get a chance to do something more than report on a bunch of teens vandalising Ted Orville’s Christmas lights display or another fight at the local pub.

  Giving up this story felt like giving up on having any kind of future.

  And it felt unfair. She’d worked hard for this. She’d had the balls to risk public ridicule to publish a blurry picture of a purple dragon. She’d held her ground to snap photos of two dragons fighting on the bonnet of a car. She’d passed on info to the police that enabled them to find the dragon lair.

  And what did she have to show for it? Did she have a story? Did she even have respect, from the police or from the dragon clan?

  Nope.

  She had nothing.

  As usual.

  Rita hardened her heart.

  She was not going to let a hot body or a little dragon magic steal this away from her. She’d let Todd do that once. If she did it again, she’d never forgive herself.

  She needed to stick to the plan. Keep Warrian distracted. Find out as much as she could. Maybe even get some photos, then, when this was over and he went back to his dragon prince life, she’d at least have some fame and fortune to keep her company.

  Rita rolled over, putting her back to Warrian, and tried to pretend she wasn’t at least a little tempted to throw it all away for the chance to sleep with him, just once.