The Dragon Slayer (Dragon Prince Series Book 1)

by Marie Daye

  The naive thought had to cross his mind, he had never seen mortals in the act. It disgusted him, it was a scene he never wanted to see. The scene of mortals he wanted, was them screaming in agony as his flames charred them to the bone.

  He sat up on his knees and looked down to where his pleasure was emitting from, and from his waist stood at attention a thick and pulsating cock. Mortal’s genitalia looked very different from that of a dragon. He gripped his hand around it, examining this also foreign part of his body. Not all dragons found pleasure in mating, they mostly did so only to protect their species and it was only with the one they would call lifemate. So to have this long, hard, thick and hot rod in his possession was very new.

  However here he lay with the slayer pinned beneath him and all he wanted to do was mate, to satisfy his own pleasure. He combated his mental thoughts as an array of them rushed through his mind in a whirlpool. Dragons mate with only one dragon their entire life, they mate with their lifemate: and the slayer was not his lifemate. Why he felt arousal for her, he blamed on her damned curse.

  He watched as she quickly pushed herself away again, attempting to stand when he grabbed her leather waistband. She glared at him. “Behave yourself beast.”

  Eskil felt a strong pulse beat through his member, the skin was soft and silky, and each touch that made contact with the tissue sent bolts of fire to his groin. He moaned again, when he slid his hand from the base of his member to the round tip.

  If this is what mortals feel while mating, I can understand why they do it so much. He turned his fiery gaze towards hers with ill thoughts, his grip on her waist band tightened as he tried to pull her back down beneath him. Too hell with her not being his lifemate, he was strangely willing to find out how mating occurred between mortals.

  Libelle pulled her arm back and balled her hand into a fist, swinging it forward with all the strength she had and smashing her knuckles into Eskil's unguarded nose. The man-beast howled and released her, stumbling backwards on his knees and his hands went straight to his once-again bleeding nose.

  She stood up, struggling to ignore the desire she had to kick him hard in his gut, and forced herself to walk away. She stormed out of the room and down the hallway towards the opposite wing of Uppsala She muttered curses under her breath, and stomped her feet as she walked towards the one room all the priests would be gathered in for their morning meal. The hallways of Uppsala were always warm, several blazes lit the halls with warm fires. Her bare feet slapped the stone floors as she stomped down the few steps into the council room where she found the four priest.

  They all looked up from their meals with a puzzled expression when she continued to stomp into the room and up to the table. She dropped herself into a heavy chair, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the stone table before rubbing her temples with a deep sigh.

  Davyn stared at her while taking a spoon and scooped up a spoonful of a hearty stew. “Are you having a rough morning?”

  She groaned again, “Yes. I slept like a log and I have this horrendous knot in my neck. First thing I opened my eyes too is a pair that belonged to a devil who merely wanted to cut me down. I was not even able to eat some breakfast before I needed to beat the beast down.”

  Davyn raised an eyebrow to her. “So you are saying that your magic did not work?”

  “No, everything worked.” She accepted a hot bowl of stew and a spoon from Kirk before taking a large and savory bite. The soft potatoes and tender meat unleashed a burst of flavor with all the added spices and she felt her stomach warm up. Her stomach was empty before this, and the food tasted amazing.

  “I thought Eskil would be unable to harm a mortal after the curse was placed upon him? How was he able to attack you?” Davyn asked after another bite.

  Libelle took another bite as well. “Well, I discovered what would happen if Eskil were to try and harm a mortal. Not that this spell completely prevents him from taking a move to harm a mortal, but he for sure is not able to follow through with any intent.”

  She continued eating when the priests looked amongst themselves, more puzzled than before. Davyn spoke for the other three men, “What does that mean?”

  Libelle took the last few remaining bites in her bowl before answering. “Initially, I assumed the spell would prevent Eskil from taking any action that could harm a mortal. I assumed he wouldn't be able to even think of it, but I had nothing to base my assumptions on. Well it seems he is able to take action on those thoughts. He attacked me when I first opened my eyes, managed to get his hands around my throat.”

  “Yet, it seems the moment Eskil actually makes the attempt to harm a mortal his body is riddled with pain. Looked like he had an electric current running through him. He went stiff all over, and it obviously seemed to hurt. Stopped him fast in his tracks.”

  Davyn’s puzzled expression seemed to fade as he processed her words through his mind. “So, there were no effects until he tried to harm you?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “So we have nothing to worry about then? You’ll be able to keep an eye on him, keep everyone safe?” Davyn asked.

  “Yes, I can keep everyone safe. For the moment, we have nothing to worry about.” She accepted another bowl from Kirk and began taking bite after bite. “If he cannot harm a mortal now, he merely needs to be supervised. Currently, he is not a threat. I suppose I will take him back to my home, and have my manservant show him some manners. He may look like a man, but he still is the dragon prince.”

  “What will you do with him? You sound as if you’re keeping a new pet.”

  Libelle chuckled, “Yes, it does sound like that. But no, I am not keeping a pet. I am taking a chance by not killing Eskil, and not let him kill anyone else. It’s quite the responsibility.”

  Yes, she was taking on a great responsibility. One she has not fully prepared for, one she was not even expecting to ever have. She could not leave Eskil in Uppsala, nothing good would come from him trying the priest’s patience. He would undoubtedly become their next sacrifice.

  She could not leave him to roam the land, there was no guarantee that the gods spell was permanent and no guarantee if he would forever be unable to harm another mortal. As a slayer, she was tasked with something she felt would be impossible.

  Eskil was vicious, demonic, and wanted blood: her blood. She would need to remain on guard around him, despite him failing to harm her earlier this morning she would not let her guard down. She did not know what would come from keeping him so close to her, it was an idea that did not please her.

  Eskil would probably pose a continuous problem, he will most likely be destructive and try to escape. Or try to find ways to kill her and everyone around him. Perhaps she would simply lock him in a cellar, keep him fed and watered but no more… The devil had taken many lives in this world, slain many men just to satisfy his hatred. Even the souls of the dead were not safe from him.

  “Slayer!”

  Libelle closed her eyes, a frown forming and creasing her brow. Eskil appeared in the doorway, blood running from his nose and down his chin, droplets of the red liquid on his chest. He was still nude, completely exposed to everyone’s gaze. She felt the flush return to her cheeks when he stomped down the stairs towards her, crossing the room towards her seat. His muscular chest was taut and his arms were flexing as he clenched and stretched his hands.

  He slammed his hand down onto the table in front of her and bent down, his gold eyes narrowing even more. Libelle felt uncomfortable, but thankfully did not feel endangered. She stared into his eyes, his mortal face was just as intimidating as his scaled form: but she did not feel that tingle of danger she had been feeling of late.

  “Tell me what you did.” He growled.

  She growled back at him, “I said I will tell you. I will tell you when you get yourself covered.”

  “You will tell me now.”

  “I will tell you when you get yourself covered. I will not repeat myself again.” She hissed at him, a
nd then began to question her rising temper. Why was she losing her patience? Why was she not remaining stoic and calm?

  Eskil snarled again and leaned closer to her, his face a few inches from hers. “You will tell me now.”

  Davyn and the three remaining priests stood up from their seats as they eyed the situation. They were ready for the worst, ready for Eskil to strike: then they would defend their temple and ally. Despite what she said, they had not seen any of it with their own eyes. They were still ready for him to be the man eater like he was known to be.

  Libelle felt the intimidating aura rise from Eskil, it was invisible but it was still there. Just as dark as he was, it was like his soul was reaching from his body to strike fear in her. To scare her. The stronger his aura became, the stronger the twinge of fear sparked about in her belly. Is this what made her scared? Was this the sensation that caused her blood to boil before turning into ice? This heavy feeling that he emitted from his body brought tension and fear to those it weighed down. Libelle pushed past the feeling of despair he was crushing her with and stood up very fast. She knocked him backwards and jabbed her finger into his bare chest, taking wide steps forward as he took wide steps backwards.

  “You want to know what I did to you, you devil!? I have stopped you from killing anymore of my people!” She jabbed her finger hard into his chest again. “Yes, I cannot kill you but I found a way to stop you. You cannot kill anymore!”

  Eskil’s eyes widened in anger, “That does not explain why I look like this! Like a mortal!”

  She glared back at him, “I do not have an answer for that. The magic and power we used were only meant to prevent you from killing anyone. This-” She gestured to all of him. “-I cannot explain. None of us knew this would happen.”

  He growled and tried to push himself from the wall she had cornered him on, but she didn't budge. “Change me back.”

  “I cannot do that.”

  “Do it.”

  “I cannot do it, because I do not know how to do it!”

  Eskil paused, his expression changing from anger, to frustration, to realization to his situation. “I,” He narrowed his eyes at her again. “-I am stuck like this?”

  She nodded, “Yes, for how long I’m not sure.”

  There was a moment of hope in his eyes, “It’s not permanent?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He looked at the ground, trying to find a solution to his situation. He was a mortal. He had his magic but he did not have his wings. He appeared weak, how was he to remain the prince of the dragons? The glorious creation or Búri was no mortal. The slayer had spent a lot of time arranging her plan, praying to the gods who had allied with her. What she had discovered was not simply a spell that would prevent him from taking mortal life, but it had changed his physical form as well. How in the name of all the gods had a mortal stumbled, stumbled! Upon such ancient and powerful magic?

  “Loki.” He whispered, his head raising and resting against the stone wall: his eyes directed up to the ceiling now.

  “Yes.”

  “You trusted that bastard to help you?”

  “Yes.”

  Eskil cursed and snarled at her, still more beast than man. “You delved into forbidden magic you fool.” He hissed out, forcing himself to speak despite his rage.

  Gods he was in a terrible situation; one god, Loki, he had aided her in her studies. Up to nothing but mischief no doubt. If the god prince was involved in this, and their magic behind her spell: he was in for a long and rough road until he found an answer he would be satisfied with.

  “You will help in changing me back.” He said.

  Libelle shook her head, her blue eyes narrowed just like his. “I will do no such a thing. Your mortal form was not involved in my plan, but it is now. You’re stuck like this, like it or not.”

  Eskil bellowed out a roar of frustration and picked Libelle up by the collar of her cotton shirt, spinning the surprised dragon slayer around and pinning her against the wall. He pushed hard, the sound of her back slamming against the stone slab was loud. Even louder was his garbled scream as the same painful electrical current rushed through him. He collapsed onto the ground shaking, dry heaves clenching his stomach and making him want to hurl up the non-existent contents of his stomach.

  Jolgeir approached the pair with a pair of wool pants, a simple cotton shirt and a vest. Silently agreeing that the nude man-beast should be nude no longer. Libelle accepted them and knelt down in front of Eskil who was trying to slow his breathing, working through his pain.

  “Like it or not Eskil, you are stuck like this until further notice. I cannot change you back, and even if I could I would not do so. You cannot harm a mortal any longer, and you cannot defend yourself from them either. You are to come with me so I can keep my eye on you.”

  He growled again, “I will not obey you like some dog she-elf.”

  “Yes, you will. You’re mortal now Eskil, you may even be able to die now. You have three choices, and I am being generous by giving you that. One: You will come with me, where I can keep you in safe-keepings. You will be fed and clothed, and you will be free to go about with some discretion. Two: I can let you travel down this mountain by your lonesome self, ass-naked with nothing to defend yourself with. You may be able to fend off the packs of wolves and the occasional troll, but you come face to face with a bunch of bandits: you will be nothing more than a notch on their belt once they’re through with you. Three: I can test my original theory and see if you can die in this form with my blade. I won't make it fast or easy or nothing of the sort. I will have my revenge for all the pain you have caused this land. Understand?”

  Libelle was playing dirty; she knew it, he knew it and the priests knew it. If Eskil ever wanted to find a way to return to his dragon form, he would return with her to her home. He would behave himself, and he would not seek out trouble. Without his wings, without her… He was defenseless against any man who sought to bring him harm. He could not ask any of his brethren for their help, it would be so disgraceful to show his current self in front of them. He was alone without the cursed slayer.

  Eskil looked up at Libelle, both with an unwavering stubbornness in their eyes. “Fine.” He snapped, pulling the clothing from her extended hand. The other remained on the hilt of her sword.

  “Get dressed, eat something, and we are leaving before the sun rises above the eastern peak.” She turned away from him, walking up to Davyn and saying something in a whisper before the two began to walk out of the room. Once again she left Eskil on the floor, only this time he had three men silently staring at him. He unfolded the cotton shirt, finding what he assumed was the front of it and pulled it over his head: still glaring cold daggers at the woman who was well out of his sight.

  Dragon Slayer, I will break you.

  Chapter Five

  Libelle stood outside at the base of the steps of Uppsala, her stallion calmly eating the bucket of oats provided by Olief. His tail flicked back and forth, while she stood by his side, tightening his cinch to the saddle. He lifted his head and nipped at her hands in protest to the tight girth. She playfully swatted at his nose and then offered him a bite of her apple, instead of a bite he kindly took half of the sweet fruit with him.

  She chuckled and brushed some snow from the saddle seat, adjusting the saddle bags over his hips. She had one more journey before she was home, she had to somehow get the man-beast down the mountain side and through two cities without causing an uproar. Olief and Jolgeir provided her with three days’ worth of bread and a bundle of salted meat. Two blankets, and even animal pelts that had been tanned with great craftsmanship.

  She pulled her wolf's pelt tighter around her shoulders and up closer to her neck. The silver and white coat had been collected from multiple wolves, annoying pests to any farmer’s livestock. Their pelts were warm, but worth little. She had a hunter to thank for providing the priests with such a pelt, one large enough to fit snugly around her shoulders and neck; and long e
nough to cover her arms and past her buttocks. A hard metal clasp held the pelts together by her collarbone, another by her heart. Lots of time went into this hide to make it fit so perfectly. She smiled and snuggled herself into the warm fur again.

  Davyn opened the heavy wood doors to Uppsala and with him stepped out Eskil. He wore worn out boots and his pants had holes in them. He clung to the similarly made arrangement of wolf’s hides around him, shivering in the cold: the mountain air was not forgiving. She chuckled as Eskil was fitted with appropriate black pelts, Davyn likely behind the choosing. White for the hero, black for the enemy. He held the fur tightly to his body, exposing the tip of his nose and his gold eyes. His black hair waving about in the wind and it looked like his horns were building up frost already.

  Davyn handed him a small brown sack with a whispered exchange of words, Eskil glared at him but did not respond. He stepped down the steep and slippery stairs and stopped by Libelle and her stallion, who did not seem too keen on the new person. Her stallion stomped and pawed at his empty bucket.

  “Climb on, I won't let him make off with you.” Libelle said, holding her horse's reins in her hands.

  Planning to lead the two down the time consuming slopes that would take them from Uppsala, down to the small hunting village, Braedon where she would purchase him a horse. The safest route would be to head north around the mountain and through Lowestoft, the fastest route however would be to head west into Grimsby. Grimsby had been rebuilt in the last ten years since Eskil initially burned it to the ground, however it was not rebuilt by kind hearted folk. It was not the best route, and with her companions attitude she figured it would be best to take the longer route home. She did not feel like fighting her way home, not through a crowd of bandits and a lord paid off by the thieves.

  Eskil stared at her then back at her horse. She motioned him to climb into the saddle. “Climb on, I’ll lead you down the mountain. It’ll be faster.”