Dragon Touch (Soul of a Dragon Book 1)

by Ashley Frost

  “I’ll be standing over there for as long as I can. Try not to get your pretty-self hurt. That’s an order.”

  “Overbearing,” she muttered as he strode away.

  “Oi!” Greta shouted. “Are you done flirting yet? Or are you taking the day off?”

  “Coming!” Constance shouted back. She zipped over to Greta’s side.

  “I was thinking I’d die before you decided to start working. Good that you’re here now. I need a hundred peeled fisslire nuts.”

  “Fisslire nuts? But those shells take forever to get off. What do you need them for anyway? You only need half a nut to make a single person’s day’s worth of sore-throat medicine.”

  “Trust me, sweetheart. I’ll need a lot more than a day’s worth.” Greta rolled her eyes. “All these dragons are always breathing fire recklessly, without blinking an eye to think what it’d do to their throats. I think half the village will need fisslire nuts this month.”

  She stood there for a while, hesitant. She half considered walking home. The fisslire shells usually felt like they were glued to the nuts. It normally took her one good hour to pry a shell off. It’d take days to finish a whole batch of a hundred.

  “Is there something else for me to do?” she said. She sounded whiny, which annoyed herself.

  “You could leave.”

  She groaned, “Fine.”

  “Excellent. The nuts are next to the table where you boiled that horrid brew. Try not to mess anything up.”

  She walked up to the huge disorganized pile Greta had left behind. “Oh, heavens no,” she cursed. Finding the nuts themselves seemed like a bigger chore than peeling them. She faced her task, feeling much less excited than she had been when she first arrived. “I’ll prove it to that old woman,” she mouthed. “Every single one of these nuts will be perfectly peeled.”

  Was Rayse aware about what Greta would make her do? She looked toward him. He had a wide, knowing grin spread across his cheeks. That bastard! He knew. It was the first time she’d seen him grin.

  ***

  Constance’s fingers blistered from the number of nuts she had peeled. “Fifty,” she said to herself. Only half of them done. She hated this place. Greta was the devil personified, and Rayse was no better.

  He had left a while ago. The sun had set half an hour before. She’d been peeling nuts the whole day.

  “And the girls back home think being married to a dragon meant they could be treated like princesses,” she muttered.

  Most of the physicians and nurses had dismissed themselves. Greta was tending to the last patients of the day. She’d only seen a dragon wife or two with a cold. The rest of the patients were male dragons who sustained some sort of injury because of a skirmish somewhere. A new dragon came in with a physical wound every other hour.

  She had asked Greta why so many of them were injured. Many of the wounds came from friendly fights, but the majority were from warriors who were attacked around Yvrdeen’s borders. There were many rogue dragon clans in Yvrdeen and Falron who had not fallen under Rayse’s rule, and far more clans outside of Yvrdeen and Falron who occasionally tried to take control of the village.

  They always underestimated the size of Rayse’s clan, however. The smarter clans tended to stay away. So, no large losses were commonly sustained.

  “You’re so slow,” Greta said, shaking her head.

  “You could have asked some of the nurses to help.”

  “My nurses are busy, child.”

  “I saw them going home much earlier. I didn’t have to be the one peeling those nuts. I could have made brews instead. It’d be more effective for me to do what I’m good at.”

  Greta sat down and sighed. “You’re still haughty. Well, overconfidence is not necessarily a bad thing.” She gathered the nuts and placed them in a sieve.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Watch and learn, child.”

  Greta dipped the fisslire nuts into a boiling pot of water for a few seconds, then took them out. Constance peered over Greta’s shoulder suspiciously. Greta picked up a nut, brushed her finger over it, and the shell slipped right off.

  The revelation sent her reeling with anger. “You could have done that all along!” She smoothed her thumb over an index finger. Her fingers hurt from the blisters. “What was the point of me having to go through that all afternoon?”

  “To teach you a lesson.” Greta seemed unfazed by her outburst. “Every dragon doctor knows this trick, and yet, you don’t. I believe in efficiency. Us doctors are supposed to make sure the patient gets well. The sooner they recover, the better doctors we are.”

  “And not telling me is efficient, how?”

  “Not telling you how to peel those nuts makes a point. You know little, child. All of us know little. And understanding that will make you improve by leaps and bounds. If you don’t accept that you are incapable, you will stagnate quicker than rain water on a flat pavement.”

  “I never said I knew everything.”

  “Ah, but you believed you were the smartest.” Greta tapped Constance’s nose in a condescending, but oddly too-familiar, gesture. “I don’t doubt that you’re smart, dear. I took you on as an apprentice because I recognize you are. But you’re too confident for your own good. I must admit, you are talented in the magical arts. I’ve never seen anyone grasp its nature and control it the way you do. However, just because you’re talented with healing, doesn’t mean you’ve mastered the art and are good at it. Mastery takes time, patience, and practice.”

  Did Greta just praise her? It made her feel awfully happy. That was the first kind thing the old woman had said. She still wouldn’t forgive Greta for her blistered fingers, however. “Um, thank you.”

  “Don’t let those praises get to your head, my dear. Well, you still haven’t left the infirmary, and you stayed past working hours despite having the most mind-numbing job here. You have determination, I’ll give you that. You’ve passed my test.”

  “Test?”

  “Yes, to be my apprentice of course. I can’t take on random apprentices. I’d have no time for myself. You didn’t think I took you in just because you’re Rayse’s mate, did you?”

  She shrugged. “That thought had crossed my mind.” Although she also believed she herself had what it takes.

  “No, dear, it’s because you have potential, and an immense amount of it. But remember, potential does not equate to mastery.”

  “I think you’ve driven that point home.”

  The dragon woman laughed. “Ah, yes. Being old does make me ramble a lot.” Greta picked up a soaked towel and handed it to her. “Use this, dear. It’s the same concoction of sparroweed and crescent leaf I taught you earlier, but brewed to perfection this time. That should help cure your blisters. Apply it for twenty minutes, then remove the rag. You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now, Rayse said he’d hang me if I left you to go home alone, so come along now. I’ll walk you back.”

  Numbed, she watched as the plump old lady picked up a walking stick and ambled away. Did Greta need that walking stick? Rayse mentioned the dragon lady was strong enough to battle the younger dragons. Constance glanced down at the sweetly-scented rag. Greta really was being nice, wasn’t she? Maybe the dragon decided she had tormented her enough.

  Constance scratched her head, not knowing what to think about the conversation. Did it mean that Greta would start teaching her more useful things the next day? She really hoped so.

  “We should follow,” Nanili said. “My master insisted upon you not leaving Greta’s sight.”

  As usual, she hadn’t noticed the mishram’s presence until the creature spoke.

  “Oh yes, we should go.” Constance picked up a book Greta had given her earlier to study. In retrospect, she should have read the book before peeling the fisslire nuts. Greta had been right about her. She thought she wouldn’t learn anything new because she assumed she had a firm grasp of h
ow to use the nuts.

  The old woman stopped in her tracks and turned around. “What’s the hold up? Are you waiting for me to die?”

  Constance cursed under her breath, then took brisk steps toward Greta.

  ***

  Constance inspected her fingers. The blisters weren’t stinging anymore. She hated to admit it, but Greta’s concoction worked better than most brews she’d come across. She was sitting in the living room, book spread open. She couldn’t wait for the day Greta’s jaw dropped at her feats. She’d memorize every damn thing in it if that was what it took.

  “It’s bright souls are especially potent at curing symptoms of fevers,” she muttered to herself. She was on the chapter about fisslire nuts. The first page spoke of how to peel its shells off. She hated herself for that.

  The door creaked open, and moonlight shone upon a shadowy figure.

  The man who killed her mother.

  Rayse stepped out from the darkness.

  Her heart beat furiously in her chest. She willed it to calm. Memories of her real mother hadn’t come to her for years, but flashes had started since she arrived at the village.

  “Do you always have your face buried in a book?” he asked.

  She hoped she didn’t look too scared. Her fear had mostly seeped away. “It’s a habit of mine. I’m exhausted.” She was ready to collapse onto the bed.

  He knelt and inspected her. He was so close, she could almost kiss him. “You do look tired.” He sniffed the air. “And I smell blood.” Gently, he took her hand, lifted it to his gaze, and frowned. “Greta’s been pushing you too hard.”

  “I thought you said she liked to kick sense into people.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t think she’d make you hurt yourself. I’ll have a word with her later.” He took the rag Greta had given her and dabbed her fingers. The action was oddly sensual. She could feel the heat rising within her. She prayed she wouldn’t become lustful again.

  Thankfully, she didn’t. Maybe it was because of her tiredness.

  “Don’t,” she said, pulling her hand back.

  She caught a second of disappointment flash across his face, but only a second, and then he was back to his maintained self.

  “Constance…” He dragged a thumb across her cheek. Its warmth made her flush. A dragon’s fingers were hotter than an ordinary person’s. “Why are you so afraid of me? Was it the first night? I know I shouldn’t have taken you without your consent, but it was the mating. I had no control.” He clasped a strand of her hair between his fingers.

  Those eyes… they could kill her. It was part of his dragon magic. That was why he had such an effect of her. She realized how foolish it sounded. The only form of magic that existed in their world was soul magic, and Rayse didn’t look like he was using any of that. “It’s because…”

  He stared so intensely at her, it was almost as if she had the answers on her face.

  No, it wasn’t the first night. She felt the mating as strongly as he did. She had begged for it and was conflicted, but didn’t hate the passion she had experienced. That wasn’t it. A secret part of her loved it.

  “Because, you are…” Because he was a dangerous man. And men like him couldn’t be trusted. Her mother had laid with her killer, and she died by his hands anyway. The memory sent tears rolling from her eyes. A few drops grew to tens of them. “I don’t want to think about it, Rayse. It hurts.”

  He seemed worried as he pulled her toward his chest. “Shh. It’s okay.” He rested his chin on her forehead. His body felt firm. It felt dependable and almost safe. Don’t trust, can’t trust, she reminded herself. But as she cried by his side, the words started to take less effect on her conscience. Soon, she was shaking in his strong arms, wondering why this man managed to break down her walls.

  ***

  “No good,” Constance said, throwing aside the medicine rag from the previous night. It had been aired out too long to be of any use. Most of the medicine had lost its potency. Her eyes were swollen and she didn’t have anything to relieve it. Her fingers were still injured, but many of the bumps had gone and only a few scabs remained. She hoped the scabs wouldn’t make her any less skilled later that day, and if Greta was going to make her peel anything else, she’d have none of that.

  “Are you feeling better?” Rayse asked. He was leaning against a wall, shirtless. She couldn’t look at him for longer than a second. She was afraid she’d explode if she stared at him any longer than that.

  Why had she broken down last night? That was so uncharacteristic of her. “Other than feeling like somebody knocked me over the head? I’m great.”

  “At least you have some humor left in you. Do you want to skip work today?”

  She pressed a wet cloth to her eyelid. The water was cool because they were so high up in the mountains. Cooling swells always worked, though not quickly enough. “No,” she said. “I don’t want to see Greta’s smug face. She might think I’m skipping work because I’ve caved from her treatment.”

  “I’ll have a word with her at least.”

  “None of that either. She’ll think I’m some weak sapling that needs to be protected by the clan leader.”

  Rayse leaned his head to the side. “Your stubbornness has such a sense of familiarity.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s too much like mine.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have too many arguments then. We might be at the end of our thousand-year lifespan before the next quarrel is resolved.”

  “You’re usually quite the spitfire.” He stepped closer, then placed a hand on her waist and pulled her in. She flinched.

  He released her. “Until I near you, that is. I won’t try to get too close today. Don’t want another one of my shirts damp.”

  He was kidding, right? Because he didn’t smile at all when he talked about his shirt. He might have actually been angry about it.

  “Rayse…” she said. “I know that I’m attracted to you.”

  He cocked a brow. “Then, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s like an instinct, the fear. It’s not just my past which is affecting me. Something inside of me is telling me not to get too close to you. Before The Offering, that instinct screamed to me. It was like my soul was trying to yell at me not to get close to you.” Despite that, here she was, fessing up to him, letting him on her insecurities.

  He nodded. “You slept within my arms all night without qualms. I just thought it’d be different today. This voice, though. That’s not normal. Could it be a side effect of the mating?” He pressed his lips together. “I’ve never heard of such a thing happening. I pray that one that you will trust me enough to let me know about your past.”

  Her heart sunk looking at his sad expression. She wanted to tell him about what happened to Crescent Rinehart. She stopped herself before letting the memory take hold of her again. She didn’t want to go into another embarrassing crying fit.

  “Well, since you’re going to work,” he said, “we should head off. I don’t want Greta to scream at me, too.”

  They arrived at the infirmary after a twenty-minute trek downhill. Nanili came along this time. Rayse mentioned that the mishram did most of her chores yesterday, so she had more time to spare.

  Marzia sat close to the entrance of the infirmary. A large scab had formed around a wound on her friend’s knee. Some parts of the wound were still bright red and bleeding.

  “What happened?” Constance asked.

  Marzia smiled wryly. “I fell yesterday while sending Fraser off for his run. I didn’t have him to guide me home and it was dark. I’m still not used to these cliffs.”

  “You should have asked someone else to come along. These slopes are rocky with sharp edges, perfect for causing cuts and bruises.”

  A nurse came along with a handful of bandages. “Now, this might sting a little bit,” the nurse said.

  Marzia flinched as medicine was applied to her wound. “Ow. A little is quite the understatement.” The dragon wife b
it down on her lip.

  The nurse wrapped the bandages around the knee. The woman worked quickly, even faster and more accurately than Constance did.

  “You’re fast,” Constance said.

  “I’ve had about three hundred years of practice.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Three hundred years? How is that possible?” She then remembered dragon wives lived as long as their husbands. Were they supposed to look this young for so long, however? “You don’t look a day over twenty.” In fact, she possessed more beautiful golden locks than Constance had seen on any maiden. Her skin gleamed with porcelain smoothness.

  The nurse grinned. “Thank you. It’s part of the bond. Dragon’s vitality. Our looks don’t correspond with our age as much. Most females don’t look past middle-age until they’re more than five hundred years old.”

  That was good news.

  “When are you getting your bond?” the nurse said. “You’ll feel much better when you do. Plus, the whole village is counting on you.”

  “Counting on me?” She furrowed her brows.

  “A dragon becomes more powerful after bonding. It’s important for our leader to be strong. And if you don’t mate soon enough—”

  Rayse flashed a look of warning to the nurse. She shut up immediately.

  Constance glanced up at Rayse. “I… didn’t know that. Was that what Greta meant by dangerous, yesterday?”

  He shrugged, irking her.

  “I already have mine,” Marzia said, her cheeks turning red. “Fraser wanted to complete the mating before he left.” She dragged her sleeve up her shoulder to reveal an intricate tattoo. It wrapped around her arm like a bangle. On closer inspection, Constance could see that the tattoo was in the shape of a dragon. “This appeared after the bond was complete. Beautiful, isn’t it? It burned like mad, though.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Constance said, still examining the gorgeous design. She reached out to touch it.

  Marzia rolled her sleeve back down. “It still stings a little bit.”

  “Aren’t you going to apply some medicine on it?” Constance asked the nurse.

  The nursed waved her hand. “No, it’s fine. It’ll heal by this afternoon all on its own. Hm, that explains why you had trouble walking down the slopes.” The nurse laughed sheepishly. “Dragons aren’t known to be gentle when mating, or when doing anything else for that matter.”