Dragon Prince

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Salena ducked out of the tent.

  “Don’t leave me. I need you.”

  They were not the words he would have chosen if he had time to think about it, but they were honest.

  Grier stood and set his goblet on the table. Every fiber of his being pulled in her direction. He’d felt it the moment he saw her outside the tents, had known it before he even realized his crystal glowed. She was a piece of him, a piece that fit into an empty cavern inside his chest, one that he hadn’t known was there. When he looked into her eyes, he was breathless.

  The rest were just details that he would gladly spend his life learning.

  He wasn’t sure she had heard him, but finally, she stepped back inside.

  “In the morning, I will help you explain the situation to the royals in charge.” Her eyes drifted from him, to the food, to finally land on the bed. “You’re a prince. Surely, they will have to let you take another attempt at a future. I can’t believe the gods would want a life of loneliness for you. And I can’t believe you would be punished for a mistake. Tell me it’s possible to fix this somehow. There has to be a way around the will of your gods. I’m sure this is not the first time a bride was chosen by mistake.”

  She sounded so hopeful even though he knew he’d already explained the crystal to her.

  “No,” he whispered. What she suggested was not possible.

  By all the fires that had ever burned, she was lovely. The torchlight caressed her skin, casting shadows to accentuate her perfect curves. The gown was plain, but that didn’t matter. Nothing could detract from the creature before him. Her lips had an almost hypnotic quality. The graceful flow of her limbs reminded him of those of a dancer. None of those things compared to the soulful brown depths of her eyes. Those were her weapon. All she would have to do is blink in his direction and he would do whatever she wanted.

  Grier had thought married men were exaggerating about the effect their wives had on them, like hunting stories told around the campfire, each one trying to outdo the other.

  “Grier?” she asked. “Can I speak to them on your behalf? Can I try?”

  “That won’t be necessary. They will know your decision when you do not go to announce your acceptance.” Grier took a piece of blue bread and a slice of meat, folding them together before dipping it in a small bowl of broth. He held it out to her.

  She moved slowly toward him. He would give anything to start this night over.

  “Do you have somewhere safe to go once you leave here?” Grier watched as she took the food from him and tried a small bite. “I take it your silence means you do not. I want to propose something.”

  “I already told you, I won’t marry you to protect myself.”

  “Then marry me to protect me.” It didn’t occur to him to try to lie. This was the one person the gods told him he could trust, and he would listen. He might have failed to perform every tradition when it came to marriage, but he would not fail his marriage.

  “Protect you? How?”

  There were many honest ways he could answer that question.

  As the future king, I need to set an example for the people.

  It will make my family happy. It will make my people happy. It will make me happy.

  I wish to be a father someday.

  You are more things than I, a mere dragon, can put into words. The gods would not lead me down the wrong path.

  “I don’t want to spend eternity without my wife,” he said.

  “We’re not married.”

  “We could be.”

  Salena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I do not know all the details, but from what I can gather, the dragon people—”

  “Draig,” he supplied.

  Her eyes opened, and she nodded. “The Draig and the Federation do not share a harmonious relationship.”

  He chuckled. “That is the nicest way I’ve ever heard it said. Yes, it is a delicate balance. They are guests here who have overstayed their welcome.”

  “But they are the Federation, and you cannot kick them off without hurting their feelings,” she said.

  Grier noticed her eyes kept wandering to his chest before quickly darting away. The interest in his physical form gave him some hope. She felt the attraction between them.

  Her gaze met his, and he had the impression she was digging into his thoughts. It was said mates developed telepathy between them. Is that what this was?

  “And what do you think they would do if they thought you had betrayed them somehow? If they thought you had stolen from them?”

  “It would start a war that we shifters could not win. We could easily take out those governing Shelter City, but they would only send more to replace them. It is the Federation. They could send armies if only we gave them an excuse to force their will upon us.”

  “That is my point. I am the last thing you need disrupting the precarious balance. They would not care that you are a prince, or that you married me. They made my value to them perfectly clear. They will come for me, they will find me, and they will do whatever they have to in order to get me back. And they would not be above hurting those I come to care for.”

  He saw the earnestness of that belief and hoped to dissuade her fears. “It is my duty to protect you.”

  “If that is true, then is it not my duty to protect you? I cannot repay your aunt’s kindness, or your cousin’s mercy, or your generosity by causing a war. Do not ask me to put that much death and pain on your doorstep.”

  It was his turn to close his eyes. He held back the pain that tried to wrench from his chest.

  It was one of the few arguments she could have made to stop his begging. He could risk his life a thousand times over to protect her. His people would do the same without question, for she would be their queen. But the cost she ascribed to herself was more than he could ask of her. There were worse things than an honorable death and being to blame for those deaths was one of them.

  She moved toward him. He felt her as sure as he felt the breath entering his lungs. Already, he felt their connection deepening. Knowing her an hour, a day, a year, a lifetime, that was inconsequential to how he felt. The pain would not get easier with time.

  He would do as she asked.

  He would let her go.

  “Even if you say it wouldn’t be my fault, it will have been my doing. I can’t pretend I do not know the cost of such a decision. I need to leave. It’s my only chance.” Her voice had fallen to a whisper. The words were punctuated by a soft touch against his cheek. “But I will never forget your offer. If there is any way I can repay your family—”

  “There is.” He forced the dragon from his gaze before he looked at her. “I need to know where the Federation is landing, and how they are getting people into the city. The more reasons I can find to prove they’re breaking their treaty, the better chance we have of negotiating them off our world.”

  “I don’t know the terrain. I told you, we traveled by land craft for—at my best guess, gauging by food intake—a day and a half. Perhaps three times that if we had been walking by foot, judging by our speed. There were no cities or villages, only pockets of voices of other travelers. They never let me look out when the others were around. Beyond that, I saw trees so dense that the branches sometimes blacked out the sky. I hope that helps.”

  “That is a wide territory. If you help me narrow it down the best you can, I will help you leave and will make sure you are set up somewhere safe, and nice—not at the mercy of Aunt Olena’s pirates.”

  “That is the best I can describe it.” Her hand moved from his face, smoothing over his beard before moving down his neck. “But if it will help you and your family, I will go there with you and try to recognize what I can. That is the least I can do for saving my life…twice. First from the cave, then from this planet.”

  “I will protect you,” he swore. The plan bought him more time with her. That is all he could ask for.

  “I know.”

  He liked that
she accepted him at his word. “We’ll leave in the morning. There is no point in searching the woods in the dark.”

  “Agreed.” She dropped her hand from him. “I am sorry tonight did not work out the way you had hoped.”

  “I met you. That is more than I have hoped.” He grinned, trying to hide the feelings churning inside him. Hot desire fueled his need for her. He wanted to kiss her, to keep kissing her. He wanted to bring her onto the bed and hold her until the universes ended.

  His physical body strained with longing, which pooled in his hips to lift his arousal against the confines of the loincloth.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Sit on the bed,” he requested.

  She gave him a quizzical look but did as he asked.

  Grier took the trays from the food table and brought them to her. He placed them in the middle of the bed before sitting across from her. “If you don’t like what is offered, I’ll have the servants bring something else.”

  She smiled, took some bread, wrapped meat in it and gave it to him. “I think this feast will do just fine.”

  9

  Salena stretched out on the bed and watched as Grier placed the half-empty trays on the food table. She knew the deal they had in place was not the one he’d wanted to come from this night, but it was the best she could agree to. Having him secure her safe passage sounded better than being smuggled by space pirates. And, truthfully, she also wanted to get to know him better—maybe not married at first sight, but perhaps a memory or two that she could daydream about later.

  When he wasn’t chasing her like a dragon, or asking her to be his bride, she found Grier to be enjoyable company. He didn’t appear to mind the effect her ability had on him. It was a nice change for once. She didn’t expect it to last, but it was nice.

  Then there was the loincloth. For all intents and purposes, he might as well have been naked. Very little was left to the imagination…including the telltale bulge trapped in leather. Not that she stared. Correction, not that she tried to stare.

  “You were saying you had two brothers,” Salena prompted.

  “Prince Altair and Prince Creed.”

  “And you’re a prince,” she said.

  “Yes. You know this.” He came back toward the bed and returned to his seat across from her. Only now, there were no trays between them.

  “And Jaxx is a prince,” she added. “Yusef is a prince, and Olena a princess.”

  “Yes.”

  “How many cousins do you have?” Salena tilted her head to the side.

  “First cousins, or extended as well? There are eight first cousins, and more than I have ever cared to count beyond that. Why are you asking?” He came closer, sliding forward on the bed.

  “And you’re all royalty, so this planet has like—what?—twenty princes and princesses? I thought only the children of kings and queens had those titles, so you have multiple kings and queens as well?” She leaned on her arm, bracing herself as she closed a little bit of the distance between them. “That is complicated.”

  “No, one dragon king and queen. We all have the title because our grandmother decided that we were all her princes and princesses. The cat-shifters have one king and queen. There is a family chart in the palace if you are interested in Draig and Var lineages.” He slid a little closer. “What about you? Any family?”

  “My parents died. I have two sisters. We were very close. They’re gone now.” Salena didn’t want to talk about herself.

  “I’m sorry, what happened to—”

  “Would you mind handing me a drink?” She pointed at the table.

  “Of course.” He nodded, going to fetch a goblet.

  Salena pulled at the covers, slipping her legs underneath. He returned, handing her the drink. The stout liquor wasn’t one she was used to, but she managed to swallow it. She nodded her thanks and gave it back.

  Grier set the goblet down, then took the torch from its sconce and carried it outside. The tent was cast in darkness. The silhouette of his figure showed in the entryway as he returned. “I will sleep on the floor.”

  She saw him kneel.

  “You don’t have to do that. This bed is big enough for both of us.” Salena wasn’t sure what prompted the offer. Sleeping close to him would be a temptation she might not be able to resist. Then again, she was an adult. Who said she had to resist?

  “My lady, I might not be the best at keeping traditions, but that is one offer I will have to decline. I don’t think my body can take being that close to you without acting on what I feel, and I have disappointed the gods enough for one night.”

  Salena took one of the pillows and slid off the bed to give it to him. She looked down at him kneeling on the rug. “It doesn’t feel right having you sleep on the ground. Are you sure you won’t sleep on the bed?” Instead of handing it over, she held it up. “We can put this between us. I promise not to breach the pillow wall.”

  “If you insist.” Grier placed his hands on the floor and hopped to his feet. He took the pillow from her and said, “But I can’t promise the same thing.”

  Salena hid her smile. It would seem he didn’t need much convincing after all.

  10

  Salena imagined she could hear breathing coming from the other side of the bed. The sound was so soft that it was difficult to tell if it was real or her imagination. She kept her eyes closed and reached her hand to her side. Her fingers hit the pillow before sliding under it.

  As if he’d been thinking the same thing, she found Grier’s hand was also beneath the barrier. Her fingers rested against his, not taking it any further.

  An electrical current seemed to run up her arm. It tickled its way across her chest and down her stomach. If the brush of his hand made her feel such awareness, she wondered what his kiss would do. There had been a couple of times where she’d thought he might kiss her, but the moments always passed.

  Those thoughts led to others. What would it be like to have someone, to wake up next to him each morning and go to bed with him each night? To never be alone.

  She waited for her sister’s voice to tell her to wake up from the fantasy. For once her head was silent.

  For a brief time, Salena let herself imagine the possibilities.

  The sound of someone slipping a package through the tent flap forced her to open her eyes. With the morning came the end of the dream, dispelled by the light of day.

  “It’s a change of clothes,” Grier said, his voice sleepy. His finger twitched next to hers, but he did not hold her hand. “Next they’ll come around with food.”

  “Does that mean it’s time for us to go?” She kept her voice soft as she looked at the light coming through the side of the tent. Soft noises of the morning came from beyond, the shuffling of feet and the various songs of nature.

  “Soon.” He rested a few seconds longer before finally rolling forward. He pushed his hair back and then scratched his beard. “They didn’t deliver bathwater last night, but there should be a handheld decontaminator with the clothes.”

  Salena pulled her hand from beneath the pillow barrier and covered her mouth as she yawned. Though his nearness at night had been comforting, she felt a sting in her body as she moved. It ached for attention, from her tingling lips down to her toes. Attraction could be very inconvenient at times.

  She watched as Grier ran the handheld decontaminator over his body. Any shiny remnants of oil disappeared under the caress of the green light. It moved over his chest and to his stomach, down a calf and up a thigh.

  Before she thought to stop herself, she stood and went to Grier. He appeared surprised when her hand moved over his to take the decontaminator, but he let her have it. She ran the light over his back, watching it make a slow trip down the length of his spine. She touched his skin where the light cleaned, feeling the warmth against the tip of her finger. His breath caught.

  “I wish we could have met under different circumstances.” Salena completed his back and dropped her hand awa
y from him. She handed him the decontaminator, so he could finish.

  “I wish the same,” he answered.

  She turned her back when he reached for the loincloth, not needing the sight of his naked form haunting her thoughts.

  Well, maybe just one peek.

  She slowly turned her head. Her gaze met his, and she whipped her eyes away. Maybe not.

  The sound of material sliding against skin held her attention. She licked her lips, trying to control the quickening of her heart.

  “I’ll step out so you can dress,” he said. She glanced to see he wore a green tunic shirt that fit snug along the waist, black pants, and a pair of boots. A dragon emblem had been stitched on the chest. “We should leave before the other couples begin to wake up. I don’t want to explain what is happening. We should be able to catch up to Jaxx.”

  Salena pulled off the wrinkled dress she’d slept in and quickly cleaned herself. The gown they provided for her was too fancy for a trip through the forest. The green material was soft and well stitched. The same dragon had been sewn into the bodice. She left it folded on the bed. Instead, she ran the decontaminator over her blue dress to clean it the best she could before putting it back on. Then, before she thought to stop herself, she’d made the bed and arranged the trays on the food table.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Grier said. “They’ll come to dismantle the tent.”

  “My mother always said to make sure you left a place looking as if you had never been there,” Salena answered.

  “If it is within our power, I think we should leave places better than we found them,” Grier said.

  “I’m guessing we had very different childhoods,” Salena observed.

  “How so?” He glanced over her gown.

  She wasn’t about to tell that story to a prince. “I’m ready to go.”

  Grier nodded and lifted the flap so she could step out into the sunlight.

  Outside, the party had raged on, the aftermath of which was a field of sleeping men. Several tents had been dismantled, leaving the area open. The bonfire had all but burnt out, the soft orange glow of embers all that remained of their former glory. The festival grounds looked a lot less daunting in the daytime.