Soulfire: A Dragon Fantasy Romance (Nightwing Book 1)

by Juliette Cross

  There was a surge of energy charging the air with a soundless snap of power that raised gooseflesh on Morga’s skin. A shimmer of blue light radiated in a halo around the spot where the dragon had stood.

  “Where are you, demon!” shouted Rolf, twisting this way and that and swinging his sword.

  Out of the cool mist into a pool of moonlight stepped a man of gargantuan proportions—naked and glorious. Fully seven feet tall, bronze skin covered every perfect part of him. His black hair had a silvery sheen much like his scales and wings in dragon form. Unashamed by his nakedness, he stepped closer to Rolf, not as if he approached a threat but perhaps were taking a casual stroll in the gardens.

  “From which clan do you hail, beast?” demanded Rolf. “Your kind is not allowed here, and you know it.”

  The dragon man stopped before him, out of reach of Rolf’s sword. “I am King Radomis, Dragon King of the North, Descendant of the Great Nightwing Forefathers, and Ruler of all the lands of Drakos.”

  Morga gasped, her pulse racing wildly. His deep voice rolled like a dark storm. The hand the king held at his side twitched, as if a response to her soft sound in the quiet night. But he did not look her way.

  This was no mere dragon. This was their king, known even in the west for his fearlessness and his fierce ruling of the north in order to keep his dragons in check. Under his reign for the past one hundred years, there had been no raids of human villages in the south or the west. He kept his clans bountiful and satisfied, and he punished the criminals with ruthless swiftness so that no one dared to repeat the crime thereafter. This was what scholars and bards whispered about King Radomis, the Great Dragon King of the North.

  He took a step closer to Rolf. “And who are you, little man?”

  Rolf’s sword arm shook, but he still held it in a defensive pose even though the king made no threat against him.

  “I am the king’s guard,” he said before swallowing hard. “I protect his royal daughter, Princess Morga.”

  That was when the king’s head turned in her direction, his piercing blue gaze finding her without fail. Morga did not move as he held her there, entranced. “Princess Morga.” He said her name and she hitched in a breath. She felt his voice reaching through her skin and flesh to her bones, tightening under her ribcage around her heart. With a slight nod, a regal bow of his head, he turned back to Rolf. “Protect her, you say?”

  “Yes. I am the senior officer of the king’s guard. I—”

  Before Morga could blink, the king had disarmed him with a swift movement and had his large hand around Rolf’s throat. He then lifted him a foot into the air with Rolf kicking and clawing at his captor’s arms, much like Morga had been moments before.

  “How does it feel, little man?”

  Even from her crouched position in the shadows, Morga could see Rolf’s face purpling and his eyes bulging.

  “Can you not speak?” asked the dragon king. “Of course not.” He bent his arm, drawing Rolf closer to him, his legs dangling uselessly. “I would let you go but for what I see in your eyes. A man filled with lust and greed, a twisted soul who will do more harm and little good. And a man who dared to touch her with violence and dark deeds on his mind. Therefore…”

  With a swift snap of his wrist, he cracked Rolf’s neck. He then dropped the dead man to the ground and turned toward Morga.

  She should be afraid. She should scream. She should run in terror. But none of those emotions or actions compelled her as he walked within the moon shadow of the tree where she crouched. He did nothing to conceal his nudity from her. He seemed unaffected by the cold air or the need for modesty. Morga could not help but let her eyes wander across his broad shoulders, down his firm chest and chiseled abdomen to the V angling toward his manhood. Her pulse raced to realize it was in equal proportion to the rest of him, then she skimmed down his muscled thighs to his feet, which stopped directly in front of her.

  He bent over and she crouched farther, thinking he would snatch her to her feet. Instead, he lifted her cloak still strewn on the ground and stood before her.

  “Princess.”

  She dared to look up enough to see him offering his hand. Having survived what she foresaw would be a terrible nightmare with Rolf, her emotions overwhelmed her, spilling over into tears as she stared up at him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Since she would not rise, he crouched with her. Once again she was caught in ethereal blue. This man radiated with power. No. Not a man, she reminded herself.

  “However may I repay you?” she asked. “I owe you my life.”

  She waited to be ravaged against her will or to be eaten by his beastly form as she was warned would happen should she ever meet one of the fearful dragons of the north. But he apparently intended neither. With a gentle gesture, he steadied on his knees and wrapped the cloak around her shoulders. This was not the monster she had been told of since she was a little girl.

  “You owe me nothing. But I wish you would stop crying,” he said, brushing the back of his index finger down one of her cheeks. “For it breaks my heart.”

  His tender touch and gentle words made her ache with longing. He cupped her cheek and she pressed into his palm. A soothing sensation swept through her body, wiping away all anger and fear.

  “I am in your debt,” she said.

  “You are not. You may take that path.“ He gestured with a nod toward the lane. “And run toward whatever destiny you choose.”

  “You saw me earlier?”

  “Yes.” He raised his other hand to cup her face gently. “I never fly this far on my night haunts. But something compelled me to go west, an urging of my dragon I could not resist. Then I caught scent of something heavenly, like jasmine blooms in the dawn of spring. I had to discover what hailed me so far from home. I honed in on the scent, finding a beautiful woman fleeing down the moonlit path. I followed on the night-wind, for she was indeed breathtaking. I would have let her go. But then she was caught and my dragon demanded vengeance.”

  Morga should regret his killing Rolf, but she could not. Whether her heart had no pity for creatures such as him, she did not know. She only knew that Rolf’s deplorable actions had led this man to her. Whatever fortune led him to her, she was grateful.

  His voice dipped even lower. “I would free you from the burden that made you run away.”

  She placed her small hand over his against her cheek. He offered more than any man had ever done in her entire life—more than riches or lands or a crown. He offered her freedom.

  “Tell me,” she pleaded. “What may I give you in exchange for this gift?”

  He stood and offered her his hands. She took them and let him lift her to her feet.

  “If I may, I would ask for a small token.”

  “Name it, and it is yours.”

  He swept a lock of her hair away from her face, trailing his fingers around the nape of her neck, his thumb resting on her collarbone. “A kiss.”

  Heartbeat thrumming faster, she licked her lips. “A kiss?”

  He nodded, eyes brightening with an otherworldly power.

  “Then you shall have it,” she promised, stepping within his strong arms and skating her palms up his bare chest to his shoulders.

  Because he was so tall, he wrapped his hands around her waist under her cloak, nearly spanning the entire width, and lifted her off her feet with ease till they were eye level together. He eased in gently, brushing his lips against hers with a light sweep of his tongue over the seam. Morga moaned at the sweet delicacy of his kiss and curled her arms around his neck, pressing her chest to his.

  He shifted and banded his arms around her, a growl rumbling in his chest as he opened his mouth against hers and angled deeper. Stroking his tongue inside, he wove her under his spell, kissing her senseless. The electric energy amplified within seconds, then Morga felt a sharp snick inside her chest. Instantly, his kiss became something far more than she had ever dreamed. Like molten honey pouring down h
er throat, a wave of divine ecstasy shot through her bloodstream straight to her heart. She whimpered and moaned, opening her mouth wider to take whatever he was giving her, this dragon elixir that skated through her veins like lightning. But she knew what it was. She had heard legends of soulfire. It could be nothing else. She felt his pulse beating in tune with her own, their hearts binding to one another. A binding that only death could sever.

  She pulled away, touching her forehead to his. “How could this be?”

  He opened his piercing eyes, their lips hovering close. He panted lightly. “It has never happened between a dragon and a human.”

  “Soulfire. Is it not?”

  He nodded gravely.

  “Then I know my destiny. And it is you, my king.” She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, his body heat warming every part of her, inside and out. Angling her mouth over his parted lips, she flicked her tongue in teasingly. “I want you inside me,” she whispered against his lips, not caring that it was improper for a virgin princess to speak of such desires. Her passion and yearning for him overrode all such trivial nonsense.

  He growled from deep within his gut, and she knew she spoke to the dragon as well as the man.

  “I will not take my queen on the cold ground amongst villains and fiends. I will take you in my castle and in our royal bed.”

  Their hearts beating as one, she said, “Then take me there.”

  At once, he set her on her feet and fastened her cloak with the one button that had not been torn from its stitching. He did not say a word as he walked away toward the lane and faced her, his glorious hard body a sight she would never forget. A crackle of energy like the splintering of a storm wrapped in an orb of blue light vibrated three times before a blinding flash pierced the darkness. Out of the hazy blue mist the black dragon raised his head, growl rumbling in his chest, sounding more like a rough purr along Morga’s skin.

  She knew what to do. Stepping lightly toward him, she locked with his mesmerizing eyes and rubbed a hand over his shining scales that were surprisingly soft to the touch. He purred again as she caressed him. Then she scrambled up his leg and between his wings, straddling the flat of his back and gripped one of the horn-sized spines that jutted along his neck.

  “I am ready, my king. Take me home.”

  With a bellowing growl he stomped the ground then reared up, beating his powerful black wings and lifting them into the night. Morga held her breath as they soared higher, rising above the castle and the peasant village, rising higher still until she was bathed in nothing but moonlight and stars and the fierce beating heart of her dragon king.

  Other books in the Morgon World

  Don’t miss these other titles in the exciting dragon hybrid world…

  WINDBURN (Nightwing #2)

  NIGHTBLOOM (Nightwing #3)

  DRAGON HEARTSTRING (Vale of Stars Prequel)

  Author Note

  I’d like to sincerely thank you, the reader, for spending some time in the Morgon world. And I hope that you will continue the journey. I have so many plans for the heroes and heroines of this world as war and darkness settles over the land in the rest of the NIGHTWING series as well as the spin-off series VALE OF STARS. And while sometimes there will be loss and heartache, just as in real life, there will always be light and love at the end of the day. Thank you again for taking a chance on this new series. And stay tuned for a full glossary of the Morgon clans and their gifts, which will be listed in the VALE OF STARS and my website.