by Meara Platt
He arched an eyebrow, the slight gesture conveying he understood why she was sitting straight as a post. She tipped her chin up and glanced away, but felt the shrug of his broad shoulders against her skin. How could she not feel his every movement while splendidly trapped in his arms? “Please tell me more, my lord.”
“Life here can be as peaceful or violent as in yours, Georgiana. But there are important differences.”
She nodded. “The creatures here are quite different. Your justice is brutal and swift.”
His expression hardened and his voice turned harsh, but she understood it was not aimed at her. “There is no system of justice in my world other than brute strength. If you anger someone, he will kill you. If you have allies, they will in turn kill your assailant. But tomorrow those same allies might decide you are now the enemy and turn on you.” Now finished cleansing her cuts and gashes, he shifted her off his lap and sat her on the mattress. Grabbing his own cup, he refilled it and crossed to the window to stare out of it.
She watched him as he took a hearty gulp and then set down his goblet on the table beside him. Only then did he turn back to her, crossing his arms over his massive chest. “Power and retribution are the rules by which we survive. But that mostly applies to those who remain in the Underworld. Many are just passing through, not yet lost souls, but simply crossing through this realm on their journey to another destination.”
Georgiana was enthralled. “To heaven?”
The mention of heaven must not have pleased him, for his expression once again turned quite forbidding. “Sometimes. Sometimes back to your world as a new soul.”
Georgiana was eager to know more. She decided to press on until she sensed he’d been pushed too far. “And sometimes their souls are too dark to move on so they remain here?”
He glanced toward the window and his realm that lay beyond it. “Aye, trapped here for a myriad of reasons and doomed to remain for eternity.”
“But they can die here as well. What happens to them then?”
He spoke without looking at her, his gaze still fixed on whatever lurked beyond these walls. “They no longer exist. They never return. They can never move on. They simply are no more.”
She rose and walked to stand beside him, wanting to touch him, for this Dragon Lord could not hide the ache of his misery from her. The need to place her hand on him and comfort him was overwhelming, but he moved away before she succumbed to the foolish urge to put her arms around him.
He wasn’t her friend.
He was merely her protector for the moment, and she wasn’t yet certain he was that. At the same time, she knew that he was someone important to her. “Lord Bloodaxe, I won’t deny that I’m desperate to return to my family. I’m terrified here and wish to go home.” She paused a moment to nibble her lip in thought. “Yet, I’m not terrified of you. I know I ought to be, but there’s something about you that is so familiar.”
He would not look at her and his features remained expressionless, but she knew he was troubled by her words. She’d asked him before about their connection. They were more than strangers. Why wouldn’t he tell her? She sensed something else was troubling him, was silently at war within him. “Lord Bloodaxe, are you afraid of me?”
He appeared startled for a moment, and then threw his head back and laughed heartily. “No, I’m not afraid of you. But an innocent does not belong in the Underworld. You were brought through a demon portal and should not have survived the journey, yet you are standing here beside me and very much alive. War will soon be upon us. Why are you here? Why were you given to me? What will happen to you if I take you back to your realm? I don’t know if it is even possible to take you back.”
“Why don’t we try it and see?” She held her breath, knowing he wasn’t likely to agree. But one could always hope. That was one of her strengths. She was always filled with hope. Indeed, she carried buckets full of it within her heart.
“Not tonight, Georgiana.” His laughter faded as he studied her, his sensual gaze causing her blood to turn hot with a new sensation she knew had to be desire. She’d never felt this tingling need for any man before, not even Oliver. Is it possible she desired this stranger? For pity’s sake, why? “But we will try soon.”
Her eyes rounded in surprise. “We will?”
“Yes.” He took a step toward her. “Dragon lords are as fickle as the dragons they shift into. There is no question that I must get you out of here, although I cannot tell you when that will be, only that it must be soon. I’m a dragon, Georgiana. Either I will take you as a bedmate, or… I will eat you for my supper.”
Chapter Three
The hour grew late and Bloodaxe was losing patience with Georgiana’s reluctance to take off her gown. He had only himself to blame for scaring the wits out of her, but she needed to know what he was and the danger he represented to her. “I’m not going to eat you, Georgiana.”
“So you say now. Is that supposed to calm me?” She was standing by the closed window, staring out at the two big moons that were floating like silver balls in the distant, dark red sky. Her long, golden hair spilled over her slight shoulders as she stood quite still, her injured arms wrapped around herself.
“You’re too little and bony to make a decent meal.” He sighed, realizing he was frightening her again. She looked so helpless and lost. How was he to keep her safe once war broke out? “I give you my oath. I’m not going to hurt you in any way.”
She shivered in response.
“Here.” He handed her one of his shirts, wishing he had the ability to heal her with a mere wave of his hand. But Underworld demons were not good healers, often causing more damage with their dark magic. Only the Fae had the ability to heal others and there were no Fae healers here. “You’re cold and obviously tired. You didn’t eat much tonight.”
“I wasn’t hungry. How could I be after what you said? Every bite I took only made me think of my body being chewed in your dragon teeth. Or are they fangs?” She tensed as he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face away from him.
“Snakes have fangs. Dragons have sharp teeth and spiked tails. And we don’t slither on the ground. We have long wings that allow us to soar through the clouds and glide effortlessly on the wind over the lakes and forests we’ve marked as our territory.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “How do you mark your territory?”
“Through conquest and bloodshed. We do not piss on the ground as beasts of your realm do to mark their corners.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“Yes, you did.” But he wasn’t angered by her impertinent question, for he was a beast. The primal instinct of survival was all that was left of him. “Hold still while I untie this tangle of strings that holds your gown together. How can you breathe in this contraption? It must be cutting into your ribs.” He began to work the laces of her gown loose.
She tensed as his knuckles grazed her skin. “What are you doing?”
“I just told you. I’m taking it off you. Hold still.” She had to know he wasn’t going to allow her to sleep in this stained and ruined garment of hers. Indeed, she badly needed some rest. She’d been drugged and unconscious during her abduction. Those drugs and the strain of her journey into the Underworld must have taken a toll on her delicate body.
His nymphs had shown her no mercy and their attack had been vicious. Although Georgiana was not complaining, he knew those cuts were nasty and deep, too raw and exposed to overlook. Had his nymphs been true demons, the damage caused would have been far worse.
“Your gown needs to be burned.” He ignored the softness of her shoulders and the sweet scent of her skin that stirred the dragon ache within his heart. “Take it off.” He turned away and whistled for his dogs to settle on the floor at the foot of his bed while he kept his back turned and tried his best not to think of the sleek silk fabric sliding down her perfect body and falling in a gossamer pool of white at her feet. “Your undergarments as well.”
“I can’t.”
“I’m not going to touch you,” he said with a gentleness that surprised him even more than it surprised her. He’d lost such feelings long ago and never believed they were merely lying dormant for Georgiana to awaken.
His words seemed to calm her.
“Will you sleep in your bedclothes?” she asked as she removed the last of her garments and he heard the light whoosh as they fell to the floor.
“Of course. Wouldn’t want to shock your delicate, English sensibilities.” He usually wore nothing to bed, but Georgiana was already overset. Seeing him naked would likely send her into a fit of hysterics.
He didn’t need a woman shrieking in his ear, not in that way. His usual evening entertainments involved bed games with two or three nymphs, and their shrieks were of the more sensual variety, of pleasure and desire fulfilled. But there would be no such sport with Georgiana this evening. Once she was settled in his bed, he’d grab a pillow and coverlet and stretch out on the floor beside the door. “Are you decent?”
He heard her small voice respond from across the room. “If you consider my wearing your shirt decent, then yes.”
“Good.” He turned to face her and instantly felt a slam to his heart. She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld, even though she was almost lost within the folds of his shirt. She looked so soft and womanly. Her bare legs were nicely shaped. But her allure went far beyond mere physical beauty. Why did she mean so much more to him than that? “Get into bed. I won’t touch you,” he repeated, knowing she was not at all comfortable with their sleeping arrangements.
Perhaps he needed to caution himself as well.
He expected words of protest to spill from her lips and was surprised when she merely nodded and settled her body between the sheets.
Her unexpected compliance troubled him. Did she trust him?
She refused to look at him as she stretched out under the covers. Instead, she turned away so that her back was to him. He’d instructed her to take the far side of the bed, for he wanted to keep her away from any means of access. He and his dogs would put themselves between her and the door. His nymphs had already attacked her.
Who else would come after her in the dark of night?
He sat on the bed beside her, intending nothing more than to take off his boots. As he sat, the weight of his body put a dip in the mattress, causing Georgiana to slide closer to him. She quickly scrambled away. He sighed. “You needn’t worry. I don’t eat sleeping virgins either.”
“Ah, thank you for those soothing words. I shall sleep ever so calmly now.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, but she also sounded fatigued and could not hide it.
“I give you my oath, Georgiana. I will not harm you.” He would repeat it as often as she needed to hear it. “I’m merely taking off my boots. I’ll sleep on the floor tonight. Get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”
However, he knew his sleep would be as restless as hers was bound to be. Georgiana. She was his weakness. He longed to lie beside her and feel her body curled against his.
She would likely be the death of him. But what a sweet death it would be.
“What is to happen tomorrow?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to hide her trepidation.
War. Danger. “I don’t know.”
“But you just said it would be busy. So why–”
“By the Stone of Draloch! Stop asking questions.”
He groaned inwardly, knowing he’d probably frightened her again.
But she merely sighed with impatience. “You would be doing the same if our situations were reversed.”
“Perhaps.” But he knew it was not so. He wouldn’t be bothering with questions. He’d be shifting into a dragon and setting his abductors and all they possessed ablaze. He’d be sweeping across their lands, a great dark shadow bellowing flames until all that lay in his path was scorched and burned to ashes. Indeed, he wouldn’t bother with questions. Those foolish enough to attempt to take him had to know they would die.
She continued to study him, but her lids were heavy from fatigue and he noticed a yawn escape her generous lips. Those lips! They were perfectly shaped and would feel exquisite when they yielded to the pressure of his mouth. When they yielded? No, he wasn’t going to kiss her. Not ever. He shook his head and studied her.
Her lips were adorably puckered and she was still frowning at him. “I don’t think I can stop asking questions. I’ve been brought to a strange land against my will and attacked by strange creatures. I have a right to know what my purpose is here.” Her breaths turned short and ragged. “Or if I am meant to survive.”
“Damn it, Georgiana.” He slammed his fist into the mattress, causing the entire bed to rattle. Blasted Stone of Draloch and the games it played with their fates! No doubt he’d frightened her again. “I’ve already told you that I don’t know why you’ve been brought here. I have no answers for you.”
She’d scrambled to the opposite edge of the bed again, but her gaze as she stared at him remained one of irritation and not terror. “My lord, is your disposition always so sour before bed?”
“Worse.” He groaned and shook his head, finally giving in to the urge to laugh. She wasn’t afraid of him which meant she trusted him not to hurt her. That pleased him more than he dared admit. “I’m usually much worse.”
But her trust, coupled with the heat she ignited in him, dangerously stirred his dragon lust. He turned away from her. In any event, he needed to keep an eye on the door he’d made certain to securely bolt earlier. He’d also locked the windows to prevent unwanted creatures from flying in unannounced.
They were now sealed in his quarters and the air was so hot and stifling, the room felt more like a locked tomb.
But it couldn’t be helped. Although he hadn’t spotted them yet, he knew Brihann’s demon spies were scouting outside his fortress. Brihann’s armies would likely soon be poised on the border between their territories awaiting the order to attack his lands. That order would be issued the moment he attempted to return Georgiana to her home.
How was he to sneak her through a portal while the High King was watching?
He dared not risk it yet for several reasons, the most troubling one being that he was in no hurry to rid himself of Georgiana’s company. He meant to take advantage of each precious moment spent with her, for war between the realms of man and demon was looming. He didn’t know what the outcome would be or whether either of them would survive.
However, he was a warrior, a Dragon Lord, and expected to be in the vanguard of the great battles. He didn’t care what fate awaited him. But what of Georgiana? Why had she been tossed in with him?
He needed to learn the answers from the Stone of Draloch. But the journey to the palace of the Fae king where that monolith stood would take too long, and after today’s incident with his nymphs, he dared not leave Georgiana behind for any length of time.
Nor could he take her with him. Brihann was guarding the portals. In any event, travel between realms was too dangerous for a mortal. Especially when there were forces who did not wish her to leave. Brihann wasn’t the only one to worry about. He doubted the Stone of Draloch would permit him to carry her off to safety when Georgiana had been brought into the Underworld for a purpose yet unknown.
If her presence was meant to shake him to the very depths of his demonic core, it had worked. There were only two beings across time and realms that he would sacrifice his life to protect.
Georgiana was one of them.
After an hour had passed, Bloodaxe quietly strode to the bed and knelt beside her small frame. Had she fallen asleep yet? Her eyes were closed and she was breathing calmly. He inhaled her scent and ran his fingers along her cheek that was warm and pink and tempting. “Georgiana–”
“If you’re thinking of making untoward advances, don’t. I took one of the dinner knives and hid it under my pillow.”
He groaned lightly, amused by her attem
pt to protect herself. “A dinner knife? Why would you tell me that and lose the element of surprise?” He strode to the pallet he’d fashioned for himself by the door and picked up his battle axe. The weapon was almost as big as she was and probably weighed more than she did with boots on and sopping wet. He returned to her side and carefully propped it against the footboard.
“What are you doing?” she asked when he knelt beside her once more.
“Why do you think I’m known as Lord Bloodaxe? This is my preferred instrument of battle.” He pointed to the blade that was within easy reach. “I always keep it finely honed and close at hand. Do you think your puny knife would ever save you from my axe?”
“No, but you vowed that you would never harm me.”
He nodded. “I meant it.”
She drew the covers up to her neck so that only her face was showing as she gazed at him. “Then why did you come to my side and whisper my name?” She sighed when he failed to respond. “Rest easy, my lord. I would never use my puny knife, or any weapon for that matter, against you. My heart simply won’t allow it. I don’t understand why I trust you so completely even when you’ve threatened me and purposely frightened me.”
“Your heart knows I will not harm you.”
“Then why are you still hovering over me?”
“I’m kneeling beside you. I merely wish to make certain you haven’t developed a fever.” He used the explanation as an excuse to run his knuckles across her cheek again. “How do you feel?”
She stifled a yawn. “Tired, but otherwise fine.”
“Are you in pain?”
She nodded. “But only a little. My arms are throbbing. I’m afraid to sleep and yet my body is so weary, I yearn for it.”
“Then close your eyes and stop fighting against your exhaustion.” He settled his gaze on her, knowing he was making a mistake to remain so close, but he needed to breathe in her scent, that sweet, clean aroma of wildflowers and strawberries.
