by Meara Platt
“I’m not, Georgiana. I’m admiring you. There is a difference.” He took a step back and gave a quick wave of his hand.
She felt a soft, tingling sensation rush through her body. “What did you just do to me?”
“Not to you, but to your hem. I fixed it.” She barely had a moment to glance down and inspect his handiwork before he took her by the elbow and moved them along the garden pathway. “See, you’re not tripping over it any longer.”
She shook her head and laughed. “How are you with baking biscuits?” She was not surprised by his abilities whether in battle or in the domestic realm, for everything about this demon lord felt magical.
“Never tried conjuring them.” His humor suddenly faded. “But I might have to resort to it once we’re in hiding. I’ll give you a pouch of supplies to take with you on your climb up the Razor Cliffs. You may need to hide out for several days afterward and will require food and drink to sustain you.”
Georgiana felt her eyes well with tears once more, but managed to maintain control. She refused to turn into a watering pot at the thought of parting from him. He was a stranger to her and a dangerous one at that. She knelt, pretending to study a bed of red roses, for she did not want him to notice that she could not shake off her sorrow. “Will I see you again, assuming I ever make it out of here?”
“Hopefully not.”
She shot back to her feet and turned to face him, all thought of hiding her feelings forgotten. “Why not? Why can’t we?”
“By the Stone of Draloch,” he muttered with a shake of his head, “you ought to be pleased that your nightmare will soon come to an end. Why would you ever wish to see me again? I can only bring death and destruction to your door.”
“No, you would protect me.” She was about to place a hand on his arm, then realized it was his wounded arm, so she set her hand over his heart instead. “Can you conjure a basin of water and a cloth? Is your wound deep enough to require stitches? If so, I’ll also need a needle and thread to–”
“Georgiana, I will take care of it later. I do not need you to fuss over me.” He drew back as though her hand was a flame and her touch had burned him.
“Forgive me.” She had intended no insult, but he seemed to have taken it that way. “I did not mean to suggest you cannot manage for yourself. I only sought to be useful.”
He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I know. But you cannot help me. No, let me correct that. You can only help me by getting out of here and then staying as far away from me as possible. You and I must never see each other again.”
“Never?”
He spelled it out for her. “N-e-v-e-r. How much plainer must I say it?”
Chapter Six
Bloodaxe stared at Georgiana, more confused than ever by the despair he saw in her eyes. Did she wish to stay with him?
Sweet madness! The fiery urge to mate with Georgiana already consumed him with a hunger that ate him raw. He needed no encouragement from her. Indeed, he wanted this innocent in his life for all eternity. He wanted her to stand by his side as she was now. He wanted to talk with her and look upon her beautiful face.
He simply wanted to be with her, that desire so desperately painful, it tore at his already aching heart.
But what he spoke and what he felt were different matters. He’d told her that he would help her escape and he meant it. The Stone of Draloch might prevent her leaving, but he didn’t care. It was important that he follow his instincts to whatever fate was intended for them.
However, he would not allow any harm to befall Georgiana.
Not ever.
Necros did not know it yet, but he was a dead man… a dead goblin, for he had tried to harm Georgiana, and in that moment, had sealed his doom. Revenge would be exacted. But he would not go after Necros until this beautiful innocent was safely back in her realm. He did not want Georgiana to see him for the cold-hearted, bloodthirsty beast he truly was. He growled softly. “Don’t look at me that way.”
Her moss-green eyes widened. “How am I looking at you?”
“In a soft, adoring way.” They were still standing in his garden, green grass all around them and green leaves above them from the overhanging tree branches, yet all he noticed was the green of her eyes. Her hair was a wild, tumbling gold that fell down her back and over her shoulders, a reminder of the sunlight he’d forsaken decades ago.
“Then how am I to look at you? By your own words, you’ve told me not to pout and now you don’t want me to smile. I can’t be angry with you and I refuse to cry. I’ve run out of suitable expressions.” She frowned lightly and began to nibble her fleshy lower lip, the casual gesture sending flames of desire shooting through his body. “I’ll do my best to look indifferent.”
She trailed her fingers along the broad length of his chest. He almost leaped out of his skin. “What are you doing?”
“You didn’t say not to touch you.” She cast him an impatient look. “If you must know, I’m still concerned about the wound to your arm. The dried blood is sticking to your shirt and will start to bleed again when you take it off.” She carefully began to poke around it. “It ought to be cleansed before infection sets in. Is that not what you said about my injuries?”
He glanced around and saw that they were alone for the moment. “Very well, let’s sit over there.” He pointed to a wooden bench under a willow tree and motioned for her to sit. He sank down at the other end and carefully removed his shirt. The blood had indeed caked and the fabric was now stuck to his flesh. The wound began to bleed the moment he threw off his shirt.
Sweet mercy. He felt the heat of Georgiana’s gaze on him. She was dangerously arousing the dragon within him. Were he not bleeding, he’d be drawing her onto his lap right now and kissing her with dragon greed.
He’d be doing a lot more than merely kissing her. The overhanging branches of the willow would afford them privacy even if others came in search of him.
He wanted her.
His body cried out for her.
She was meant to be his dragon mate.
The urge to couple with Georgiana gnawed at his insides, but he was determined to resist temptation. He gave his back to her and spoke sternly. “I’ll treat my wound now, but you’re not to touch me or sit close to me. There are soul trappers in every demon’s blood. They’re harmless to us, but might leech onto you and bury themselves deep under your skin. They’re deadly to you. Few mortals who are infected ever survive.”
He heard her slide back to the very edge of the bench, her gasp betraying her alarm as he spoke his warning. “What can I do if one gets inside of me? Is there a cure?”
He nodded and turned to face her. “Aye, there is for you. But you will not like it.”
“How bad is it? Very painful?” She shook her head as though dismissing the concern. “Worse than death itself?”
Not to him, for he could think of nothing better than to complete their joining. “Perhaps, if you’re unwilling.”
He glanced back at her and saw that she was shaking her head vehemently. “Why would I be unwilling? Am I to simply allow myself to die? I don’t think so. What is the cure?”
“For you, the cure would be to mate with me.” His loins responded at the mere thought of Georgiana pink and naked beneath him.
She shook her head once more in dismissal. “No, really. What is the cure?”
“No jest.” His skin began to turn to scales, but he fought to regain control of his own traitorous body. “You and I would have to mate. I would have to spill my seed inside you in order to save you. It would not be gentle. Once aroused, I might become frenzied and unwittingly hurt you.”
“Mating?” She regarded him as though he were mad. “So, if I were infected by a soul trapper, I would need to… um, do that with you, and I would be saved?”
He nodded.
“And you’re not jesting?” Her voice was laced with doubt, not that he blamed her wariness. Not even he had believed such a cure possible, but it wa
s the wise faerie, Ygraine, who had gone out of her way to tell him of this method of healing shortly before her death at the hands of Brihann.
Ygraine had powers beyond anyone’s comprehension. Bloodaxe knew this healing wisdom had to be true. Even the Fae king had saved his queen in this way. Cadeyrn’s love for Melody was boundless, as foretold in the prophecy etched in the Stone of Draloch.
Bloodaxe didn’t know whether his heart was too damaged to save Georgiana, but whatever was left of that beating organ drew him to her with an overwhelming force. Was he capable of love, much less a boundless love? He had yet to join with Georgiana, but already his need for the girl was embedded within every beat of his heart and his every breath. “No. Unfortunately, there is no other way. As I said, I would try my best not to hurt you.”
“Must it hurt? Is it different from the way people in my mortal realm mate?”
“No, it is the same.”
“Then why do you think I would find it painful or objectionable?” She opened her mouth to say more, then changed her mind and snapped it shut. After a moment, she nodded and proceeded. “What if I were to become frenzied, too? Is this possible? Would I hurt you if I did?”
“By the Stone of Draloch,” he said, laughing and groaning all at once. “Yes, it’s possible you would feel this same frenzy. Sweet mercy, it’s possible. And no, you would not hurt me.”
He was still laughing and groaning as he quickly worked his magical incantation to stop the bleeding and heal his wound. The girl had never experienced the sexual ardor of which they spoke.
He wanted to be the one to show her.
He wanted to be the only one ever to touch her in that way.
Her betrothed, be damned.
But to claim her and bind her to him in this way was impossible. Were she anyone else, he wouldn’t care, for the act would be a physical release and nothing more. The meaningless act was one he’d performed often enough with his nymphs.
But this was Georgiana.
If they mated, he could never let her go. It would be the same as taking a knife to his own heart and ripping it from his chest.
If they mated, they would be bound to each other for eternity.
If she did leave, the sorrow would kill him.
*
Georgiana held her breath and gaped as Lord Bloodaxe twisted his lean torso this way and that, flexing his broad, muscled back and shoulders while he quietly worked on his wound until it had completely healed. She shook her head in wonder. “How did you accomplish this?”
“Dragon Lords have magical powers, as do the Fae. It is something all higher demons have acquired. But there are limits even to these powers. I can heal my own small injuries. Had the damage been greater, I would have needed a Fae healer to attend to me. I have no healing power over others. That is why I could not repair your injuries, much as I wanted to.”
“Please tell me more.” She was still seated at the far end of the bench watching him as he muttered a quick incantation to repair his shirt before he donned it. His body was now properly covered. She considered that a terrible shame. Such a body was a treat for the eyes. “Can someone like me acquire such powers?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders. “If the Stone of Draloch wishes it. Many believe that the Fae queen, Melody, is more powerful than all of us. Yet, she knew nothing of her powers before meeting King Cadeyrn. Even Anabelle–”
“Who is Anabelle?”
He refused to answer, now frowning as though irritated by the question. More likely, he was irritated with himself for allowing the woman’s name to slip from his lips. “Is Anabelle the one you wish to claim as your dragon mate?”
Georgiana swallowed hard, determined to suppress the ache now gripping her like an iron clamp.
Did he love this woman? No doubt, she was beautiful and noble.
He regarded her with some surprise. “Anabelle?” He laughed and shook his head. “No, Georgiana. You have no competition for my affections.”
She blushed.
He tipped a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “But once you’ve escaped this Underworld, if you ever find yourself in trouble, seek out Anabelle.”
“Who is she?”
“At the moment, the only person in your mortal realm who trusts me.” His dogs suddenly scrambled upright and began to bark at the sky. Lord Bloodaxe glanced up and muttered an oath. “Brihann is circling overhead. He thinks I can’t see him.”
She followed his gaze. “Where? I don’t see anything.”
“You wouldn’t. It takes the sharp eyes of a dragon to know he is soaring high above the clouds and plotting his next attack.” He took her hands in his and nudged her to her feet. “Time to get you safely back inside.”
She didn’t resist, but one dragon had already destroyed his tower chamber. The mighty Brihann might bring the entire fortress down upon them. “Isn’t there a safer place to go? He’ll turn your home to rubble and who knows how many of your subjects will be killed in the attack?”
“I’m not staying, merely delivering you to safety.” He turned to his dogs. “Charon. Styx. Protect Georgiana.”
“Then where will you go? What are you going to do?”
“Kill him before he kills you,” he said with a cold determination that chilled her bones.
His steward happened to be in the great hall when they hurried inside. “Thomas, is the south chamber in readiness?”
Thomas nodded. “It is, my lord. I was just about to go in search of you to report the news.”
“Good. Take Lady Georgiana and my dogs there.” He turned to Georgiana and took her hands in his. He frowned. “Your hands are cold.”
She nodded. “I’m not all powerful. Your world frightens me. In truth, you frightened me just now.” She’d seen the demon in him for a moment. It was foolish of her to be surprised, for that’s what he was. He’d warned her repeatedly, but she hadn’t seen the evil in him until he’d spoken of killing Brihann.
This new knowledge only filled her mind with more questions. Why hadn’t she seen this dark part of him before? Why was she seeing it now? These demons spoke of the Stone of Draloch as though it were a divine, spiritual force. Was it manipulating her? If so, she had to find out the reason. “Be careful, my lord.”
He nodded. “I always am, Georgiana.”
She was not quite certain about that. Although he was obviously intelligent and a brave fighter, there was an element of recklessness in him that worried her. Perhaps this recklessness went hand-in-hand with bravery, for it took a certain fortitude to plunge into battle knowing the odds were against you.
If this is what it took to hold his own against Lord Brihann, she was not about to undermine his confidence or distract him.
“This way, my lady,” Thomas said, escorting her and the dogs up the stone steps to the south chamber. Although not as high up as Lord Bloodaxe’s tower bedchamber, it was an elegantly appointed room with a very good view. “I hope you will find these quarters to your liking. I’ll have supper brought up when his lordship returns. You needn’t worry that harm will befall him. He will return to you, my lady.”
“Thank you, Thomas.” In truth, that his steward had faith in his abilities lightened her spirit. He’d also spoken kindly to her, with a gentle concern not expected in a demon. This world had many layers to it and she hoped to learn more before she made her escape. It felt important to do so, but she didn’t know why.
He gave a quick bow. “You have only to tug on the bell pull if you wish to summon me. Please stay away from the windows, my lady. We all know it is you Lord Brihann wants. It is you he fears.”
Once alone, Georgiana began to pace across the beautifully patterned Persian carpet that covered much of the stone floor. The dogs quietly paced behind her. “Are you worried about him, too?”
Styx nodded.
Charon barked and then nodded.
“I wish there was something we could do,” she muttered. “I don’t like feeling helpless
. My father often took me out with him to inspect his fields and visit the local tenant farmers. If the weather was decent, we’d ride into Penrith together and attend to business with the local merchants. I am an only child, you see. My father never had a son, so I think he resigned himself to teaching me whatever he would have taught his son.”
The dogs listened attentively.
She wondered if they truly had the ability to understand her. She hoped so, but it didn’t really matter. She needed to confide in a willing listener. Charon and Styx were more than suitable confidants. “I enjoyed being kept busy. I learned the proper duties of a lady, too. My mother insisted upon it.” She grinned. “And then there was the training I endured, as all debutantes must, in order to make a proper entrance into Society.”
She rolled her eyes, recalling those dull lessons.
Charon and Styx rolled their eyes as well.
She burst out laughing. “Yes, they were deadly dull.” She stopped pacing and was about to kneel to pet her companions who had stopped following her and were seated like bookends in the center of the room. As she was about to bend on one knee, each grabbed a sleeve and tugged hard so that she lost her balance and fell atop them. “What did you do that for?”
She’d hardly gotten the words out before one of the windows shattered and an arrow flew across the room directly over her head. It lodged with a thwack upon the mahogany headboard of the enormous bed. “Mother in heaven,” she whispered breathlessly. Had she not been forced down at just that moment the arrow would have struck her between the eyes.
Charon and Styx, having released her, were now barking furiously. In the blink of an eye, they’d transformed from companionable dogs to growling, salivating beasts. They bared their sharp teeth and sprang through the window, shattering the remaining shards of glass jutting from the panes. “No! Stop!”
But her shouts were to no avail. Had they just jumped to their deaths? This chamber was on the uppermost floor of the fortress, only Bloodaxe’s ruined tower and the parapets above this south chamber were higher.
