by Meara Platt
More important, two brothers torn apart by lies and intrigue were now reunited. His soulless, demon heart soared even as his dragon wings gave out and could no longer support his flight. He held them out long enough to glide to the ground and then he shifted back into himself. That his soldiers saw him naked did not trouble him, for they’d seen him shift before. But he’d never been injured as he was now. He did not like that they saw how badly he’d been hurt.
Saron alit beside him but retained his dragon form. Do you need help?
No, nothing that a Fae healer cannot cure.
Good, then meet me at the Fae king’s court in a week’s time. The Prince Regent will want my report and there are a few loose ends to take care of, a few loose demons to toss back into the Underworld. He lifted off the ground and started toward the Fae portal. Remember, one week. I will bring Georgiana’s father, for they’ll have much to discuss. I’ll also properly introduce you to my Anabelle.
As Saron disappeared into the portal, Thomas, his ever-efficient steward, appeared out of nowhere with clothes. With his capable help, Bloodaxe donned his trousers and boots. He was about to put on his shirt when Georgiana reached his side. “Do not put it on.”
He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Very well. I know how you enjoy seeing me shirtless.”
She tried to appear stern, but he could see the joy and relief in her eyes. “I only mean to inspect your injuries.”
He opened his arms to her. “So you say. But I know how you like to see me undressed.”
She rushed into his embrace with a sob. “I thought he was going to kill you.”
“What’s this? No tears, my beauty. Today has been a good day.”
“I missed you so much.” She wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry I almost shot you.”
He began to laugh in earnest. Blast, that hurt. But it also felt so good to have her in his arms once more. “You did well, Georgie. I could not ask for a better dragon mate.”
“Right, you–” She gasped. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“I’d fall on bended knee, but I fear I won’t ever get up again if I do. Yes, I’m asking you to marry me.”
She cast him a smile as bright as sunshine. “Why, my lord? Why do you wish to marry me?”
“Must I say it? Can you not see how my heart beats only for you?” He bent his head and kissed her with a desperation that could leave no doubt about his feelings for her. “But I will say it because you’ve won the day and changed the course of destiny. You’ve united the house of Draloch and changed the balance of power. Brihann is now hiding in his lair, every dragon scale on his thick hide quaking.” He kissed her again, feeling at peace as he’d never felt before in all his days. “I love you, my beauty. I’ve loved you from the moment our lips first touched.”
She gave a merry trill of laughter. “I was but a toothless and drooling babe in my cradle.”
“But you looked at me with your soft, green eyes and I knew in that moment that ours would be a love match.”
She leaned her head against his chest and gave him a careful hug. “One for the ages, my lord.”
He nodded. “Throughout the years, through all my changes, I never stopped loving you.”
She was pensive a moment. “Nor did I ever stop loving you. My heart was searching for yours all this time. I’m glad you never forgot me.”
His arm was broken and he suspected several of his ribs were cracked as well. He wasn’t certain what other injuries he’d sustained. Georgiana must have felt him suddenly begin to weaken. “Sit a moment. Let me fetch King Cadeyrn to heal your wounds.”
“No, my beauty. I don’t need him when I have you beside me.”
She looked up at him, her brow furrowed. “I have no magical powers.”
He took her hands and placed them palms down on his injuries. “Give it a try.”
He closed his eyes and inhaled her wildflower scent. Her hands felt so good against his skin, better than any mage’s potion. Better than any Fae magic.
“My fingers are tingling,” she said in wonder. He opened his eyes and gazed at her. “Ooh, my entire body is now tingling. Do you feel anything, my lord?”
He nodded and smiled at her. “Aye, but it has nothing to do with mending broken bones. It was worth a try, my beauty. You had better summon King Cadeyrn.”
She sighed. “I’ve failed.”
“You healed my heart. You saved my damaged soul. I’d say you’ve done a fine day’s work.” After his bones had properly knitted under the power of the Fae healing spell, he took Georgiana back into the circle of his arms. “Do not fret, the skill to mend bones will come to you in time.” He arched an eyebrow. “So, I made you tingle?”
“Yes, my lord.” He loved the light blush on her cheeks. “You know how I enjoy your body.”
“As much as I enjoy yours, I hope.”
She laughed once more. “I don’t know. Perhaps. The matter needs more thorough exploration.”
“Indeed, my beauty.” He took Georgiana back to his tower chamber, prepared to do just that.
Chapter Fifteen
He’d allowed her to call him Arik again.
Georgiana stood before him in his tower bedchamber, her clothes cast aside. Now it was his turn, and she watched in fascination as his muscles rippled and flexed while he casually stripped out of his garments, his seductively graceful movements like that of a beast on the prowl. Even the dragon etched on his back appeared bigger and more powerful, seeming to spread its black wings and soar with his every twist and turn.
He was still a beast, one of the black dragons of prophecy and that would never change. But he was more now. “Georgie, do you realize what’s happened?”
“Other than my rescuing you?” she asked with a grin. “Or the fact that you’re about to shamelessly seduce me?”
“Yes, other than that.” He chuckled. “I’m the dominant male now. I will assume the throne as High King of the Dragon Lords. Brihann is defeated. His madness is such that not even Necros or Python dared follow him into his castle lair. They retreated to their own realms and summoned their demon soldiers home.”
“I’m so glad.” She called his name softly again, Arik, as a gentle rain began to fall outside, its droplets striking the window panes in a rhythmic plunk, plunk. But she was warm and cozy in their bedchamber, her gaze fixed on this man she loved with all her heart as he approached, his body eager for their joining.
He did not seem quite comfortable with the sound of his boyhood name on her lips. He’d been Bloodaxe for too long. But it was important for her to call him Arik, for this is how she’d first known him, and this is how she always saw him. Not as a beast. Never as a beast. Always as the man who’d captured her heart.
“Come, my beauty.”
He swept her up in his arms and placed her in the center of the bed. He stretched his body over hers, propping himself on his elbows to ease his weight off her, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer, for she loved the press of his powerful body against her own slender one.
They spoke no more. Heavens, Georgiana did not think she had the wits to put a sentence together. His hot skin inflamed her senses. She inhaled the honey scent and maleness of him. Her heart took flight as he lowered his mouth to hers and stole her breath in a devouring kiss. This would be their first mating.
She wanted him.
“Don’t hold back, my love,” she said and returned his kiss with equal ardor. His mouth was warm as velvet. She ran her hands along his back, feeling the corded muscles of his body that was hard as iron. He held her and kissed her, and her joy knew no bounds when he finally entered her.
He had now claimed her as his own.
But in claiming her, he’d been claimed as well. “Georgie, it shall always be you. Only you. It has always been you.” He began to move inside of her, carefully at first, but as her body adjusted to his and turned to fire, his thrusts came faster and he embedded himself deeply.
She
moved with his body, closing around him as he rocked in and out.
A fiery pressure built within her and so did her abandon. She clutched his shoulders and cried out his name.
He suckled her breasts, his tongue licking and swirling across their taut peaks. She cried out again, this time clutching his head and holding it tight to her heaving chest as he continued his merciless onslaught to drive her to ecstasy.
Her body was an inferno of hot dragon flames that spread like wildfire throughout her limbs and centered its heat at her core.
She cried out once more, aching for relief from the volcanic pressure building within her. He’d touched her and pleasured her in the hunting cottage, but this was different. More intense. More spectacular because he was on fire, too.
He arched his back and continued to thrust into her, his eyes closed and the golden sheen of his body now glistening with heat. “I love you, Georgie.”
“I love you, too.”
A wave of pleasure swept over her, lifting her in its molten crest and carrying her along with explosive force toward a distant shore. While fire still raged within her, his own molten explosion came. His body grew taut and his muscles strained. He spilled his dragon seed inside of her in pulsing waves.
“My beauty,” he whispered, shifting their positions so that he now lay on his back and she was now atop him, resting her flushed cheek against his solid chest. Their legs were entwined and their hearts were beating fast.
Her heartbeat was still rampant while his began to calm. He turned pensive, absently caressing her hair, but she knew his thoughts were focused and not merely drifting. “What is the matter, my love?”
“Nothing, just thinking about today. Did I dream my brother’s presence? Will he meet me next week beside the Stone of Draloch? King Cadeyrn has offered to hold our wedding ceremony then. I’m sorry, Georgie. I could not hold back and wait to be properly wed before I claimed you as my mate.”
“Nor could I.” She smiled and kissed his chest. “But you have a point. Perhaps we ought to refrain from further… that… and wait until our wed–”
“No. You are too precious to me, my beauty.” He gave a laughing groan, but quickly turned pensive once more. “I was thinking back to the day my father brought me to Wethersby Hall to seal our betrothal. Even then, your hair was as golden as sunlight and your big, round eyes were a soft, moss green. I thought of you in those dark days after Saron was taken to the Underworld and I followed him. I don’t know what sustained him, kept him defiant through the years of his captivity. But I thought of you throughout mine. I will get back. I must get back. I am betrothed to that girl with sunshine hair and moss-green eyes. She is waiting for me. That’s what I told myself with the break of each new day.”
“Arik.” Her voice was a ragged whisper.
“Then I sold my soul. I lost the ability to survive in sunlight. I lost the ability to shed a tear. But I never lost my ability to love you. Protect Georgiana. I knew we were no longer betrothed and you would eventually belong to another, but it didn’t matter to me. Protect Georgiana. That’s what I told myself from every day forward after that. She is my beloved dragon mate. She is my destiny.”
THE END
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Danger lurks in the Garden of Shadows for Julia Marsden, the daughter of the late vicar of St. Lodore’s in the quiet village of Borrowdale. Julia doesn’t believe in faeries or magic or dreams coming true, but odd things have been happening at the vicarage lately that cannot be explained. As Julia begins to fall under the spell of the powerful faerie king Cadeyrn, she realizes that only her love for Douglas Hawke, the Earl of Eastbourne, a man she considers an enemy, can save her. Is Douglas capable of loving Julia, even at the cost of his own life?
Chapter One
Lake District
Borrowdale, England
October 1816
Douglas Hawke, sixth Earl of Eastbourne, reined his mount at the crest of a gently rolling hill and peered into the distance to survey the quiet village of Borrowdale. The tiny enclave of golden thatched roofs and white stone walls blended serenely with the dark fells and high crags soaring above it, creating the illusion of a place lost in time, hidden from the outside world for the past six hundred years. “At last,” he said softly, turning to his companion. “We’ll steal the boy tonight.”
“Tonight?” Homer Barrow, the Bow Street runner he’d retained to search for his lost nephew, cast him an uncertain glance. “Ain’t that a bit quick, m’lord?”
“Miss Marsden had to know this day would come. As did you when you accepted the assignment, Mr. Barrow. Having second thoughts?”
Homer, reputed to be one of the finest runners in London, wiggled his bulbous red nose and grumbled. “No, but I gained her trust. We became friendly, she and I.”
That Homer had developed a soft spot for the Marsden girl was of some concern to Douglas, but the old man wasn’t needed to complete the hardest and most unpleasant part of the task, which Douglas knew could only fall to himself. “You’ve done your job and shall receive a hefty fee. You’ve earned it and I have no intention of cheating you out of it.”
“Fat fee or no, I won’t let ye harm the girl.” Homer jerked the reins of his horse as he clenched a beefy fist. “I could never look Mrs. Barrow in the eye if I came home with blood on m’hands. So I’m warning you, m’lord. That knife of yours had better remain in yer fancy black boot, or—”
“What? I might find it stuck between my ribs?”
“Never, m’lord,” Homer said with a contrite shake of his head that caused his jowls to wobble. “I expect you’re a reasonable man, but these delicate situations have a way of gettin’ out of hand right quick. I wouldn’t like to see anyone hurt.”
“Nor would I,” Douglas said, arching an eyebrow. Though Homer showed all the physical signs of age, for his hair was gray, his girth expansive, step slow and lumbering, Douglas knew Homer had lost none of his sharp deductive abilities. He was the perfect man to find the elusive Julia Marsden … and of course, the boy. For that reason, he indulged the mild outburst.
Over the course of their weeks together, he had grown accustomed to the Bow Street runner’s lack of diplomacy, in truth preferring his bluntness to the feigned admiration so often encountered by one in his position. “My nephew shall be rescued unharmed. As for the Marsden girl, what happens to her shall depend entirely on her actions. Now,” Douglas said, signaling the end of their dispute, “tell me more about her.”
Homer hesitated a moment before responding. “As I said in my report, she lives just outside of town, in the shadow of the mountain. Her father was vicar here until his death several years ago.”
“And you’re certain she still resides at the vicarage?”
“Aye, m’lord.”
Douglas shook his head. “A cozy arrangement with the new vicar, no doubt.”
“She lives there alone with the boy,” Homer replied with a frown. “The vicarage is little more than a cottage standing beside the more imposing St. Lodore’s Church. We’ll reach it by following the river out of town, then up a steep, wooded path. The route is quite treacherous when wet, particularly at this time of year when the leaves change color and begin to fall. ’Tis easy to slip and break one’s neck.”
Douglas sighed. “Mr. Barrow, you’re lecturing me again. Now, you’ve said in your report that she comes to market every Wednesday.”
“Aye, m’lord. She arrives around midday, punctual and precise. Rain or shine.”
Douglas gazed into the distance, noting the menacing red storm clouds that towered above the imposing crags. An odd, disquieting color. Those clouds would soon sweep into the valley on the quickening October wind. He drew his cloak about his shoulders as the sun, gleaming only moments ago, suddenly disappeared behind one of those gathering clouds. �
��Looks like rain today. Never seen such an ominous sky.”
“Aye, strange things go on in these parts,” Homer muttered, and then appeared to shrug it off. “We’ll have a downpour within the hour, for sure. But never you mind about ruining ’em fancy boots and fine clothes. If the skies open up, I’ll go to Julia and the boy on your behalf while you stay dry at the Ashness Inn. ’Tis an old place, been around since the days of Druids and pagan magic, but sturdy enough and the rooms are comfortable. I’ve secured the best they have, but in my name so as not to warn anyone of your arrival.”
“Julia, is it? You’ve become quite good friends… a fact you neglected to mention in your report.”
Homer’s face reddened. “You paid me to find ’er for you, m’lord, and I did. But she’s a decent sort, no matter what rot you hear from them’s that have never met ’er, and that’s just what I’ll say if I’m called to testify. No, Homer Barrow’s opinion cannot be swayed by coin and—”
“Enough, Mr. Barrow,” Douglas said with a light groan, surprised that the old man could be so easily swayed by a shy smile and a pretty face.
Eager to be on his way, Douglas spurred his mount down the hill and across a small meadow that ended at the bank of a gently rushing river that appeared little more than a small stream. He paused beside the river to wait for his slower companion, biding his time by watching icy swirls form over rocks lodged in the water’s path.
The swirls glistened like blue crystals, beautiful but cold … indeed, they almost seemed to be staring back at him like ice-blue eyes.
He dismissed the notion. Were his heart not so cold, were the betrayals by his loved ones not so deep, Douglas might have appreciated the beauty of his surroundings. But he had been betrayed, the boy hidden from him all these years, and someone had to pay.
He’d start with Julia Marsden.
END
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