The Princess's Dragon

by JManess

  Now that she lay next to Tolmac, her body felt that way again without any provocation from him. Yet he’d never given her any indication that he wanted 120

  ✥ Susan Trombley ✥

  her beyond the physical male–female dragon dynamic they’d both experienced from the start. Sondra loved him with her mind but she felt something else as well—she craved him. She felt possessive of him, of his presence and his time. She wanted to claim him as her own, body and spirit. She wanted him to belong to her and her alone and she wanted to keep him with her forever. She’d never felt that way about anyone, not even Derek, whom she once believed herself madly in love with.

  Sondra’s thoughts melted into dreams. She wanted to scream in frustrated pleasure, knowing without understanding that something even better waited just beyond her reach. She writhed against him, her scales rasping across his body, igniting wherever they touched. His dark, seductive chuckle rippled through her mind, jolting her with desire, even as he pleased her without ever truly satisfying her. She struggled against the hold of sleep, eager to turn her dreams into reality but she could not escape the shivering pleasure. Suddenly the dream faded just as quickly as it had come upon her, leaving her cold and frustrated with unfulfilled passion. She slipped into a deep slumber and slept through the remainder of the night.

  Tolmac fought his own yearning in his dreams, so close to taking advantage of the trusting young dragon beside him that he nearly pushed both of them over the edge. Ever mindful of his greater experience and the responsibility he took upon himself to protect the naïve storm dragon, Tolmac could not give in to his own wishes now. When and if he ever mated with Sondra, it would be at her request. He knew he could influence her with little effort and she would beg him to take her, but he didn’t want her like that. For the first time, Tolmac cared if the female he wanted to mate with really desired him in return—and not just a clutch of eggs.

  The next morning, Tolmac announced that they would return to the lair. He had enjoyed their outing nearly as much as she did, amused at seeing everything through the eyes of her inexperience rather than his own jaded point of view. Still, he didn’t like lingering so close to the frozen sea and the island of ice beyond in case the frost dragon still held that territory. Sondra possessed an uncanny knack for finding danger, and the thought of her falling prey to the one creature that had nearly ended his own life sent a chill through him much sharper than the frost’s breath.

  Sondra, unaware of his concerns and still nursing unsatisfied desire from

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  the previous night’s erotic dream, leapt into flight without comment, and they winged their way back to Thunder Mountain.

  Less than a cycle away from the lair, Sondra reached a decision. The time had come for her to tell Tolmac how she felt. She couldn’t hold out any longer, as every night brought her more devastatingly real dreams of passion that never reached fruition. She didn’t know if he would willingly welcome her in his life forever, but now she needed him so badly that she would gladly risk him casting her aside once they mated. She wouldn’t make it easy for him though, since she fully intended to stay with him, regardless of his plans. The thought of leaving him and returning to the human world to live out her mortal life without him caused her stomach to seize and lurch sickly. Now that she understood that magic existed and the myths and fairytales held true, she no longer had her work studying logic as an outlet for her time. She knew she would find life as a princess unbearably boring after all that she’d seen and done, and she would never sleep peacefully another night in the castle when her heart and her body still craved the dragon in the mountain. When they arrived at Thunder Mountain and alighted on the ledge outside his lair, she worked up the courage to confront him with her desire.

  “I don’t want to leave you.” She blurted abruptly, afraid that if she hesitated, she would never say it all. He turned from his study of the distant valley below to glance at her.

  “Leave? Why would you even think of leaving at this point? I still have much to teach you, little one, especially since you always manage to embroil yourself in peril when left to your own devices. I cannot have that on my conscience!” Tolmac teased before turning away again, his attention returning to Ariva Valley and something he sensed there.

  Sondra failed to respond to his teasing, instead she tried to make him understand, fighting past the nervous churning in her stomach and the nearly painful lust clenching her gut.

  “I mean I want to stay with you. I don’t want to leave you ever.” She waited, her heart pounding, fearing she would die if he rejected her or did something stupid like pat her head like a child. If he did that she would rip his wings off!

  Instead, his head swung toward her and his eyes blazed with a fiery light, brighter than she had ever seen. Flames burst out on his body, a tracery of fire moving beneath his obsidia scales. Suddenly she had his full attention.

  “What did you say?” he demanded, his mental voice harsh and strangled.

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  He closed in on her. She shivered, but not from fear. The heat pouring off of him was not anger, and even in her inexperience she recognized his pure masculine desire. It sparked an answering need in her own body, literally causing sparks to zip off her wingtips and shoot along her scales.

  “I said,” she tilted her head back, her lids lowering over her golden eyes, exposing her long slender neck to him, “I don’t want to leave you ever. I want to stay with you. I want you…”

  This last whispered thought barely registered before he grabbed her throat with his powerful jaws and pinned her against the rock face of the mountain, his forked tongue caressing the stretch of neck he gripped firmly but gently in his mouth. His facile tongue teased the tender flesh of her throat ring and Sondra felt the heat of flames brush her scales as his breathing grew labored. She spread her wings, angling her back to him, her body instinctively responding to his own in a nearly undeniable urge to mate.

  Sondra’s body shivered and sparked, and her wings quivered as he moved behind her. He opened a mental link between them, nearly swamping her as she experienced his excitement pouring through the link, followed by a vast web of emotions, images, and memories that threatened to ensnare her before he pulled himself back under control. One emotion stood out and surged between them. She felt something deeper than love rushing through the link; something primal, hot, and hungry that dwarfed the gentle, more peaceful emotion so glorified by humans. Tolmac wanted her—wanted to possess her—

  a possession not just of the body but also of the spirit.

  Sondra roared in ecstasy, certain now that he wanted her as she wanted him, not just now but for all eternity. Tolmac threw part of himself through their linked minds; for the first time in his very long life willing to be possessed, unafraid of the consequences of belonging to someone else; the same sort of vulnerability he spent his entire life avoiding.

  Sondra responded by casting her own spirit to him in return, and he held her, caressing her as no one else could, her spirit fluttering within his own vast and shadowy mind like a brilliantly colored butterfly. Consumed by their mating, Tolmac didn’t spare time to study the memories, emotions, and thoughts coming through her end of their link. Perhaps it would not have mattered if he did at that moment, because she belonged to him body and soul, and he didn’t hesitate to enslave himself to her, shouting his true name through their link, the power of it unspoken since his mother whispered it into his

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  spirit at the moment of his hatching. Other dragons squandered their freedom, losing their true name to wizards and witches and serving them forever because of it. Tolmac had never acted so incautiously before, but he gave it to Sondra without hesitation and asked nothing in return. He forever belonged to her.

  The mating was not gentle, physically or emotionally. The two dragons surged
into flight together, winged high into the air and then spiraled down, tearing away from each other at the last moment before coming together again.

  Their link never wavered, and through it they shared the rapture each felt during their fierce mating. Scales were torn away by grasping teeth and claws, wings were scraped during several near misses with the ground, and muscles were tested by the struggle between two dragons trying to outdo each other in providing pleasure.

  Hours passed before both dragons collapsed on the ledge and dragged themselves into the lair to curl up, their bodies and spirits twined languorously around each other. Tolmac had mated many times in his life, but never had he mated like this, never had he given up a portion of himself to another. Dragons did possess the capacity to care for one another, but few ever found a mate they desired enough to risk themselves. Tolmac counted his age in eons and never before had he found another he would gladly follow into death. Now Tolmac understood that death would be far preferable to a life without his mate.

  Sondra dreamed terrible nightmares that nearly shook her awake. In her dreams she witnessed men dying, screaming in agony as spears pierced their bodies or swords impaled their skulls. Other men battled for their lives against impossible odds. The men wore the armor of Ariva, and one man stood out among them as he hacked and slashed away at the strangely armored enemies.

  His sword and shield an extension of his body, he twisted, swung, and kicked through the enemy, mowing them down with fierce abandon. He used his spiked shield nearly as often as his sword to batter his enemies, leaving bleeding gouges on their faces and great dents in their helmets as he slammed them away from him before he swung his other arm across and slashed through them with his sword.

  He bore the standard of Ariva, holding a high rank in their army judging by his feathered helm, but Sondra nearly didn’t recognize his face because of the bloody grimace he wore. In shock, she realized that she dreamed of none other than Lord Derek, a man she once believed herself in love with. At first, she wondered if the gods punished her by showing her this nightmare of him 124

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  in danger because she so callously forsook him and all those she once treasured, but then she realized that the dream felt too real and that the battle took place at Ulrick Pass, a place she knew about but never traveled to in her sheltered life. Alarm shot through her as she watched men die around Derek and the few other veterans who managed to hold the line. She jerked awake and her distress passed through her link to Tolmac, who woke immediately, alert for threats.

  “I dreamt that a war raged in the valley between my—the humans. It seemed so real,” she said, shivering.

  “This is good; you are learning to spread your awareness while you sleep.

  You have spread it very far; the pass you speak of and the battle that goes on there is quite a distance away.” Tolmac seemed pleased, unaware that her distress wasn’t because of her strange experience but of the actual vision.

  “There is a real battle going on in that pass?” Sondra demanded.

  Tolmac yawned. “Yes, I sensed it yesterday when we returned, before …” He looked at her, heat lighting up his red gaze.

  Sondra jumped to her feet, shaking loose the parts of him that still coiled around her. “What about the humans? They’re dying! We have to help them!”

  “What? Why would we do that? They are only humans; they do this sort of thing all the time and they will eventually sort it out. They are not stupid enough to bring their petty wars to us.” Tolmac grew astonished at Sondra’s distress and she realized that he couldn’t possibly understand why she needed to act on behalf of the humans. After their intense intimacy it was now too late for confessions. He would hate her forever for tricking him. And worse, her people died in agony while she actually possessed the strength and ability to aid them. He would never accept her leaving him without an explanation.

  She looked at him, feeling his concern and confusion through their link, and she carefully guarded her own agitated emotions. She resolved that she would find a way to help her people and still not reveal the truth to him. She would just sneak out, blast the enemy army, and then return with some equinos and tell him that she wanted to surprise him. It had to work. Just like her time within the Dragon City, circumstances forced Sondra to make a choice and take a horrible risk just to do the right thing. And just as before, the choice wasn’t really a choice at all. She could never live with herself, even safely at Tolmac’s side, if she sat back and did nothing to save her people.

  “Of course, you’re right. I have never seen humans up close and it startled

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  me to discover myself in the midst of their battle. For a moment I almost felt human.” Sondra nearly stuttered mentally from the lie. Tolmac relaxed, though his gaze still remained wary.

  “Stay away from humans; trust me, you will be much happier if you do.

  They are annoyances who spend their entire short life span dreaming up ways to kill each other,” Tolmac grumped.

  Sondra grasped at a flicker of memory that passed through their link of a young man with black eyes and long, wild hair and an even younger girl, beautiful and pale in a gentle delicate sort of way, but she lost it before Tolmac turned away and curled up again. She joined him, curled up next to him, but careful not to touch him. He fell asleep within moments and she carefully uncoiled and moved to the entrance, cringing at every sound, shrinking their link to a mere wisp of thought along which she sent all her love and happiness to him. Once through the tunnels and out on the ledge, she took flight, wending her way south to join the fray, hopefully to save her people, without losing her love.

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  CHAPTER 14

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  Just cycles after the dragon attack on the youngest princess of the Ariva royal family, the cycle of the funeral dawned clear and bright. Th

  e sun shined as though determined to remind the grieving people of Sondra’s bright smile. Everyone in the capital city of Ariva bore witness to the funeral procession, many wiping tears from their eyes while many more searched the sky, wondering whether the dragon would swoop down and snatch up another victim. If any person felt that the young princess had brought her death upon herself because of her beliefs, they weren’t foolish enough to speculate aloud.

  The previous night, the priests of Morbidon had prepared the remains and erected a funeral pyre at Morbidon’s shrine beside the west-facing wall. Just as the sun died every night after its journey through the sky, so did Morbidon’s children return to him after their passage through life.

  Sondra’s funeral procession began at Vivacel’s shrine in the eastern wall, the place where most women came to labor and birth their babies. Occasionally a prince or princess took their first breaths there as well when their mothers eschewed the castle shrine for the city shrine. The procession traveled across the city, simulating the passage of the deceased from Vivacel’s arms to Morbidon’s embrace as the sun itself followed the same path.

  Four bearers carried the royal deceased through the streets, although during this funeral they pulled the filmy curtains, concealing what little remained of the princess within. Before the princess lying in state, marched a contingent of the palace guard wearing full ceremonial armor, their breastplates gleaming.

  The king, queen, Sarai, and Sergen rode their horses behind the soldiers.

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  They wore the best clothing they owned to honor their sister; the morning sun glinted and sparked off jewels, gold thread, and silken brocade. Behind Sondra’s remains rode the ladies-in-waiting, their normally giggling stupidity subdued for the occasion. Following them walked the servants that had grown close to Sondra during her life: the nanny, a woman of middle years, plump proportions, and a kind heart, and Liliana, who wept openly, struggling to walk through her mour
ning. Many palace servants and a final contingent of guards brought up the rear of the procession.

  Behind them all, so far distant that he hardly appeared attached to the procession at all, rode a single man, his clothing dark and subdued, but not nearly as dour as the frozen despair and impotent rage twisting his expression.

  Lord Derek watched as the procession bore the pitiful remains of his love through the city, and he harbored an intense hatred in his heart, a growth of darkness that he nurtured, surrounded, and protected.

  When the procession arrived at the shrine, a Morbidion priest stood and recited his sermon as the bearers placed the remains on the funeral pyre.

  “In the beginning, there was the goddess Vivacel, bringer of life and challenge and the god Morbidon, bringer of peace and rest. The god and goddess created a child, which they called man. When the gods split the world into two, the overworld and the underworld, Vivacel and Morbidon fought over their children. They finally decided that man should spend one part of his existence with Vivacel and so we live out our lives here in the overworld. Then man should spend the other part of his existence with Morbidon and so we join Morbidon in death in the underworld. And so follows the never-ending cycle of man, with each child of the gods spending time first with the Mother, Vivacel, goddess of Life and then with the Father, Morbidon, god of Death, before their rebirth to live a new cycle, just as the sun is forever reborn from one cycle to the next.”

  The priest paused in his recitation of the birth of man, part of the origin story written in the Forbidden Scrolls, and the basis of all religious worship in Ariva and the majority of the civilized southern lands.