Dragon's Curse: a Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy Book 3)

by Jasmine Walt

  “I must confess,” Lyria finally said, “that one of the reasons I wanted to become the Dragon’s Gift so badly was because I wanted to be the center of court. I do get to arrange a few parties and events in Hallowdale, but they are such small affairs in comparison to what I could accomplish here at Dragon’s Keep.” She sighed, looking a little wistful.

  Dareena held back a scoff, choosing to try a little tact for once. “There is more to being the Dragon’s Gift than arranging parties. And in this case, you would have had to marry all three princes.”

  Lyria shuddered at that. “No, thank you. It is bad enough knowing I will have to submit to one man. I would sooner slit my own throat than have to be at the beck and call of three, no matter how beautiful they are.”

  Dareena frowned. “The princes are not as bad as all that. They have never forced me to do anything against my will, nor made me feel like a slave.”

  “That is because they genuinely love you,” Lyria said flatly. “I doubt I would have had quite the same relationship with them had the dragon god chosen me. Our personalities are…incompatible.”

  “I’m sure you will find someone who complements your personality.” Dareena imagined it would either have to be a very strong man, capable of putting up with Lyria’s high-handed ways and temper, or someone very meek, who did whatever she told him.

  Lyria smiled. “As a matter of fact, there is a dragon born guard who fancies me. The third son of a noble from Tarith. I’m not quite convinced he’s marriage material, but he is quite handsome. We’ve taken a few strolls in the gardens together.”

  “I wish I was allowed outside for more than a few seconds,” Dareena said wistfully. “I had to fight tooth and nail just to get the guards to agree to let me meet Alistair when he landed.”

  Lyria nodded, looking surprisingly sympathetic. “After spending time with you, I realize I do not envy your position. You may be the most elevated woman in the land, but I could never conduct myself with such grace, nor be nearly as patient.” She shook her head. “If I were you, I would have rung Rantissa’s neck already. That insufferable twit has got to get that giggling under control!”

  Dareena couldn’t help it—she laughed. “Thank the gods it was me who was chosen then, and not you.”

  Lyria smirked. “I have no doubt the gods did that by design.”

  The two of them adjourned to Dareena’s suite with a few of the books—she was tiring again, and wanted the comfort of her sitting area rather than those hard, wooden chairs. Curled up on the couch, she sent Lyria to arrange for some tea to be brought to them, and continued making notes on the ceremony records she was reading. Many of the customs seemed old-fashioned, but there were a few tidbits Dareena thought charming, which she wanted to incorporate into her own wedding.

  The door opened, and Dareena looked up to see Soldian walk in.

  “Reading again, my lady?” Soldian asked cheerfully as she approached. “Come, let me massage you for a bit. You look very stiff.”

  “Oh, no, I’m quite all right—” Dareena began, sitting up, but Soldian was already behind her. She groaned as her lady dug her fingers into her shoulders, somehow managing to locate the exact spots of tension. “All right,” she relented, leaning forward a bit so she could reach her back more easily. “Just for a minute, though. I have a lot of reading to do.”

  “Oh, this won’t take very long,” Soldian said. She leaned over and gripped Dareena’s forearm. Dareena gasped as she felt a cold metal bracelet slide over her skin, and it pinched as Soldian tightened it around her. The lady-in-waiting removed her hand, and Dareena only caught a flash of the runes inscribed on the silver before it disappeared.

  “What have you done?” she tried to ask. Only, her mouth wouldn’t move. Panic surged through her as she realized she was paralyzed—her chest rose and fell in its normal breathing pattern, but she could not so much as twitch her pinky finger or make a single sound.

  Soldian moved around the couch so she could look Dareena in the eye. “You have no idea how torturous it was for me to have to stand by you, day by day, and let you boss me around,” she said, a cruel smirk curving her lips. The innocence and cheerful demeanor she usually wore had vanished completely, leaving a cold-eyed, calculating woman in her place who was likely much older than Dareena had thought. “The tables have been turned nicely now, don’t you think? With that bracelet, you will not be able to move or speak, or even relieve yourself, without my say-so.”

  Anger surged through Dareena, but to her horror, she found that even her face didn’t heat up like it normally did when she was angry. Desperately, she struggled against the spell, using all her might to force herself to move.

  “There is no point in resisting,” Soldian said dispassionately. “You will only wear yourself out, which no one wants. As you may have already guessed by now, I am a warlock agent. Normally, I specialize in assassinations, but this assignment is a bit different.” She gave Dareena a crafty smile. “Killing you now would not bring the kingdom to its knees. I need you alive for that, to set your precious mates against each other. Once they are tearing at each other’s throats, I will kill you, and then watch from the shadows as your mates finally prove once and for all that dragons have always been the weakest race.”

  Dareena’s eyes burned with grief, but there were no tears to run down her face. She could not even cry to express her emotions. A storm of grief and fury raged inside her, and yet, she knew from the outside she likely looked calm, even serene.

  “Your thoughts will remain your own,” Soldian went on, “but your body belongs to me. Let’s do a little demonstration to make sure the spell works, shall we? Stand up.”

  Dareena immediately rose from the chair.

  “Hop on one foot.”

  Dareena hopped.

  “Cluck like a chicken.”

  Dammit, Dareena thought as she began to cluck. Humiliation burned inside her, and Soldian laughed, her eyes bright with mirth.

  “Oh, this is going to be splendid!” she crowed after she’d commanded Dareena to shut up and resume her seat on the couch. “I wish I could sense what you are feeling and thinking—that would make this so much better. I have an errand to run, so I’ll leave you here for a bit. Try not to get into too much trouble,” she said with a wink.

  Dareena fumed silently as Soldian shut the door behind her. As if she could possibly get into any trouble when she couldn’t so much as blink!

  At least she didn’t leave you hopping on one foot and clucking like a chicken, she thought morosely. Oh, what a sight that would have been! Lyria and Rantissa would have had a fit if they had walked in. Her heart surged into her throat as she remembered Lyria would be back soon—would the dragon born figure out what was wrong?

  Dareena tried drawing on power from the air to destroy the invisible bracelet on her wrist, but the runes repelled her efforts easily. Frustrated, she tried to think of some way, any way, to break the spell. But her magic was not designed for this sort of thing, and there were no warlocks. She imagined taking the bracelet off would do the trick, but as it was invisible, it was highly unlikely her mates or the other ladies would think to do it.

  If they even realized she was under a spell.

  How many other amulets and charms had they overlooked? Dareena had no idea that the warlocks could make them invisible, and it was obvious no one else in the Keep knew it either. How many other agents had they overlooked? Perhaps it was a new spell—otherwise she saw no reason why the agents they’d uncovered would not be using it either. Fear for herself and her baby hit her hard, but Dareena could do nothing, not even hug herself for comfort.

  Killing me might have been more merciful, she thought morosely as she stared into the empty fireplace. Her only hope was that the agent might make a mistake and give herself away. Otherwise, Dareena would be forced to stand by and watch as the warlocks finally did what they had not been able to accomplish before, and tear the royal family apart once and for all.

&nbs
p; 26

  The sun had nearly set beneath the horizon by the time Drystan finished his latest round of meetings. His head hurt from all the facts and figures spinning around, and he wanted to do nothing more than curl up with his mate in bed. He wished Lucyan would hurry up and return—he was tired of being the only brother who had to deal with these day-to-day affairs, especially since all three of them were to be king.

  When he opened the door to his suite, he found Dareena sitting on the couch in her usual spot, a book in her hands. Two of her ladies were with her, and they rose from their seats and bowed deeply.

  “Hello, darling,” Drystan said, sitting down on the couch next to her. He placed a hand on her thigh. “How was your day?”

  “Good,” Dareena said, not even looking up at him. Drystan frowned—she often got lost in a book, but she never failed to set it aside when he was there.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “Have I done something to upset you?”

  “No.” Dareena set the book on the table and looked up at him. “Why?”

  “It’s just…you don’t even seem happy to see me.” He glanced at the ladies, who were still standing, watching them avidly. Normally Dareena would have sent them away the moment he crossed the threshold of their suite. “You are dismissed for the evening,” he said.

  The women bowed again, then left the room. Drystan turned back to Dareena, then frowned as he noticed her gaze had gone blank. “Darling?” he asked, pulling her into his lap. Her entire body had gone stiff. “What is wrong?”

  For a minute, he thought she was simply ignoring him. But suddenly, she sprang to her feet. “Have more care before you manhandle a pregnant woman!” she cried, her eyes sparking with anger. “You should show more respect to your future bride.”

  “I meant no offense,” Drystan said, taken aback by her behavior. Rising from his chair, he took Dareena by the shoulders. “Are you sure you’re all right? Should I ask the herbalist to brew a soothing tonic for you?”

  “I don’t need a tonic,” she snapped, pushing his hands off. “I just need to be left alone.”

  Drystan watched, hurt and bewildered, as Dareena stormed off. He winced as she slammed the door to her room behind her loud enough to make the picture frames rattle. What in Terragaard had gotten into his mate? He knew that pregnancy sometimes made women a bit moody, but this was different. If Drystan didn’t know beyond a doubt that it was Dareena—her scent was unmistakable—he would have thought some warlock spy was impersonating her.

  He called the ladies back into the suite and went to his study. An hour or so later, Alistair came in, looking windswept, his cheeks flushed with healthy color from flying.

  “Ah, the joy of having wings,” he said as he sat in the chair across from Drystan. “If not for Dareena, I think I would spend nearly all my time in dragon form, don’t you?”

  Drystan merely grunted. After his latest encounter with Dareena, he doubted she would even miss him if he shifted into dragon form and took off. He knew he should cut her some leeway—she was growing a baby, after all—but he couldn’t get over how she’d treated him.

  “Is something wrong, brother?” Alistair asked, the cheer dissipating from his voice as he read Drystan’s mood. “Are the councilmen giving you trouble again?”

  Drystan laughed harshly. “If only,” he said, finally looking up at his brother. He could always count on Alistair to lend him an ear, he thought, noting the gentle concern on his sibling’s face. “Dareena rejected me earlier today when I went to spend time with her.”

  “Rejected you?” Alistair frowned. “In what way?”

  Drystan explained the encounter. By the time he finished, Alistair looked troubled. “That does not sound like her at all,” he said. “Perhaps there is something else going on that she is not telling us about. Let me talk to her, Drystan. I might be able to get it out of her.”

  “Take all the time you need,” Drystan said, shoving up from his chair. The idea that she would confide in Alistair rather than him stung more than he wanted to admit. “I’m going to hunt for a bit.”

  “Drystan—” Alistair began, but Drystan ignored him as he stalked from the room. He found the nearest guest room, then stripped off his clothes and climbed onto the roof. The wind whipped around him as he stood on one of the parapets, naked as the day he was born. He knew a few of the guards were looking at him, but he paid them no mind as he launched into the air. Screams echoed from below as he plummeted, but he shifted as he fell, and a few moments later, he soared on an updraft, his wings fully extended.

  He might not be able to solve all the problems in his kingdom right now, or figure out what was going on in Dareena’s head. But he could go kill some more bandits. If nothing else, at least he was good at that.

  27

  Dareena lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the guilt roiling in her stomach tried to consume her from the inside out. During her encounter with Drystan, she kept hoping that Drystan would realize she was under someone else’s control. She’d seen the door open behind Drystan after he’d sat down with her and knew Soldian had slipped back inside, using an invisibility cloak to shield herself. But Drystan hadn’t scented the other lady—he’d been too angry by Dareena’s rejection to notice that someone else was in the room, never mind that Dareena’s every move was being orchestrated.

  As she thought of Soldian, a rage so potent and true filled Dareena that it was a wonder she didn’t set the sheets on fire. She forced herself to calm down, taking slow, deep breaths—the only thing she could do. All this stress couldn’t be good for the babe. She wished she could put her hand on her stomach—the gesture gave her comfort, even though he was far too small to feel. The healers said it would be quite a while before she began to feel the little kicks and motions that expecting mothers experienced.

  Unfortunately, Dareena wasn’t allowed to remain alone for long. She felt a tug in her chest, and her body rose from the bed of its own accord and opened the door. Soldian and Lyria were in the sitting area, cross-stitching beautiful patterns onto linen, and Rantissa had joined them. Dareena guessed she had come back from town and decided she preferred the company of the other ladies rather than sitting in her room alone.

  “My lady,” Rantissa beamed, looking up from her work. “Soldian said you were resting. Are you going to join us?”

  Dareena desperately wanted to cry out to Rantissa and tell her what was going on, but Soldian made her stalk forward and snatch the embroidery hoop out of Rantissa’s hand. “This is terrible,” she scolded, holding the work up to the light. “If you’re going to embroider, surely you can use more than one color!”

  “I-I’m only just starting—” Rantissa stammered, but Dareena threw the embroidery hoop across the room, then whirled on Lyria.

  “You should be reading the rest of those diaries I gave you,” Dareena fumed. “Or have you changed your mind about helping with the celebrations?”

  “Of course not.” Lyria’s eyes sparked with anger. “I have already finished going through them. I was meeting with the steward earlier to give him the new list.”

  “Without informing me first?” Dareena spat. “How do you know that I didn’t wish to add anything else?”

  Slowly, Lyria rose from her chair. Her cheeks were bright red, and she looked this close to slapping Dareena. Dareena saw Soldian watching out of the corner of her eye, her gaze bright. Bitch, she seethed.

  “I may be your lady-in-waiting, but I will not be insulted for doing my job,” Lyria said stiffly. “You are already going to send me packing anyway. I don’t see why I need to stick around any longer.”

  “Fine,” Dareena snapped. “Why don’t you both get out of my sight, then! Soldian is the only one with a good head on her shoulders anyway. The rest of you are useless.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Rantissa said in a choked voice that made Dareena’s heart ache. She curtsied, then hurried out of the room. Dareena’s stomach twisted with guilt as she saw the tears in Rantis
sa’s eyes—she might be annoying at times, but she was a sweet girl. Dareena felt terrible for hurting her.

  “Well?” Soldian demanded when Lyria didn’t budge. “Aren’t you going to move?”

  “On second thought,” Lyria said, looking between the two of them. “I think I’ll stay right here.”

  “I ordered you to leave,” Dareena said coldly as Lyria slowly resumed her seat.

  “Perhaps,” Lyria said, picking up her hoop again, “but the princes have declared that two of us must remain with you at all times. That countermands whatever order you might make.”

  Dareena silently cheered Lyria for that. Soldian looked absolutely furious, but there was nothing she could do. A wave of gratitude swept through Dareena as she looked upon her least favored lady-in-waiting—she didn’t think Lyria truly knew what was going on, but at least she knew something wasn’t right. She prayed that Soldian wouldn’t take to more drastic measures to get rid of her, but then again, Lyria was strong. All dragon born women were trained to fight to some degree, and though Dareena didn’t know if Lyria could outfight a trained assassin, she knew she would not be taken down easily.

  Soldian made Dareena pick up Rantissa’s discarded embroidery hoop and continue working on it. She made Dareena stab herself several times in her fingers—a punishment, Dareena knew, even though she had done nothing. Agony zinged through her every time one of the needles bit in deep, but the wounds healed over almost instantly, which seemed to frustrate Soldian further. Dareena wondered if this was a side effect of being the Dragon’s Gift, if it was her elven blood, or if merely carrying a dragon babe imbued her with this ability.