by Ophelia Bell
Belah stared down at the writing, almost dizzy from the abrupt shift in the turul woman’s behavior. That was it?
“That’s all I have for you,” Sophia said. “Unless you want to tell your friends it’s a girl, but I’ll leave that up to you.” She ushered Belah back toward the doorway where Geva and Erika were seated on the top step, with Erika leaning on one wall and Geva on the opposite. Erika’s bare foot was in Geva’s lap and he was slowly massaging her instep while her eyelids fluttered in contentment.
When Belah appeared, Erika opened her eyes and smiled up at her.
“If I’d known how much more attentive dragons were for their pregnant mates, I’d have made sure he knocked me up sooner.”
Chapter Four
Going on a “date,” as Erika called it, was quite a production. The other female fussed over Belah’s attire, hair, and makeup, her attention reminding Belah of her time as Empress in Egypt and the way her slaves had flitted around her every day. Finally, with Erika’s approval, they left the apartment and climbed into a sleek, black car that drove them to another part of the city.
The restaurant itself was barely noticeable, except for the strong aromas of delicious food wafting up from a grate in the sidewalk. She felt overdressed when they descended the steps to what seemed to be a basement beneath a tall building, but once inside, she understood why she was dressed the way she was.
A pair of Shadows flanked the entry, a subtle reminder of the pair of black dragons who were tasked with unobtrusively ensuring her safety, and who were somewhere nearby now, watching over her. Inside, the restaurant was decorated with the richest décor she’d seen since her own dining hall at her palace. The room was filled with members of the higher races—dragons and turul, mostly, but here and there she caught sight of an ursa or a nymph.
She followed Sophia North’s instructions when she spoke to the maître’d. He nodded and instructed a hostess to lead her deeper into the restaurant while Erika and Geva requested a separate table.
Uncertain of what to expect, Belah sat silently at the table and stared at the empty chair across from her. At some point, a waitress set a goblet of red wine in front of her and another at the empty setting.
Would whoever sat there be the one? She heard the music in her head as clear as the melody that played over the restaurant’s sound system, though it paled in comparison to what she’d heard from the turul band Erika shared with her.
A moment later, she heard footsteps from behind and turned to see a striking man with thick, blond hair that brushed his collar, and sky-blue eyes that settled on her intently.
He gave her a forced smile and paused at her seat. “You must be Belah. My grandmother said you were beautiful. I didn’t expect a woman inspiring enough to stand in as a muse, though.”
“Thank you,” she said, trying to hide her confusion at his hidden disappointment. She could tell he had expected something different, but he was being polite in spite of it.
He covered his reaction with an appreciative sweep of his gaze down her body when she rose to greet him, then took her hands warmly in his and bent to kiss her knuckles. The slight breath he released made her skin tingle, and she couldn’t suppress the shimmer of blue scales that erupted faintly beneath the surface. Her date’s eyes widened and he smiled.
“Oszkar West, at your service,” he said, straightening up with a twinkle in his eyes. “But you can call me Ozzie.” A slight hint of rough, rumbling accent bled through what she sensed was a poor attempt at appearing more refined than he was. His appearance made similar surface pretenses—he wore a suit of fine fabric, but his golden hair was long and slightly unkempt, and his cheeks were covered with a day’s growth of matching scruff that accented otherwise clean, sharp features.
“Belah,” she said simply.
They both sat and regarded each other while she took a sip of her wine. Any trace of his disappointment was long gone—now the filmy cloud of his aura crackled with silvery bolts of light, signaling his excitement.
“I like that you don’t bother with the formality of a surname. I always wondered why dragons took human names. Names like ‘Smith’ and ‘Jones’ never fit.”
“Humans used to take their names from us, you know. How many human ‘Wests’ are out there, do you think? Yet here you are, one of the direct descendants of Zephyrus. I’m curious, Ozzie, how many generations removed are you?”
He gave her a secretive smile as he summoned the waitress.
“Have you ever eaten here before?”
“Never,” Belah said. This restaurant hadn’t even existed the last time she’d set foot outside the Glade. Most restaurants hadn’t existed then.
“Then would you mind if I order for us both? If you’re as hungry as you look—” He glanced down at the hand that had betrayed her need for energy. “—then you’re going to need the full set of courses. Trust me, the food here is as close to replacing true Nirvana as you can get.”
Belah shook her head, pleased that he would offer to cater to her needs.
He rattled off a long list of dishes to the waitress that were half-familiar and half-foreign to her, but all sounded delicious. Every few seconds he paused and asked her preference, until he finally realized that she truly was happy to be served whatever he chose.
“Thank you for that,” he said when the waitress disappeared with a bewildered look. “Most women wouldn’t let me get away with taking that much control over a meal. You’d be surprised how hard it is for us to spoil our lovers nowadays.”
“I suppose I miss being spoiled a little,” Belah said, smiling and forcing away the memory of kneeling at another man’s feet while he hand-fed her morsels of food from his own plate.
Glancing around, she took in the rich décor and the joyful energy that permeated the place. The best part was that none of the patrons knew who she was or what she represented. She was beginning to enjoy this world more and more, now that she was essentially anonymous. Enough time had passed that her part in the Ultiori’s creation was little more than a legend—and aside from the dragon Court, she and her siblings were close to being considered myths by all the higher races.
She would no longer have the stature of queen, empress, or goddess if she didn’t want it, nor the burden. And though it was clear to her from Ozzie’s initial reaction that he wasn’t the male from her dreams, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility for her to find another like him who might treat her as though he treasured her.
Or owned her. The words popped into her head unexpectedly and she shut her eyes to the spike of nausea that erupted in her stomach. That was not what Ozzie wanted—that much she had read in his solicitous behavior so far.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, wrapping his hand around her wrist.
The heat of his palm seemed to sear her, the pressure of his fingertips on her pulse point just heavy enough to bring back an ancient memory she’d long buried. She jerked her hand away from him with a sharp cry and opened her eyes, staring—surprised both at his touch and her reaction to it.
He immediately held his hands up. “Whoa, I didn’t mean to piss you off. You didn’t look so hot there for a second.”
Belah struggled to gather herself and plaster on a calmer face. “No… I’m sorry. It’s just been a really long time since I’ve… replenished.”
The tense rigidity of Ozzie’s shoulders seeped away and he leaned back with a deep, soft chuckle that reminded Belah of the percussive rhythm in the music Erika had played for her. The sound immediately calmed her.
“I’m prepared to be the appetizer, if it would help,” he said. He cleared his throat, toying with the stem of his wine glass. If it hadn’t been for his steady gaze meeting hers, she’d have thought he was being shy.
Belah shook her head and sighed. “You don’t have to do this. We both know I’m not your true mate. Don’t deny you weren’t happy
once you figured that out. Why waste any more time with me?”
Ozzie frowned and sat forward in his chair. “No, you aren’t my One. I’ve been looking for her forever, practically. When Nanyo Sophia told me she’d set me up on a date with a dragon hoping for a turul mate, do you have any idea how excited that made me? This is fucking reverse Cinderella. I’m only disappointed because I knew the second I saw you that I was one of the ugly stepsisters.”
“You’re far from ugly … and definitely not a female,” Belah began, but he stopped her.
“My point is that you are still Prince … ess Dragon Charming, or whatever. It doesn’t matter how many turul males you meet; we will all want you, even if it’s just for a night. I was only offering to speed that up because you seem to need it.”
“I’m not quite the catch you think I am,” Belah said, taking a shaky sip of her wine and forcing a smile.
“You’re a dragon, baby. That’s enough for most of us. And I can promise you that if I’d gotten that true-mate spark that told me you were my One, we would not be sitting here waiting for food right now. If you really are meant for one of my kind, I envy the bastard who gets to have you.”
She let out a soft sigh. You wouldn’t if you knew the truth, sweet son of Zephyrus.
Ozzie’s head twitched to the side as though he’d heard something. He blinked and focused inward, then closed his eyes and shook his head. Belah bit her lip, remembering that turul only needed a breath to catch you in a lie, and hoped he hadn’t caught her errant thought on the air that escaped her lips.
“Whatever secrets you have that you think would be deal breakers don’t matter to me. If you want me as part of your meal, I’m just putting that on the table. I’m offering as a willing partner to a female I believe deserves to be served whatever she desires. Take it or leave it.”
Belah smiled. Before she could reply, a small plate was set in the center of the table and the unmistakable aroma of fresh fish hit her nostrils.
Across from her, Ozzie tapped his fingers on the tabletop in a familiar rhythm that made her heart beat in tandem. He eyed the food in front of them, licked his lips, and grinned at her.
Belah bet he’d be an enthusiastic lover. Perhaps she’d take him up on his offer, but if the first course was any indication for how the entire meal would be, he would have to wait for dessert.
She enjoyed the rest of the meal so much, she completely forgot she’d arrived with Erika and Geva, who’d been dining unseen nearby, or that her pair of Shadow dragons were stationed somewhere within mental reach of her. When the meal was over, the pair would continue shadowing her and her date and would remain with her for the rest of her trip.
When the dessert had been served and consumed and the meal finally paid for, she accepted Ozzie’s suggestion for a walk in the park. The moon was rising, full and silver-bright when he led her through the streets, deftly navigating the traffic. The swiftness with which the human world moved defied logic. Still, she allowed him to direct her with one arm around her waist and his deep voice in her ear, telling her to watch for puddles.
After meandering along winding stone paths through the night among the well-kept park, they finally stopped. The sight before her took her breath away. They were in a large plaza that reminded her of her old courtyard in Alexandria. At the bottom of the staircase Ozzie led her down was a giant pool with a fountain. An angel stood atop a large pedestal in the center of the fountain, water cascading down from the surface of it and into another tier before hitting the pool below. Beyond the fountain on the other side, the light from the rising moon reflected off a small lake.
Belah stood, enraptured by the sight of the winged beauty cast in silhouette by the orb of light behind her. Magic thrummed through the place, making her itch with need for a taste of it.
She turned and laughed delightedly. “This is beautiful!”
Ozzie’s grin widened as he came up beside her. “It’s a favorite spot of ours. My family’s been playing music in the park for as long as it’s existed, and she’s always been a bit of a muse to us.”
Staring up at the angel, Belah said, “I bet it was the other way around … some enamored artist saw the truth through your music and made her in your image.”
His hand slid up the low-cut back of her dress, skin against skin. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder that made her shiver. “You don’t believe in angels?”
Belah sighed and leaned against him, enjoying the warm, intimate contact and the comfort of his arms as they wrapped around her. “Not in the sense most humans do. I believe in winged sons and daughters of gods and goddesses, because I know they exist. You are evidence enough of that.”
“Do you believe in devils?” he asked, pulling her around to face him and leading her backward. A light shimmered deep in his eyes that Belah found deliciously wicked.
“Only the kind devious enough to seduce a dragon.” He may not have been the man she sought, but he deserved a prize for entertaining her so well tonight.
She found herself beneath the arched entry of the lower level of the terrace, in the shadows of the corridor that ran beneath the staircase they’d come down. Cold stone met her back as Ozzie pushed her against the wall. His hot lips brushed against her jaw.
“Someone followed us,” he whispered between kisses down the line of her throat. “I didn’t want to say anything because I was afraid I’d ruin the mood.”
“I know,” she breathed. “They’re my friends.” If it wasn’t Geva and Erika that Ozzie had sensed, it was probably the pair of Shadows who were trailing her.
“Do they mind watching?”
“Do you mind if I don’t mind if they mind?” She tilted her hips into his, pleased at the hard bulge in his pants and the way his eyes fluttered shut when she rubbed against him.
“By the Winds, no.”
He cupped the back of her head and lowered his mouth to hers, while his other hand slid down her torso to slowly ruck up the length of her long, velvet dress.
Just as his fingertips snaked along the juncture of her hip, a cold wind blew through carrying a scent she knew, but hadn’t encountered in thousands of years. At first it didn’t register outside the anticipation of Ozzie’s touch between her thighs.
A rough grunt sounded in her ear and Ozzie’s warmth disappeared an instant later.
Belah opened her eyes in time to see a man-sized shape fly through the air, hit the wall across from her with a crunch, and crumple to the floor.
The familiar scent washed over her again. Her mind tumbled through a tangling web of memories. Arousal and pain, deep love and raw need, and above all, that unmistakable craving for oblivion.
She fell to her knees, unconscious of everything but her need to feel the hard ground biting into her kneecaps. The pain had only ever been a prelude to the release that powerful presence soon gave her.
In the corner of her vision, she saw Ozzie’s body move, sluggishly trying to rise before he fell to the ground again and groaned out a harsh curse. She couldn’t move now, either. Not when he stood over her.
Before her, his dark, familiar shape loomed large, with three other shadowy figures behind him.
“Little beast,” Nikhil said. “I’ve missed you.”
Chapter Five
Belah forced herself to look up at Nikhil. Her throat didn’t want to work, but she made herself speak. “I’m not the woman I was with you, Nikhil.”
His mouth twisted in a wry, humorless smile as he regarded her kneeling form.
“Your body begs to differ. I can smell your need for what only I could ever give you. That you would greet me this way proves you still belong to me.”
No. Something about him was all wrong—but what had she expected? A roiling wave of nausea overtook her and she doubled over, bracing her palms on the ground while she retched, her primal need for him at war with her knowledge
of what he had become. She belonged to no one, and whatever need he claimed to scent on her wasn’t because of him, but rather, because of her simple need for energy—energy that Ozzie had been about to provide before they were interrupted. She wouldn’t let Nikhil have that honor again. Once he may have been worthy of it, but not now—not after all he’d done in her name and without her blessing.
She wiped a thin trail of saliva from her lower lip and forced herself to stand. Her knees shook and she clenched her fists to still the tremors that ran up her arms.
She raised her head and opened her eyes.
What she saw wasn’t anything like the memory she had of him, and delving into his mind revealed secrets that he’d never kept before. The once fearless warrior chomping at the bit to conquer the world for her glory was now filled with a singular, twisted need. He craved power, pain, and death like never before, that darkness a nearly opaque coating on what had otherwise been a vibrant aura when he was young.
Belah ached to turn back time, to return to her chamber in her palace in Egypt that first night he took her to that place of eternal release. If only she could tell herself that all hope was not lost, that the key to finding her children was within her grasp. If only she had marked him then—made him a proper mate—he would not have become this abomination.
It was too late now. Fire burned in her belly, her need to destroy the monster she’d created rising. She quashed that, too, but not before a flicker of blue flame escaped her lips, shooting just far enough to tickle the side of his jaw.
Nikhil flinched, his hand shooting up to his cheek. He hissed and his eyes widened.
“What did you do?”
Belah was still fighting to hold back the urge to set him alight and watch him burn. He had her babies, and had to somehow be convinced to tell her where he kept them.
