Muir, Siobhan - Not a Dragon's Standard Virgin (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Siobhan Muir

  The overly sweet timbre of his voice made her want to roll her eyes. “I should think that’s obvious. I was saying my prayers.”

  “Would that not be more appropriate in a warm church?”

  “Not when speaking to the Goddess, as I was.” Isabelle backed up a little. “Who are you, my lord?”

  A melodic chuckle echoed from the hood. “Naught but a humble traveler and fellow supplicant.”

  She snorted. “Aye, you appear of humble origins.” She bit her tongue on her sarcasm. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t judge. Do you have prayers to say, then?”

  “I think mine have been answered.” She sensed more than saw his smile and guessed any number of women fell at his feet with his sweet talk. “But there’s always room for more.”

  “I shall leave you to it, then.” Isabelle retreated from him, not wanting to show him her back.

  “Please, I implore you.” His voice coaxed and cajoled, but the magical qualities only inflamed her irritation. “Bide a while, and share this sacred place with me.”

  “I don’t take up with strangers who can’t even show me their faces.” Where had that come from? Isabelle didn’t know, but she clenched her jaw and stood her ground.

  With another chuckle and a graceful move, he pushed his hood from his head. Long pale-blonde hair hung loose around his shoulders save for two braids woven at his temples, each tied with a black leather cord and a stack of four brightly colored beads. The tips of his ears pointed up through his hair, and a pair of almond-shaped aquamarine eyes studied her over the hint of a smile on thin lips.

  “There, now. Will you stay?” He smiled sweetly and offered her his hand, his eyes full of the promise of comfort and pleasure.

  Oh, holy Goddess, he’s Fae!

  Despite his beauty and the temptation in his eyes, Isabelle found herself immune to his charms. She ran her gaze over him, and her eyes stuck on a pendant hanging from a woven leather thong around his neck.

  It resembled the one her mother had worn.

  She raised her eyes to his face once more. This elf must be from her family if what Jon had said proved true. Then it dawned on her. He wanted to seduce her. Her own family! Her eyes narrowed and her hands fisted in her skirts as revulsion trickled down her back.

  “Nay, I think not. Thank you.”

  She turned and took two steps before he appeared in front of her, his smile still pleasant though his gaze had become fierce.

  “Oh, come now, I can’t be so bad on the eyes.”

  “Aye, and you ken it very well, do you not?” She felt a growl beat against her ribs as she held it back. “But I ken you’re slumming, trying to find some poor, ignorant human to relieve your itch and possibly get with child, which you will then abandon and make the poor mother live with the guilt of being unwed. And worse”—she thrust a finger directly at his chest—“you don’t even ken who I am! Well, nay thank you. You can keep your lusty glances. I’ve said my prayers and I’ll be on my way. You can have the trees to yourself.”

  She turned swiftly, her cloak billowing out from her chest as she made to stride away from the Loch. Again, she’d gone no more than two steps when the elf caught her arm and held her still. Isabelle gasped and jerked to free herself, but he held her without effort. When she looked up in astonishment, she found his gaze fastened to her chest and she momentarily wanted to slap him.

  “Where did you get that pendant?” His anger sizzled in the stormy air.

  “’Twas given to me at my birth.” Isabelle hoped she’d told the truth as she tugged on her arm. “Release me! I’ve done nothing to you.”

  Those aquamarine eyes snapped up to her face and studied her closely. “How old are you, lass?”

  “Four and twenty.”

  “Dear Goddess, has it really been so long?”

  His voice had been softer than a whisper, and his gaze lost focus as if he’d drifted away in his thoughts. Wonder and some other emotion flickered across his expression just before his eyes sharpened on her. “And look at you, all grown up into a beautiful lass so like your mother.”

  Isabelle’s blood ran cold, and she jerked her arm free, skittering away from him.

  “What do you mean ‘so like your mother’? Who are you, and how do you ken her?”

  He chuckled again and looked at her slyly. “I met your mother here one eve as she sat among these holy trees asking for her husband to love her and no other. I couldn’t see any reason not to grant her wish, so I assumed the likeness of her husband and gave her sweet pleasure under the eyes of the Goddess.”

  “You thrice-cursed bastard!” Isabelle’s fury surged, but she kept her distance from the elf. She was angry, not stupid. “You seduced her, and I’m the result! And you never did anything for us. Her husband accused her of straying even while he tupped her, and I’ve been an outcast. Because of you and your slovenly ways.” Her jaw clenched, and distain made her lips curl. “And now, here you are again, slumming your way into another lass’s bed. Your own daughter, no less. Pah! I didn’t think I could have more disgust for anyone more than my mother’s husband, but as my mother’s seducer, you have earned it.”

  His expression hardened, and a warning skittered across her awareness, but she shored up her courage with a reminder that he’d caused all the heartache in her life. And he damn well should ken it!

  “I brought your mother joy.”

  “She thought you were her husband! That brought her joy, until he blamed her for straying when she kenned she hadn’t.” Isabelle’s fury flared like a star in her chest, light and fire blending in a terrible storm. “You must have kenned she was with child, for you brought this.” She grabbed the pendant and held it up defiantly. “You brought it for your child, didn’t you? You brought it in the guise of her husband once more and lied to her again then left us. Left us both. Wheesht, you’re no better than a dog.”

  “Hold your tongue, girl.” The elf’s eyes glowed with wrath.

  “Nay, I won’t! I never have, and you’d ken that if you’d been there. You’d ken I’ve always told the truth, even when it got me thrown out o’ my home. Tellin’ lies is what you do.”

  Rage blazed in a mirroring pair of aquamarine eyes for a few breaths. Brilliant energy crackled like fireworks around Isabelle and her opponent in the clearing of the trees until the Fae male’s look softened and regret filtered through his expression. He took a deep breath and let it out, as if in doing so, he released his anger with it.

  “I’m sorry. Truly sorry.” The elf’s voice soothed, but without the melodious magic meant to seduce her good favor. “You’re right. Your mother was one of the believers in the old ways, and she was beautiful. I wanted her the moment I laid eyes on her. But she loved her husband, and she wouldn’t welcome another’s advances. So I wore a glamour to make her love me, even for a little while.”

  Isabelle’s lips curled with disgust. What men would do to get under a woman’s skirts. Wheesht! What did you do? You offered yourself to a man. He didn’t have to trick you.

  But she’d chosen to offer herself. Joseph only took what he wanted, and this man was no better.

  “When I found out your mother had given birth to you, I came to see her, but I knew she wouldn’t know you were mine unless I looked like her husband, so I wore the glamour once more.” The Fae man’s face filled with reminiscence. “I gave her the pendant and told her I was so pleased we had a daughter, but I couldn’t stay long.”

  “You left us, my lord.” Hurt flooded through Isabelle. “You left us with him, and he hated us both.”

  “I suppose it wouldn’t help to know I checked in on you occasionally.”

  “Nay.”

  He nodded sadly. “I would have taken you with me, at least, but your mother would never give up her baby, and I couldn’t have her with me. My family…” He paused and grimaced a little. “Our family, the d’Ariana family, is an old Fae family. Not the oldest, perhaps, but old enough, and very proud. While they might have accepted a half-F
ae child of mine, they would never accept the woman to whom I’d given that child, and, in all likelihood, killed you both. Though children are very rare to my people, half-blood bastards are destroyed because they’re not considered ‘pure.’”

  “And this is the fault of the child, is it?” Isabelle’s disdain for her father’s people increased.

  “No,” he admitted, “but that’s the way it’s dealt with. Even if you’d been born completely Fae, you would’ve been in danger. Our rivals for position among the Fae Courts, the d’Elrien family, is determined to kill any of our new children so we’ll die out and be a thorn in their side no longer. I knew you’d be a target, along with your mother, so I thought it best to leave you protected within the community of humans, hidden from the mages who sought to do harm among my family.”

  He scanned her face, and Isabelle wished she could hide her emotions as well as he seemed able. “I may seem heartless to you for leaving you and your mother with her husband, but it was the only way I could protect you until you reached an age where you could protect yourself.”

  Isabelle looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “And how, pray tell, am I to do that? I may be half-Fae, but I ken nothing o’ your people. How am I to defend myself from more of your people without such knowledge?”

  He gave her a benevolent smile. “Every Fae child must have their abilities unlocked. It just happens earlier in full Fae because they are with their parents for their formative years. Being half-Fae and living away from us, it has taken me longer to recognize you.”

  “I thought you said you’d checked on me.”

  “I did. I think the last time you were almost a woman.”

  Isabelle thought back to when she first got her woman’s blood. She’d been nearly twelve.

  “That’s your idea of checking up? Twelve years agone?” Isabelle scowled. “’Tis half my life.”

  “It was not my intention to be gone so long. I want to help you.”

  “Help me? Is that what you think you’re doing? Why?”

  “Because you’re my daughter.”

  She just gaped at him. How did that matter in the long run? How would it change things? He said his family fought to protect itself from another family in an ongoing battle, and they didn’t care for half-bloods anyway. Why would he bother to protect her now? Surely continued neglect would have been better than giving her knowledge of what she’d never have.

  “Who are you, then?”

  “Forgive me. I haven’t properly introduced myself.” He flourished an elaborate bow. “My name is Alain d’Ariana, second son of the Lady Orinna d’Ariana, High Seeress of the Sidhe Court of the Summer Queen.”

  Bloody hell, there’s noble Fae blood in my veins.

  Isabelle didn’t know what to feel, but she’d forgotten the cold until an errant breeze ruffled her cloak. She still clutched the cooked rabbits like a drowning woman would a rope, but they no longer had enough heat to distract her mind anymore.

  “Honored to meet you,” she mumbled automatically, curtsying. Then she shook her head and started thinking practically. “But it really means naught. You can’t take me into Faerie, and I can’t go back to the village, so I’m no different than before I kenned you. Still, I thank you for your introduction, and now I’ll be on my way.”

  “Wait.” Alain closed on her, but she drew back before he could grab her again, and he stopped. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you, but why can’t you go back to your village?”

  Isabelle grimaced and looked toward the Loch. “My mother’s husband called me a whore and threw me out. I can’t bring such dishonor to my friends in the village, so I shall make my own way somewhere else from now on.”

  To her surprise, disgust filled Alain’s expression, but he only nodded without asking for an explanation. Isabelle thanked her lucky stars she didn’t have to tell the reason to her Fae father.

  “Well then, you’ll need your abilities all the more if you’re out on your own. Come, let me unlock them for you before you’re on your way.”

  She hesitated, clutching the cooling meat to her belly. “Will it hurt?”

  He chuckled kindly. “No, lass, not in the least measure.”

  He stepped forward, and she braced herself, but he only reached for her hands. “Here, put that bundle down and stand in the center of the trees. This won’t take but a moment.”

  She carefully set down the rabbit meat then stood up, pulling her clothing back into place nervously. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the damp, earthy forest scents and let them soothe some of her uncertainty. ‘Twill be fine, Isabelle. No need to fear. She stepped to the center of the grove of trees and allowed Alain d’Ariana to take her hands. His skin was remarkably smooth and supple, but calluses from where he’d gripped a weapon scratched her palms.

  At his touch, he closed his aquamarine eyes, and time seemed to stand still. The wind stopped, and the sounds around them faded into silence. Isabelle’s eyes drifted shut as she entered a moment of complete stillness. No thought, no sound other than her heartbeat, no sense of danger, fear, anger, or sorrow, just silent tranquility. The moment seemed to stretch into infinity until something snapped, and she jerked back into the present.

  Isabelle opened her eyes and found her blood father staring at her with outrage.

  “What have you done?” he hissed as he released her hands like he’d been burned.

  She looked at him blankly.

  “What have you done?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Your abilities, at least your longevity, have already been unlocked. By a dragon!”

  Though her insides clenched with nervousness, she snorted skeptically. “A dragon.”

  “Yes. You’ve given your innocence to a dragon. Why would you have done such a thing? How dare you sully your line with such a creature?”

  Anger roared up from the depths of her awareness along with amazement. How dare he act as if she’d been his daughter for the last twenty-four years, to be protected and cared for by him? He gave up his right to have some say over what she did or did not do.

  Lifting her chin, she leveled him with her own searing look.

  “That is none of your concern, Alain d’Ariana. You may have sired me, but you forsook my mother and me when I was born. You have no right to demand what I do or don’t do in my life. You didn’t see fit to be my real father.” Her lip curled over her teeth as she bared them at him. “Innocence is only valued by men, for it brings women naught but woe. I chose the man to whom I ‘gifted’ it. I may be young to you, my lord, but I can make my own decisions. You gave up your rights to be my father long ago.”

  “But a dragon?” Alain’s voice held derision.

  “You mean, why not an elf?” she retorted with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t want to follow in my mother’s footsteps quite so closely.”

  They stared at each other with matching animosity until humor crept into Alain’s expression, and he shook his head ruefully.

  “You’re right, Isabelle.” He offered her a conciliatory smile. “I can’t dictate to whom you gift any of your charms, whether your innocence or your smiles. I wish I’d been able to be there for you more than I have.” He cocked his head to one side. “You’re so like your mother. She had the same fire and beauty you carry with you.” He stopped and looked chagrined. “How is she, your mother?”

  Isabelle’s throat closed up, and she tightened her lips against the grief.

  “She’s dead, my lord. Ten years agone.”

  Alain’s face fell, and his shoulders slumped. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve been away too long, I see.” He turned to face the Loch and whispered, “Go with the Goddess, Merrin, and know my love and thoughts wing with you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

  His genuine sorrow arrowed into Isabelle’s chest. It poured off of him and filled her like a rain basin. She could sense his love mixed with his grief mirroring her own. They now shared a d
eeper connection, a recognition of mutual abilities and understanding. It was an odd feeling, and Isabelle squirmed under the knowledge. But it lent her some comfort knowing her blood father loved her mother in his own way and grieved for her loss.

  Her thoughts shattered as the wind shifted direction, and a putrid scent of burned stone and wood filled the glade. She wrinkled her nose and recalled why she’d come in the first place.

  To help that infuriating m— She stopped, thinking over her conversation with Alain. He’d said she’d given her innocence to a dragon. Now, why would you believe Alain over Jon? Isabelle’s gaze drifted to the elf draped in sorrow, and her eyes caught on the pendant around his neck. Because he wears that, and he’s assuredly an elf. Her breath caught. Oh, holy Goddess. Jon really is a dragon! She’d bedded and fallen in love with a dragon.

  Bite your tongue! Love? In love with Jon?

  Isabelle allowed the thought to settle into her gut, but a sense of urgency forced her to shove it aside. The only certainty she felt concerned Jon and the creature threatening the village. A warning shrieked across her awareness. She couldn’t let him fight it alone. It was time to be on her way.

  Isabelle cleared her throat softly. “Thank you for all your help, but I must be going.” She picked up the rabbit meat and wrapped her cloak around her tightly as Alain broke off staring at the Loch.

  “Isabelle, wait.”

  She looked back at her elven father and wondered if she’d ever see him again.

  “Where do you go now?”

  “I must help Jon face the…the creature near the Loch. I don’t believe he can kill it on his own.”

  Alain scoffed a moment. “You forget, daughter, he’s a dragon. He’s meant to kill demons, even powerful ones like the one at your Loch. It’s probably best of you wait for him somewhere safe.”

  But Isabelle shook her head, her gut urging her to go. “I can’t. I must be there. I don’t ken why, just that I must.”

  Alain sighed. “Very well, but keep your wits about you and keep out of sight of the demon, or it will use you against him. You may become a liability instead of an asset.”