by Delia Castel
Straddling his thighs, she crashed her lips on his. He was the amazing one. So big, so beautiful, so responsive, so ready. Stroking him to hardness, she grazed her teeth along the skin of his neck. Berrin shuddered, and a growl rumbled in his throat. The sound reminded her of the ferocious, blood-red dragon who had loomed above the murderous bears and immolated them to protect her. With a mate like Berrin by her side, she would never know frustration, never know hunger, never know misery. Gripping his shoulder with one hand and his thick length with the other, she raised her hips, ready to impale herself.
A knock interrupted them. Marigold jumped.
Berrin growled his frustration and swept back wet, caramel-colored hair off his face. “I’d better get that. It might be important.”
She placed her feet on the ground, reached out to the wall, grabbed a linen towel from a peg, and wrapped it around herself. Giving Berrin’s erection a pointed look, she handed him another towel.
He grinned, wrapped it around his hips, and sauntered to the door. “I won’t be long.”
Watching the rippling of his muscles and the curve of his linen-clad behind, she licked her lips in anticipation of his return.
Polaris stood at the door, still naked. “The mansion is clear of intruders. Blacksmith and his family are recovering from the effects of some sort of sleeping draft.”
She smoothed the wet hair off her face. He had to be talking about that winged, bird-headed lion that had been lying on the lawn. She hadn’t even known that there was more than one of them.
Polaris continued. “We will convene in the small dining room in ten minutes. Now that you’ve consoled Marigold, I need to bathe.”
Heat bloomed up the back of her neck and spread across her face. She ducked her head. Had he heard them? A soft snort escaped her nostrils. Of course, he had. If Berrin could scan the mansion for heartbeats, Polaris could hear her yowling like a wanton wildcat. Berrin turned to her, a sheepish expression crossing his features. “Come on. Let’s find you another outfit.”
The flush on her face spread down to her chest and pooled in her belly. She was already aroused from earlier and knowing that the General had heard her in the throes of climax caused a thrill to swirl between her legs. Berrin held open the door, and she scooted around Polaris. Her gaze skittered over his beautiful, muscular body and she flicked her eyes to his face. He flared his nostrils, seeming to inhale her scent. Marigold’s pulse beat faster, and her tiny bundle of nerves swelled and throbbed along with her heartbeat.
After getting dried and dressed, they headed downstairs to the dining room. It was a grand room lit by a brass chandelier, under which stood a walnut wood table and enough carved chairs to seat twelve. Matching sideboards, cabinets and cupboards, some topped with candles, lined the magnolia-colored walls, giving the room a cozier feel. Unlike most of the rooms in the mansion, this one did not boast any family portraits. Instead, she found wood-framed mirrors and watercolor paintings of flowers. Marigold got the impression that the room was a cozy space not used for guests.
Several covered platters of food lay on the table among bottles of wine and sweet mead. Her stomach rumbled. Matheson sat at the foot of the table, glaring at them with bloodshot eyes. His ginger hair hung unbound around his scowling face. Marigold’s stomach churned. That dragon was so unpleasant! If Berrin was the heir instead of Matheson, presenting herself to the Crown Court as his mate would be an honor.
Berrin guided her to a seat, and she sighed. She had learned years ago not to wish for a different life. Being in this mansion and having the company of two strong, handsome, and protective dragons was more than a girl from the Priory Orphanage could wish for. If she had to endure Matheson to keep both Berrin and her freedom, it would be worth the sacrifice.
Matheson’s gaze raked over her borrowed outfit of a linen shirt and breeches. “Are you hungry, Goldilocks? I thought you’d be full after devouring Polaris with your eyes.”
Her breath hitched. What had Matheson seen earlier. Shooting Berrin a nervous look, she blurted, “I did no such thing!”
“Stop being so rude,” snapped Berrin. “That is no way to address a lady.”
Matheson folded his arms across his chest. “I’m only protecting your heart, little brother. A rare beauty like Goldilocks has the pick of any dragon, including the four princes. I know it, you know it, and she knows it, too. Have you not noticed that your frightened little servant girl now has a backbone?”
Irritation prickled Marigold’s skin. “I’ve always stood up for myself. Knowing that I’m a dragon has made no difference!”
He snorted and lifted his goblet to his lips. “That remains to be seen.”
“Ignore him, Marigold.” Berrin placed his hand over hers. “He’s obviously still addled from smoking papaver.”
Matheson slammed his fist on the table, making all the crockery jump. “Take that back.”
“Apologize to Marigold.”
“Or what?” he growled.
Berrin stood, and Marigold’s stomach plummeted. She sprang to her feet, placing both palms on Berrin’s chest. “Please, don’t fight. There’s been enough violence today.”
“He can’t get away with—”
“Please!” she cried. “Be the bigger dragon.”
“Well said.” Polaris strolled into the room clad in a linen shirt and breeches. His damp, dark hair hung loose on his shoulders. After having seen him naked, she had trouble not imagining the strong, muscular form underneath the clothing.
Cheeks heating, Marigold tore her gaze away. Matheson scoffed, and Marigold cringed. He had seen her look at Polaris again. She lowered herself to her seat and hunched her shoulders, staring into her empty plate. What was wrong with her? Berrin was everything she needed in a male. He was sweet and kind and handsome. He gave her pleasure, and with a bit more practice, he would drive her to unimaginable heights of ecstasy. So, why did her body react so wantonly to Polaris? He was just an older, broader, and darker version of Berrin.
“You two should eat,” said Polaris. “Dr. Squamatus is on his way with elixirs to help with the blood loss.”
Berrin lifted the domes from the plates, revealing a selection of cured meats, bread, cheeses, and fruit. Marigold’s mouth watered, and she reached for a slice of bread.
Polaris sat at the head of the table. “Our first priority is to get Matheson declared as a fully-grown dragon.” He glanced at Marigold. “The quickest way to do this is to bring you to the courts and announce your mating. Judge Embers will then be able to review Father’s will and Grandfather’s evidence against Uncle Hertz.”
Berrin leaned forward. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t do this, but why can’t you present the evidence to the judge? Or Father’s advocate if they won’t listen to a member of the King’s Regiment?”
Matheson spread his arms wide. “At last, wise words from the baby.”
“Who happens to be a fully grown dragon.” Marigold smirked. “Which is something you’re not.”
Matheson turned to her, malice gleaming in his green eyes. Marigold tried not to shrink under his scrutiny. “If you’re offering,” he drawled, “I’ll have you on the table, next to the charcuterie.”
A growl reverberated from Berrin, but she placed a calming hand on his arm. Clenching her teeth, she said, “I’ve heard that distilled wormwood can shrink a man’s appendage, so I’ll stick with a real dragon, thanks.”
Matheson’s face turned the shade of crimson lava. “You little bit—”
“Enough!” Polaris roared.
The sound went straight through Marigold’s bones, and she squeezed her legs together. Lowering her gaze, she murmured, “I’m sorry.”
“There is no need to apologize.” Berrin grabbed her hand. “You were provoked.”
“Is this the way you treat the she-dragon who has offered to save your inheritance?” Polaris’s voice was as cold as the Golden Sea. “Do not forget, brother, that Uncle Hertz poisoned our parents with papaver, and Vulc
an knows what else, to render them powerless. This is the same dragon who sent a gang of bear shifters to this house to capture Marigold and to kill Berrin. She saved our brother’s life! If they had not mated, he would never have been able to transform!” His voice shook with emotion. “So don’t you dare disparage Marigold. She is the key to saving this family, and if you chase her away with your words, you will be destitute, and Uncle Herz will get away with murder.”
Marigold’s heart swelled. No one had ever directly or indirectly called her a hero.
Polaris turned to her. “I apologize for describing you in such utilitarian terms. Unfortunately, this is the only way I can get through to Matheson.”
“I-it’s fine,” she murmured.
Polaris glared down at Matheson. “What do you have to say to the lady?”
Matheson’s lips formed a tight, white line. Angry, green fire, like that burning under a copper pot, colored his irises. His flushed cheeks clashed with his long, rust-colored hair, which shone like candle flames in the light. Marigold lifted her chin, waiting for his apology. His gaze, laden with resentment, flickered to Polaris. When his brother continued to glower, Matheson flared his nostrils. “I…” He gritted his teeth as though uttering the words were a burden. “I am sorry.”
Marigold’s lips curved into a smile. “I hope this marks the end of hostilities.”
He closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. “I will endeavor to treat you with the respect that you deserve.”
She narrowed her eyes at the double meaning, but Berrin lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She gazed into his soft, blue eyes and offered him a smile.
“Thank you,” said Polaris in a tone that implied he would resort to violence if Matheson interrupted proceedings. While he explained how the Crown Court was only open today for a special trial, Marigold and Berrin filled their plates with meat and cheese. Apparently, King Vulcan’s youngest child, Princess Snowdrop, had been tried in absentia for treason. Many representatives of high society families had been in attendance, including Governor Hertz, who had temporarily taken on his brother’s duties as the governor of Austellus.
Marigold dropped her slice of bread. “That means he could bring the authorities here at any time!”
Polaris nodded and opened a bottle of mead. Its rich honey and floral scent filled her nostrils. He poured its contents into three glasses. “It’s peculiar that he sent mercenaries after you instead of government officials.”
“Wait,” said Matheson. “I thought those bailiffs from before returned to attack.”
Polaris shook his head. “These were different shifters.”
They continued talking about the plan, and Marigold finally got the chance to eat. It was simple enough. All she needed to do was present herself in court beside Matheson, sign a piece of paper and let the brothers do the legal work. If Matheson won his case, she would become Lady Auburn and beyond the reach of Governor Hertz’s official power.
Marigold’s thoughts drifted to something Berrin had said about wanting to take her out as his mate. Both brothers had mentioned cases where brothers or brothers-in-arms had mated with the same she-dragon. This was due to male dragons greatly outnumbering their female counterparts. Her gaze flickered from Berrin to Polaris. Their human forms were exactly the type she found attractive. Even Matheson was handsome if you ignored his awful personality and scowl. She tilted her head to the side. “If there aren’t enough female dragons to go around, why are Ella’s stepsisters single?”
Berrin shuddered, and Polaris stiffened. It was Matheson who spoke first. “Unlike human females, she-dragons don’t have dowries. Instead, their parents request a bride price. I have never inquired, but I expect that the former Princess Brimstone has demanded a price commensurate with her imagined social standing.”
“What do you mean?” asked Marigold.
Polaris slid two goblets to Marigold and Berrin. “Her father was King Draco of Habilis before he lost his kingdom to a human coup. Had he still been the ruler, Lady Brimstone’s daughters would have been princesses.”
“Most dragons can’t afford the bride price of a Princess.” Matheson snickered into his own goblet. “Those who can would rather spend it on a bride who does not look like a horse.”
Polaris shook his head. “Must you be so cruel?”
“Don’t tell me your tastes run to the equine?” Matheson’s eyes danced with mirth. “One would think you preferred damsels with ringlets of gold.”
Her heart jumped, and she stole at a glance at Polaris, whose gaze had frozen.
With one elbow on the table, Matheson rested his chin in his palm. “You see, a she-dragon with a beauty as dazzling as yours is free to demand a king’s ransom as a bride price. She’s free to flit from one dragon to another, breaking hearts, shattering bonds of brotherhood until she has had her fill.”
Her words dried up in her throat, and she ducked her head. Both Berrin and Polaris stiffened at Matheson’s words, and her insides squirmed with shame. The thoughts and feelings she had entertained about Polaris had been disloyal, and she would not give Matheson the satisfaction of proving him right. She would not repay the brothers’ kindness by tearing them apart.
Sucking in a deep breath, she raised her chin. “I’m sorry if you’ve experienced such a she-dragon, but Berrin satisfies all my needs.”
Berrin’s posture relaxed, and a long breath escaped his nostrils, as if he had stopped breathing at Matheson’s words. She shot him a triumphant grin.
“I have a question.” Berrin turned to Polaris. “Why can’t I petition the court?”
“Even if you transformed in front of Judge Embers, he would not deem you an adult until you reached twenty-one.”
“Won’t the judge suspect that I might be a human impostor?” Marigold glanced down at her bracelet. “Can we use this as proof that I’m a she-dragon?
“It is too big a risk,” said Polaris. “If any of the markings suggest you are a descendent of the House of Caldor…”
Berrin gasped, and even Matheson grimaced. Marigold’s heart jumped. “Would that be bad?”
“Remember I told you about the Four Kings of Igneous?” asked Berrin.
“The ones who married the same witch?” she rasped.
“There were actually five, and each formed noble houses. Two survived, two perished, and one was struck from history.”
“What does that mean?”
Matheson leaned forward. “Caldor is the house that sided with the fairies in the great war. When our ancestor drove the last of the creatures out of our realm, the fifth king, his wife, and all descendants were executed. Anyone even suspected of being a member of the house of Caldor faces a death sentence.”
Her blood ran cold, and she placed her hands on her lap, so the brothers wouldn’t see them shake.
Berrin rubbed her back. “Their runes are easy enough to find in the history books. Don’t worry. If you turn out to be a Caldor, we’ll just hide the bracelet.”
Polaris cleared his throat. “I did not mean to scare you, but you need to know why you cannot wear that bracelet in society until we understand what it means.”
Marigold nodded.
“There’s also the matter of turning a servant girl into a lady befitting the mate of Lord Auburn.” Matheson’s eyes gleamed. “Can you even write your name?”
Marigold cringed. “I can, but I don’t know how to write in noble calligraphy script.”
Matheson shook his head and downed the rest of his goblet. “How will she fool Judge Embers? She looks, talks, and writes like a human servant!”
“I can teach her to sign her name,” snapped Berrin.
“And I will teach her the basics of court etiquette,” added Polaris. He gave Marigold a small, reassuring smile. “You will only have to answer a few basic questions, not recite the great ballad of Waldhar and Freya.”
Matheson’s face twisted into a grimace. “What if the judge asks where she’s from?”
<
br /> “There are still dragons in Habilis trying to find their way out undetected,” said Polaris. “Nobody will doubt that she’s an orphaned refugee who eked out a living as a servant until she could escape.”
Her eyes widened. There was a ring of truth to that story.
“That’s brilliant, Polaris!” said Berrin.
Marigold squeezed Berrin’s hand and gave Polaris a grateful smile. He winked back, and a hot, prickly flush spread all the way down between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together and suppressed a groan. How in the name of Igneous was she going to stay in close quarters with that dragon without turning into a lecherous little trollop?
Chapter 4
Matheson leaned back in his seat and glared across the dining table at Marigold. It was bad enough that the interloper had stumbled across Mother and Father’s corpses, seduced one brother and was about to seduce another. But having to rely on her to save the family fortune was too much to bear. How had the little wretch inveigled her way into the family? He didn’t care if Polaris believed she had noble blood, he wanted her out!
Without thinking, he rubbed his throbbing arm. A rope of pain leading from where he had pierced himself with the Auburn Flamberge wound from his palm to the socket of his shoulder. Berrin gave him a pitying look and leaned into Marigold. He whispered something into her ear, making her smile and dip her head. Humiliation seared through Matheson’s veins, making his other arm throb in sympathy. With as much dignity as he could muster, Matheson pulled himself to his feet.
“We have not finished,” said Polaris.
He glared at his brother. “It doesn’t take three noble dragons to teach a single girl how to sign her own name. I will leave that task to those of you who are vying for her attention.”
Polaris thinned his lips but did not reply. Matheson shook his head and stepped out of the dining room. Between the efforts of Marigold and Uncle Hertz, the family was falling to ruin. Her blonde curls and easy smiles reminded him so much of Kaida, who had ruthlessly rejected him in favor for his cousin and best friend. Until the day father had opened the scroll announcing her betrothal to Kennet, Matheson had believed they would be mated. The heartless she-dragon had left him without a word or a backwards glance, as though their three years of courtship had meant nothing. Marigold would do the same. She had already sunk her claws into Berrin and was now here luring Polaris into her web. He would wager that as soon as she had destroyed his brothers’ bond, she would move on to the next dragon.
