by Delia Castel
“That girl,” she said.
“What about her?” Matheson shot back.
“If she is truly a dragon, then she’s mated to Berrin, yet the two of you can’t stand each other.”
He stiffened. “That is correct.”
“Do I need to spell it out to you?”
Closing his eyes, he forced out the words, “The King’s Blessing.”
“Why would you irrevocably bind yourself to someone who is in love with your brother? I would have thought that after Kaida—”
“That is a sore topic.”
“After all these years? I thought all that papaver had burned her out of your system.”
“I should never have started that mess. Facing the consequences of my actions is more sobering than any purgative.”
“You mustn’t blame yourself” murmured Nanny. “You deserve love just as much as the next—”
“I should’ve been there!” He clenched his fists, shattering the vials. The sharp sting of the glass cutting through his palms was a welcome relief to the agony of his curse and crushing guilt.
Pursing her lips, she pulled a cloth from her apron and gathered all the pieces of broken glass. When Matheson transformed the broken skin into scales, healing the wound, Nanny tutted. “And what would you have been able to do? For the past three years, you’ve been in some sort of stupor. Your swordsmanship has become sloppy, and half the time, you couldn’t even remember your own name.”
Tears blurred his vision and grief, heavy on his chest, thickened his throat. “Then I should have died with them!”
“And that would have been the biggest tragedy of all.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and squeezed so tight, Matheson couldn’t help but meet her hard glare. “The master and mistress poured so much love and attention into you, bringing you up to be the next Lord Auburn. I’m sure they would have been devastated to have your life snuffed out so meaninglessly after they fought so hard to keep you alive. It doesn’t matter anymore how you survived those murdering bears. You lived, and that’s all that counts. That wretched Penny might have saved your life by getting you addicted to papaver.”
A harsh laugh escaped his throat. “I don’t share your optimistic assessment of events.”
She shook his shoulders. “You need a she-dragon by your side who is committed to both you and the role of Lady Auburn. Can you honestly say that the girl is the one for you?”
Matheson tore his eyes away from Nanny’s piercing gaze. “There will be no Lady Auburn for me. This curse I carry could pass on to a child.” His throat closed up. “That was one of the excuses Kaida’s father gave for breaking our betrothal.”
“Anyone can say anything to excuse their mercenary actions. Every physician who tended to you assured us the curse would vanish upon your maturity.” She let go of his shoulders and pointed a finger at his chin. “If you get the King’s Blessing, no other she-dragon will touch you. And well-bred half-bloods will give you a wide berth, too. Worst of all, you’ll be stuck with that curse until you’re twenty-five!”
He shrugged. “I have endured it for a decade. Four more years will be tolerable enough. Once the curse removes itself, I can find a nice human girl.”
She clucked her tongue. “You’re too stubborn for your own good. If you’re determined to go through this charade, you may as well get something out of it. One good night with that Marigold, and what ails you will vanish. If she’s a dragon, that is.”
“Surely you aren’t suggesting that I seduce my own brother’s mate?”
She placed the last empty vial in the pocket of her skirts. “It’s no different from what Polaris is trying to do.”
Chapter 9
The next morning, Marigold awoke with Berrin spooned behind her. His strong, muscular arms encircled her waist, and his lightly furred legs were tucked beneath hers. She inhaled his sweet, wood fire scent, which reminded her of the celebrations the orphanage held during Festival Week. One particular festivity involved drinking spiced mead and baking sweet potatoes in a bonfire made of a fragrant mix of wood and pine cones they had collected all year. Those had been simpler times, but she wouldn’t swap them for the warmth of Berrin’s embrace.
She tried to roll over to kiss him good morning, but his arms tightened around her waist. A groan escaped her throat. “Berrin,” she murmured. “I can’t move.”
His linen-clad erection pressed into her buttock. Her silk chemise had ridden up during the night, leaving her exposed. He was so hot, so hard, and so ready. Warmth gathered in Marigold’s belly, stirring her sex, and bringing her awareness to her core. She groaned. His hand snaked up and cupped her breast over the silk lace. His chest rumbled. “Are you in the mood this morning?”
His words were like a splash of cold water to the face, washing away her arousal to reveal the guilt lying beneath the surface. The night before, she had refused his advances. It hadn’t felt right to sleep with one brother while developing feelings for the other. Something about Polaris called to her, and she couldn’t understand why, when she had Berrin. Every time they so much as touched, it would trigger tiny sparks of recognition that transformed into an arousal she had no way of controlling.
At first, she had dismissed it, not even giving the sensations any thought. But spending time alone with Polaris, riding on his back, and resting against his strong, naked body had given her a thrill she had never experienced with anyone. Behind his facade of authority lay passions that excited her to the core. Where Berrin was safe and sweet and loving, Polaris was… enticingly masterful.
Berrin’s other hand stroked her thigh, making its slow ascent towards her dampening folds, and with his other hand, he rolled her nipple between his fingers. He brushed his nose against the sensitive skin of her neck. “I can smell you.”
Closing her eyes, she shuddered. Berrin was not without his charms, and he was a quick learner, observing her reactions to give her exactly what she liked. She parted her legs to give him better access. His fingers slid between her slick folds, gently circling her nub. She rolled her hips to increase the sweet friction.
Berrin nibbled on her neck. “May I give you pleasure this morning?”
A laugh bubbled up in her chest. “What lovely manners!”
He licked along the shell of her ear. “I wouldn’t want to go too far without your permission.”
Her heart melted at his words. He was a far cry from the bear shifters at the House of Corrections who treated the prison like their own personal bordello. Refusing their advances meant fewer rations and the possibility of beatings, and she was proud to have never given into their demands. It was always fortunate that there were enough women eager to give them what they wanted in exchange for luxuries, so the bears never needed to force anyone.
Berrin probably didn’t know how much his tentative affections had helped regain her faith in the opposite sex. She reached around and squeezed his firm, muscular buttock. Any woman would be happy to have such a handsome, loving male. It would be foolish to jeopardize what she had with Berrin for an inexplicable attraction to his older brother. Pushing aside her burgeoning feelings towards Polaris, she murmured, “I’m all yours.”
The hand on her nipple disappeared, and he scrambled out of his thin, linen breeches. Marigold lifted the silk chemise, completely exposing her lower half.
“Mari?” He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to roll her onto her back.
She wiggled her behind. “Lie on your side like before and slip into me. It lasts longer that way.”
“R-really?”
She turned, catching his wide, aquamarine eyes. His lips were parted, and he was breathing hard. Strands of messy-blonde hair framed his face, making him look like a disheveled young squire she’d once read about in an erotic scroll. “If you’d prefer me to ride—”
“No. It would be nice to make love to you without having to battle against spending myself so quickly. Lie back on your side. I want to try this out.”
Warmth
spread across her chest. It was hard to believe that this adorable young gentleman had immolated bear shifters when he radiated so much innocence. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him down and rolled into position. “According to one of my friends, this position is called the ladle.”
Berrin hummed, brushing his fingers over her opening. “I knew you’d be wet.”
She chuckled, reaching back to grip his erect member. “Are we going to lie here talking all day?”
“Absolutely not.” He lined the head of his erection up with his finger and slid into her. Pleasure rippled through her insides, as her muscles adjusted to his girth.
Marigold’s fingers slid down his length to stroke his balls. “Ah! That feels so good!”
Berrin panted into the back of her neck, warming her with his hot breath. Slowly and with torturous deliberation, he rocked his hips, gliding that satisfying length deeper into her core. “I don’t think I’m going to last very long.”
“Relax.” She resisted the urge to squeeze around that hard, thick organ. Her dragon had an exquisite body, and she couldn’t wait for him to become more accustomed to making love. “We don’t have to move just yet.”
He let out a relieved breath and wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s so strange, Mari… I’ve only known you for a short time, but you fill the part of me that’s always felt alone.”
A rush of emotion filled her heart. It surged up her chest, settling in her throat. She had no words to convey how much Berrin’s expression had touched her. Nobody had ever singled her out as being special. To hear those words from Berrin was a balm to her soul, which had suffered years of isolation, rejection and cruelty. She wanted to say that she felt the same, but the words caught in her throat. Perhaps old superstitions were rearing up. The night Unwin had expressed such feelings towards her, she had later awoken surrounded by officers from the House of Corrections.
She ran her hands over the forearms wrapped around her waist and murmured, “I suppose that’s what being mated feels like.” Being connected to Berrin was wonderful beyond her most fevered dreams. But something deep within her yearned for more. Pushing away those treacherous feelings, she squeezed around his rigid member. “I need you. Now.”
“A-all right.” He slid out of her in a movement so prolonged, it made her yowl like a cat in heat. Then, with as much care, he slid back in.
Her muscles pulsed around him, eliciting a growl, which reverberated against her back. Marigold moaned, fluttering around his hard length as he pumped in and out of her. The arms encircling her waist relaxed, and he snaked one hand up the front of her torso and returned to her breast. “You feel so perfect,” he murmured between breaths. “So tight… so wet… so mine!”
She cocked one leg to the side and rocked against his movements, heightening the friction and deepening the penetration. Berrin’s other hand slid down her belly, between her folds. He circled her nub, eliciting sparks of pleasure that made her muscles clamp around him.
“Oh!” he groaned, pumping faster.
Ecstasy burned Marigold’s every nerve ending, and she cried out. It was all too much. The hard, heavy body thrusting into her, the questing fingers teasing both nipple and clit, his labored breaths. He surrounded her, pleasuring, teasing, taking. Berrin’s teeth grazed her exposed neck, and she gasped. A low, sexual growl vibrated against her back, and his blunt teeth sank into her skin. A shockwave of pleasure rocked her body, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. She had expected the bite to hurt, but instead, her pleasure spiked, and she felt her orgasm approach. Did dragon males hold their partners’ necks with their teeth while they mated? Polaris would probably know. Berrin’s thrusts became deeper, and Marigold imagined the General behind her ordering her to open her legs wider as he took his pleasure. His hands would be rougher, thrusts more demanding, he would be relentless and masterful, taking charge and reducing Marigold to a whimpering mess.
Her treacherous body took that as the time to clench around Berrin’s length, and every ounce of pleasure he had given her blasted back through her body in a series of violent and intense spasms. Marigold cried out and clutched at Berrin’s arms. His thrusts quickened, and he lapped at her neck before coming to a shuddering climax. Spurts of hot fluid hit the walls of her core, and her muscles ripped around his hot, pulsing organ.
“I want more,” he snarled.
Marigold turned to find Berrin’s eyes half-lidded and transformed into golden, slitted pupils. Berrin’s nostrils flared, and his lips parted, revealing teeth that pointed at the ends. A pleasant tingle rippled over her skin at the arousing sight of her half-wild mate. If it had been any other male in bed with her, she might have been frightened, but Berrin would never hurt her, no matter how deep into his instincts. “Take it.”
He rolled her onto her back and grabbed both buttocks with hands that she suspected might be half-transformed. Thick nails dug into her flesh as he spread her legs open. He knelt over her, his gaze lingering on her sex. “Beautiful.”
Marigold would have flushed if she wasn’t already so aroused. She smiled up at him. “So are you.”
The pad of his thumb brushed over her clit, sending a burst of sensation through her pelvis. She arched her back and spread her legs further, urging him to continue. He circled her nub again and again, his slitted eyes watching her like a predator waiting to strike. Marigold jerked and spasmed under his touch. Pleasure built up between her legs, and soon, she didn’t care why he no longer looked entirely human, as long as he didn’t stop. The more he teased, the louder she moaned. Soon, everything—his slitted eyes, his sharp teeth, his clawed fingers—disappeared and it was just her and her clit and that wickedly clever thumb.
Marigold’s cheeks flamed, sweat broke out over her feverish skin, doing nothing to quench the heat building up between her legs. Her thighs trembled as her arousal built and built, gathering around her core until she felt it would explode. Marigold’s gasps mingled with Berrin’s growls, and before she knew it, a violent shudder broke out across her body.
“Oh Ber—”
She didn’t get a chance to complete her sentence, as the bulbous head of Berrin’s member breached her entrance, and he delved into her, encasing himself fully. Marigold’s muscles spasmed around the thick length pounding into her with wild abandon. His movements prolonged her climax, and she held onto his hard buttocks, urging him to go faster, deeper, harder. Berrin buried his head in the crook of her neck, licking, teasing, and nipping. Each of his thrusts heightened her pleasure, ripping high pitched gasps from her throat.
Berrin gave one last, deep thrust, shuddered, and collapsed onto her body, grasping her hand. “Oh, Mari… I’m so sorry!”
Her hands slid up his back. “What for?”
“I lost control.”
She smiled. “I quite enjoyed your wilder side.”
He shook her head. “You don’t understand… I have this untamed magic inside me. It should never have reared itself while we made love. What if I had transformed and ripped you apart?”
“Berrin.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “That would never have happened.”
“It might have.”
“We’re mates, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but—?
“You told me that our mating triggered the magic of your transformation. Could you imagine it trying to kill me?”
His muscles relaxed. “No…”
“Then stop fretting. Besides, your out-of-control side is really exciting.”
He lifted his head, staring at her with wide scandalized eyes. “Marigold!”
She threw her head back and laughed. Eventually, Berrin’s chuckles joined hers, and he relaxed onto his back, pulling her onto his chest.
“Every moment with you is a new experience.” His hands circled the slight curve of her belly. “It’s like having been awakened to a world of exquisite smells and tastes and sights after a lifetime of being muffled.”
The words were like talons piercing her hear
t and squeezing it like an overripe tomato. How could she betray the trust of this beautiful soul by coveting his brother? It was one thing to make a commitment before the King to Matheson. The middle brother meant nothing to her, and she had agreed to pretend to be Matheson’s mate to save the brothers’ inheritance and to give herself a measure of protection from Governor Hertz. But her desire for Polaris was real. Since when had she become so treacherous?
Smoothing back strands of sweat-dampened hair that had stuck to his face, she smiled. “I don’t have the words to describe how it feels to be with you. I suppose it’s like a dream.”
His face lit up, and his eyes, now back to aquamarine, sparkled. “Really?”
She nodded. It was the truth. While her cellmates chatted about their brief encounters with noblemen who had swept them off their feet, Marigold had never dared to wish the same for herself. Not even in the darkest days of being locked in a solitary cell for having refused the advances of one of the guards. After Unwin’s betrayal, she couldn’t imagine herself trusting a male of any species.
Berrin was about to speak, when two sharp raps on the door stole his attention. He turned, and Marigold exhaled. Right now, even Matheson crashing into the bedroom berating them for being in love was more preferable to wallowing in the guilt of mentally betraying Berrin. He reached under the covers and scrambled about until he retrieved his linen breeches.
Marigold sat up on the fourposter, glad to have not divested herself of her chemise. Licking her lips, she ogled the rippling of muscles under Berrin’s golden skin as he eased on the garment. After a brief glance over his shoulder, presumably to check that she was decent, he strolled to the door and cracked it open.
Although his body covered the gap, Nanny’s voice was unmistakable. “The young mistress has a guest.”
