Mated: Reverse Harem Dragon Shifter Fairytale (Goldilocks and The Three Dragons Trilogy 2)

by Delia Castel

  Since she couldn’t move her head to the left or right to see her surroundings, she had to rely on her other senses. As soon as Hertz had taken a dozen steps down, the hinges moved again. A thud from overhead indicated they were now enclosed in some kind of cave or subterranean passage. Damp chills creeped over Marigold’s skin as she recalled a rumor of the Assassin’s Guild using a network of underground tunnels to travel through the city unnoticed. Any hope she had of being rescued shriveled, along with her heart. No servant would find them and raise the alarm. She was alone here with Governor Hertz and a host of assassins.

  “Not so fast,” said a cold, male voice.

  “What now?” snapped Hertz.

  “I want to inspect the girl.”

  He huffed. “Very well.”

  The Governor set her on her feet and held her upright. After spending so much time upside-down, the sudden movement made her lightheaded. She would have squeezed her eyes shut to fend off the dizziness, but her eyelids wouldn’t move. Her pupils, however, adjusted to the dim lantern light, and Marigold found herself under the scrutiny of a steely-eyed wolf shifter.

  The male didn’t seem much taller than her, and his scraggly, black hair hung down to his unshaven chin. His thin, pointed features reminded her more of a weasel than a wolf, even down to his whiskery mustache. As he turned his head, light reflected off his eyes, making them flash brighter than glow worms. Her insides recoiled, and she held her breath. The wolf shifter jerked his nose up and sniffed. “I smell nothing special about her.”

  “Your job is to oversee my safe passage from the palace, not to assess my repayment plan.”

  “Watch your tongue, Governor. When Magnus Rex passed on your delinquent account to the Guild, you lost your right to petition the debtors’ court for leniency. At any time, we can withdraw our generous grace period and render you into dragon leather and meat.”

  Marigold’s stomach dropped. This explained why Governor Hertz was so desperate for funds, but she still didn’t understand why he needed her. It wasn’t like he could marry her for some imagined fortune, as the King’s Blessing prevented her from forming a mating bond with another dragon. Her throat ached with unvoiced screams. Now that she was in the hands of the Assassin’s Guild, she had no doubt that Hertz was telling her the truth about her situation becoming worse.

  The Governor coughed. “If you would kindly step out of my way, it will hasten the repayment of my debt.”

  “And the penalties and accrued interest.”

  “Of course.” The words came out like a weary sigh.

  Marigold’s eyes welled up. This time, she didn’t need anyone to jostle her for the tears to fall. There was no way out for her. Even if she was in the position to plead or bargain with Hertz, he wouldn’t spare her. The dragon appeared to have too much to lose.

  The wolf shifter moved out of Marigold’s line of sight, and Hertz slung her back over his shoulder again. “My apologies, Merry, but this is our fastest means of transport.”

  The wolf shifter snorted. “You’re a funny one.”

  “There is nothing wrong with courtesy, even in the direst of circumstances.”

  “A she-dragon, eh?” said the wolf shifter. “Pure blooded?”

  “Only the very best.”

  “Still… I can’t see her fetching enough to clear your account in auction.”

  Marigold’s insides froze.

  Hertz patted the back of her legs. “I would not dream of degrading one of such fine pedigree. Nor will I have her rendered for meat and skin.” A silence hung over them, punctuated by drops of water hitting shallow puddles. “What I have planned is a dozen times more showy, a hundred times more painful, and a thousand times more lucrative.”

  Fresh panic spread across Marigold’s chest. It wrapped around her heart, squeezing until she thought it would burst. What if Poda had sent her to that brothel, not to service bear shifters, but to mate with dragons? Since pure-blooded she-dragons were rare, young dragons would pay Hertz a fortune to transform early. Hertz could lease her body to bachelors who wanted offspring. Her insides shuddered at the thought. What if dragon females could produce multiple eggs by multiple males? With the right magic and elixirs, Hertz might keep her laying eggs all year long!

  “Heh,” said the wolf shifter. “I suppose your venture doesn’t matter if the head of Debtor Discipline approved it. All I care about is collecting the gold you owe us.”

  “And you will receive it in due course.” The confidence in his voice made Marigold want to retch.

  They continued their swift walk down the tunnel, and Marigold considered her options. If someone raised the alarm, a dragon who knew her scent, like Berrin or Polaris might be able to track her to the tunnel. But that depended on her being wrong about Matheson. All evidence pointed towards him working with his uncle to regain his inheritance, because he had disappeared at such a convenient time.

  No one would think of searching for her underneath the palace. The Assassin’s Guild was far too mysterious to let anyone know the locations of its secret tunnels. She was hidden and powerless and completely at Hertz’ lack of mercy. Tears dribbled from the corners of her eyes into her hairline, and her throat thickened. The worst part of it all would be that she would not get a chance to say goodbye to Polaris and Berrin.

  There was only one option left: to rob the Governor of his chance to carry out his nefarious plan. She fought against the numbing agent, urging her muscles to move. It was a futile effort, as not a single nerve ending twitched. Her breath deepened with the effort, her heart pumped faster, and her pulse echoed in her ears. If the elixir holding her captive could spread to her lungs, she would die along with his last chance to repay his debt, and the Assassin’s Guild would kill him. Breathing hard, she worked on getting her eyes to twitch. Whatever happened next would be better than falling prey to Governor Hertz.

  She continued fighting, trying to hasten her own demise. With Hertz murdered by assassins, Polaris and Berrin would be free.

  “Are we going the right way for the Sigma North bus station?” asked the Governor.

  The wolf shifter chuckled. “I thought dragons had an excellent sense of direction.”

  “Not underground,” he muttered.

  Marigold ignored their conversation to focus on her efforts. She needed to stop her lungs before he took her to her destination. To save herself, for retribution to Hertz, and most importantly, for Polaris and Berrin.

  She thrashed about in the prison of her paralyzed body, picturing herself free of this ordeal. It no longer mattered that Polaris had slept with her, knowing he was betrothed to Princess Snowdrop. He had still treated her more kindly than most other males. Her breaths quickened, and her heart spasmed. At least he would move on with his betrothed. Her thoughts jumped to Berrin, her dear sweet dragon, who had loved her without hesitation or reservation.

  Tears flowed, wetting her temples and soaking the back of Governor Hertz’s silk jacket. Berrin might not cope very well, as he hadn’t even properly mourned his parents’ death. Her disappearance, or worse, the appearance of her mutilated body would break him. She tried to slow her breath, desperate to stop her self-destruction. But something wasn’t working. Her lungs constricted, closing off her air. She wheezed, wishing she had considered Berrin’s feelings before trying to kill herself. Her heart accelerated like a wild stallion, thrashing in her chest.

  The last thing she thought of before everything went black was Berrin.

  When she opened her eyes, it was to a moon-lit view of the palace roof. The building appeared sharper than she would have thought possible at night, and the pleasant, smoky scent of dragons filled her nostrils. Her breath caught, and she coughed a plume of smoke. She dropped her gaze to her feet and found they were giant dragon claws, and she was standing on the slate roof. A high-pitched screech ripped out of her throat.

  A low rumbling sounded to her right. When she turned to investigate, a dragon stared back at her with curious eyes. She ye
lped, but fire shot out of her mouth in a plume. The other dragon skittered back from the flames and observed her from a safe distance, his head tilted to one side.

  Marigold belched a cloud of smoke and raised her foreleg. It was the same dark red as the curious dragon. Why in the name of Igneous had she transformed? What had Governor Hertz done to her, and how long had she been unconscious? A terrible thought flitted through her mind: Maybe Hertz had kept her somewhere unconscious and forced to bear some dragon’s young. She shook her head, it didn’t feel as though much time had passed since the tunnel. She bared her teeth, ready to breathe fire at the other dragon in case it was Hertz.

  The other dragon’s eyes widened, and he morphed into a naked Polaris. Marigold reared back. Flames erupted from her throat. Polaris sprinted across the slate tiles to the chimney, where he snatched a sword belt and sprinted towards her, dodging her spray of dragon fire.

  Marigold’s heart lurched. Surely, he wouldn’t attack her? “It’s me,” she tried to yell, but the sound came out a series of low roars.

  The weight of his bare feet raced up the base of her tail, and she could feel him scrambling up her back towards her neck. Her head thrashed about of its own volition, and she screeched her alarm.

  “Calm down, Berrin,” he shouted. “Don’t shift back! I know what’s happening.”

  She shook her head, trying to speak, hoping he would understand that she wasn’t his brother.

  “Berrin, relax,” he shouted over her roar. “Don’t fight Marigold.”

  Her wings dropped with relief. Had she taken over Berrin’s body? How was that even possible?

  Polaris reached around, rubbing the thin scales on the front of her neck. Marigold closed her eyes and relaxed into the sensations.

  “Something dire must have happened for you to push your consciousness into Berrin’s body.”

  She bowed her head and exhaled a long gust of hot air. No one had told her that mated dragons could do such a thing. If only she could speak and tell him what had happened.

  “Has Hertz taken you?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you know where?”

  She nodded again.

  “Good.” He gave the side of her neck a gentle pat. “You’ll take me there. But first, I will teach you to fly.”

  Chapter 20

  Polaris closed his eyes and breathed hard, trying to keep his hands from shaking as he stroked the underside of Berrin’s neck. It was the most vulnerable part of a dragon’s anatomy due to its thin covering of scales, but touching it was a way to subdue a skittish comrade. He had to push aside the implications of Marigold being able to inhabit his brother’s dragon form, because they had no time to waste. Speculations about her exact species could wait. Opening his eyes, he turned his head up to the cloudless sky for inspiration. Marigold was terrified, in peril, and in possession of a body she did not know how to operate.

  Somehow, he had to keep Berrin dormant, instruct Marigold to use her new limbs, and help her to fly to wherever Uncle Hertz had spirited her away. And all without damaging the fine, slate roof of the parliament building. He sucked in a deep, fortifying breath and then said, “Berrin, don’t move or try to help Marigold. We don’t want to risk driving her out, as she might not find her way back to us again.”

  Since the dragon he was riding did not respond, Polaris interpreted that as his brother’s acquiescence. He exhaled, letting his shoulders relax. That was one issue out of the way. Now, he had to tackle the most challenging. “Marigold, can you lift your wings?”

  She raised her front legs and let out a frustrated roar.

  Polaris sighed. This action was understandable. Until a few days ago, she had never seen a dragon and probably thought their anatomy worked the same way as bats or wyverns, who used their front limbs for flying. He gave her another pat on the underside of her neck and murmured, “Try moving your shoulder blades.”

  Marigold’s wings unfurled, and she let out a gust of hot breath, which warmed his skin. The movement was hesitant, and the long, thin muscles around her wing bones twitched with the foreign motion.

  A rush of triumph surged through his chest, and he fastened the sword belt around his middle. “That’s it! Well done!”

  He was about to give her another instruction, when a door creaked open from behind. Half a dozen King’s Regiment officers rushed in through the door to the roof with their swords unsheathed. Their captain, a coal-haired dragon who he remembered being called Flicker, stopped. “General Auburn? May I ask what you’re doing?”

  Polaris cringed. Every so often, a deranged dragon, angered by a change in the law or a judge’s ruling against him, would attempt to damage a public building. He supposed his presence here looked suspicious. He considered telling the truth, but revealing that Marigold was capable of possessing another dragon would attract too much attention. This could be deadly if she happened to be an ancestor of the House of Caldor. Straightening, he addressed the other dragon. “I’m training a new protege.”

  “On a rooftop in the middle of Sigma Central, Sir?”

  “Yes, and my reasons are classified. Please leave.”

  Captain Flicker shuffled his feet. “Someone reported dragon fire, Sir. As it occurred so close to the palace, we were obliged to investigate.” He swallowed. “Seeing as it’s standard procedure.”

  “I commend you for your diligence.” Polaris waved him off. “Now that you know who caused the blast, you may return to your post. Dismissed.”

  The officers exchanged wary looks, presumably because training operations took place in the headquarters of the King’s Regiment or in specially assigned locations where dragon fire would not be an issue. Polaris’ lips thinned. He had put Captain Flicker in a difficult situation. It was his responsibility to ensure that dragons did not breathe fire within proximity to the palace, but the Captain would be reluctant to apprehend a high profile, senior officer. For several heartbeats, the entire troop stared at him, but eventually, Flicker saluted, and the officers backed out of the rooftop.

  Polaris slumped with relief. By the time Captain Flicker sent a swift to the superiors at headquarters to verify Polaris’ claims, Marigold would have learned to fly before anyone of higher rank flew over to investigate. He turned back to her. “Now that you’ve located your wings and managed to unfurl them, flying will be easy.”

  A noise of disbelief reverberated in her throat.

  “Try shrugging your shoulders.” With a sharp nod, she raised her wing bones, disturbing the air. He dredged up memories from the lessons taught to all fledglings about flight. The movements were so instinctive now that it was like trying to explain to someone in words how to walk. “Good… now sweep them down. Think of your wings as a third set of arms with long fingers.”

  She extended the claw-tipped phalanges of her wings as though she were spreading her fingers. Then, with one vertical movement, she pushed down the air in one, massive gust.

  The weight on Polaris’ chest lightened, and he let out a deep, satisfied sigh. Marigold was doing a splendid job in operating Berrin’s wings. He patted her on the side of her neck. “To fly, you’ll need to leap off the side of the building.”

  Stiffening, she let out a distressed, high-pitched screech.

  “If you fall, I’ll transform and catch you.” When she didn’t move, he added, “Berrin’s watching your every movement. He can take over if anything goes wrong, all right?”

  She shuddered but managed to nod.

  “Very good,” he said. “Now, raise your wings as you push off with your hind legs. Can you practice that?”

  It took Marigold several tries to coordinate the movements, longer than he had hoped, and Polaris had to force himself to stay calm. If the dragon beneath him was clumsy, it meant that Berrin was still dormant and Marigold was still alive and in control of his dragon form. He had heard legends of she-dragons being able to draw upon the power of their mates. However, up until now, he had dismissed them as stories fabricated to
entertain children. One tragic tale, the great ballad of Waldhar and Freya, told the story of a she-dragon spirited away by fairies. Freya had possessed her mate’s body and flown to rescue herself, but moments away from where the fairies had been holding her, Waldhar suddenly regained control of his own body, only to swoop down to find Freya slain and skinned.

  Polaris shook off the implications of the ballad and focused on guiding Marigold’s take-off movements. When he was satisfied that she had the motions right, he said, “You’re going to hold your breath, leap off the side of the tower, and pull your wings down.”

  Her head reared back, and he clenched his teeth, tamping down his rising anxiety. They had to get moving before Uncle Hertz harmed or killed her body. To distract himself from thoughts of failure, he stared down into the palace courtyard, where a carriage bolted away from the main building. Perhaps Marigold needed a little more explanation. “You won’t plummet. The fire in our blood heats our internal organs, and the hot air in our lungs has a similar effect to sky lanterns. You remember how they floated above the gardens?”

  Marigold nodded, and Polaris’ heart rate slowed. He would wait until she became comfortable with flying above Sigma Central before teaching her how to glide. The most important thing was to get her moving so they could locate her body and deal with Uncle Hertz.

  “Holding your breath will help you float. Is that understood?”

  She nodded again.

  Tension melted from his shoulders, and he murmured, “If you’re ready, we should make haste.”

  Marigold sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it in one, hot gust. The wind blew the dry air backward into Polaris’ face, and he turned his head, closing his eyes. Unlike female dragons, he was not fireproof in this form. Under his direction, she positioned her front claws over the roof’s cornice and crouched her hind legs close behind. Then, with more grace than he would expect from a young lady who had found herself in the body of a dragon, she pushed off on her hind legs, splayed her front, and raised her wings.