Wyvern's Prince

by Deborah Cooke

  “Maybe that’s just a myth.”

  Gemma continued the argument as she sought the intruder. His voice was coming from one side of the room, where a large chest of drawers was pushed against the wall. “The astrologers would argue the matter with you.”

  “The philosophers, too. I still prefer to think for myself.”

  “If not to reveal yourself.”

  He laughed. “I’m in plain sight. Maybe dragons aren’t so perceptive, after all.”

  Gemma felt her temper rising and guessed that her eyes were filled with fire. They always revealed when she was on the cusp of change. She tried to quell her reaction, knowing that the sight would remind Urbanus of her true nature. Her dragon was becoming ascendant at exactly the wrong time, thanks to this meddling individual. “Who are you and where are you? I demand that you show yourself!”

  “Shouting is a great choice,” the voice noted. “That way, Urbanus will know you aren’t alone, and we’ll both have to pay for that. Of course, he’ll probably only see you.” He sighed with forbearance. “I guess it’s true that the dragon princesses of Incendium aren’t very clever. But then, anyone who could imagine that Urbanus was her HeartKeeper must be a witless fool.”

  Gemma’s inner dragon snarled, demanding release. She composed herself with an effort, but her temper kept simmering.

  “There’s nothing saying a dragon princess can only marry her HeartKeeper.”

  “But why would someone with every advantage accept anything less?”

  Gemma wasn’t going to answer that. “Where are you? Who are you?” she asked more quietly. She kept looking, seeking some sign of the intruder, but couldn’t see him.

  “A friend, come to warn you.”

  “With friends like you, I don’t need of enemies.”

  He laughed again. “True enough.” There was something very appealing about his laughter. It was confident, a little reckless.

  Gemma wondered what he looked like.

  The Seed made her burn to know more than that. “Warn me of what?”

  “Of your husband, naturally. How much do you know about Prince Urbanus?”

  “More than enough.”

  The intruder was skeptical. “I doubt that. How long have you spent alone in his company?”

  Gemma hated that she had to admit a weakness. “Suitors of the royal princesses are closely chaperoned.”

  “No time at all then.” The voice sighed. “At best, you’ve barely scratched the surface of his nature.”

  Gemma’s interest sparked. “Do you mean that his truth is hidden?”

  “You could say that.”

  Urbanus was both HeartKeeper and Carrier of the Seed, then. Gemma couldn’t dispel her disappointment. “Then what’s your warning?”

  “Watch his hands. He hides more than the truth.”

  “Like what?” Gemma waited, but there was no reply. “That’s it?” she demanded.

  “It’s more than the warning I had,” was the grim response. “He’s coming. Don’t be stupid enough to mention me.”

  “I won’t,” Gemma had time to say, although she wasn’t sure why she made such a promise to someone hidden in her room. Could she trust him? Could she trust anyone in this place? It seemed unlikely.

  The smell of the Seed meddled with her thoughts, making her more aware of her feelings than any logic. As far as Gemma was concerned, that situation needed to end as soon as possible. She hated being at the whim of her desires and bodily urges.

  Impulse prompted to listen to strangers.

  She’d seduce Urbanus quickly.

  Her heart skipped when she heard footfalls on the other side of the adjoining door. Her unexpected companion hadn’t lied about her husband’s arrival, at least. Gemma returned to the balcony. She scooped up Felice and resumed her earlier pose. Her heart was beating a little too quickly, but she doubted that Urbanus would notice.

  Who was the intruder? Where was the intruder?

  What was Urbanus’ hidden truth?

  Did it matter, if she had the Seed from him?

  She had a sense of trickery that she couldn’t avoid. Was it because of the warning? Or was the scent of the Seed destroying her clear thinking?

  Gemma heard the door open to the adjoining suite and gripped Felice a little tighter. Quick was the way to go. Quick and passionate and finished.

  Then Urbanus would be finished.

  “Gemma?” Urbanus asked, his voice making her jump.

  “Urbanus,” she replied, ensuring that her tone was welcoming. Her dragon snarled, but Gemma smiled.

  Her new husband paused on the threshold. “What beauty in the night,” he murmured, granting her an appreciative survey. “Like a beam of moonlight made flesh.” Gemma averted her gaze, sensing that his words were insincere and not wanting him to see as much. He came to stand at the rail beside her.

  Urbanus was taller than she was and not unattractive—at a distance. He was well-proportioned, but through the sheer white chemise, she could see that he wasn’t muscled. He wasn’t fat, not yet, but he was soft.

  They wouldn’t be married long, Gemma reminded herself, much less grow old together.

  All she needed from him was the Seed.

  She could still smell it, but oddly enough it wasn’t stronger with his proximity. It had actually been more powerful in the chamber, but maybe he had spent time there, preparing the room for her.

  Gemma had to admit that was unlikely.

  Maybe the furniture had come from his own chambers.

  Watch his hands.

  Gemma considered Urbanus’ hands and found nothing remarkable about them or their pose. They were a bit paler than she might have expected, as if he spent a lot of time inside. They were also unscarred. Undoubtedly he avoided the joust and other sports that proved a man’s valor—in favor of what? Gemma didn’t know. There was a signet ring upon his right hand and the wedding band now on his left. There was a little stain beneath the nail of his index finger, perhaps from the ink from signing the registry.

  Maybe her so-called friend gave bad advice. She couldn’t see anything worthy of note about her husband’s hands.

  She tried to sound welcoming, but guessed she would sound overly formal. “There is no need for flattery, Urbanus. We are married now and have exchanged our vows before thousands of witnesses.” She thought she should warn him early, in case he liked virgins. “Even when I was a maiden, I knew what a groom was owed on a wedding night.”

  He grimaced as if to tease her. “Gemma, Gemma! Are we not both owed pleasure in the marital bed?” He stepped closer and put his arm around her waist. Gemma fought her urge to pull away. “Isn’t that the point of the lessons we endure? To ensure that we can provide pleasure to our spouse on this night of nights?”

  Had Urbanus been compelled to take formal lessons in copulation? Gemma bit back a smile. And she hadn’t endured her nights with Farquon. She’d quite enjoyed them.

  She dropped her gaze, letting him think she was shy. Her only pleasure would come from his early demise.

  Urbanus dropped his voice low. “I know our match was arranged and the terms negotiated, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be a little romance between us.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips, his eyes gleaming as he watched her. Felice’s purr sounded a little more like a growl, but Urbanus ignored the creature.

  His hand felt fleshy and cold, and Gemma barely kept from pulling her hand away. Even the Seed wasn’t helping. She had to be sure Urbanus didn’t have any suspicions! She deliberately thought of Farquon and his great thick…

  Urbanus bent and pressed a kiss against her palm. His lips were cold, too, and she fought a shiver. Gemma thought she felt a minute prick, then he folded her fingers over the spot he had touched with his lips. He held her hand captive in his left hand then, his right moving out of sight.

  Had something happened? That warning resonated in Gemma’s thoughts, even as a strange warmth surged through her. It seemed to emanate from
the point Urbanus’ lips had touched, which made little sense to Gemma. It made even less sense how she felt less resistant to the notion of their coupling.

  She even felt more amorous.

  Farquon seemed suddenly inadequate in comparison to her lord husband.

  Gemma blinked. What had just happened?

  Urbanus was watching her closely, more closely than she might have expected. Could he read her thoughts? No, no, it was Troy who was a MindBender. Urbanus was simply a royal prince.

  Simply? The echo of doubt was dismissed so quickly that she might not have had it.

  Gemma was a dragon shifter. The beast within stirred, and her passion surged. How strange that a kiss from Urbanus should provoke her passion. She tried to pull her hand back and open it, to look at the spot he’d kissed, but Urbanus held it within his own so resolutely that she abandoned the struggle. She didn’t want him to think her reluctant.

  “There are those who find love in arranged marriages,” he said, his voice awakening a vibration within her. He drew her into his arms and Gemma let him. Oddly, his body felt good against hers, exciting even, and she felt her nipples bead. She forgot his chilliness, given the fire within her. Heat slipped through her veins, feeding her anticipation of their union, making her wet and ready.

  It must be the Seed, calling to her body, awakening its destiny.

  “Even happiness.” His lips touched her shoulder then and his one hand slid to her shoulder. She felt another prick and another wave of desire, the heat doubling within her.

  She tried to pull away but Urbanus trapped her between his hips and the railing. His lips trailed along her bare shoulder to touch her throat, even as he unbound her hair.

  “Not both love and happiness?” she asked, and her voice sounded husky even to herself.

  “They don’t necessarily go together.” Urbanus kissed her ear and Gemma was certain she had never felt such pleasure. Despite the fury in Felice’s expression, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, welcoming her new husband’s touch. She felt his tongue, then his breath in her ear. “I loved my brother Canto but he didn’t make me happy.”

  Gemma supposed it was inevitable that they talk about the situation that had brought them together. In a way, she respected that Urbanus didn’t skirt around the fact that her sister had killed his brother. All the same, she didn’t know how best to reply.

  In fact, she was having a difficult time keeping her thoughts on anything other than his caress. The Seed was more potent than she’d ever imagined. She should have been warned!

  His hands rose to cup her breasts then, his thumbs toying with the nipples even though the cloth. Gemma heard herself make a sound suspiciously like a growl, and Urbanus chuckled as he drew her away from the railing. Felice leaped down in disgust but for once Gemma didn’t pay any attention to her pet.

  “Beautiful ceremony today,” Urbanus whispered. He pulled her against him and she felt his erection against her belly. She yearned for his strength inside her as he captured her lips in a seductive kiss. Every reservation within her melted as he locked his mouth over hers and cajoled her to join him, using his tongue, his teeth, and his lips. Gemma felt as if her blood was on fire. She gripped his shoulders, then clutched at his hair, opening her mouth to him in surrender. He kissed her thoroughly, then broke the embrace with obvious regret, smiling down at her with sparkling eyes. “Your parents did a fine job with it.”

  For a moment, Gemma didn’t know what he meant. Her mind was filled with thoughts of coupling and kissing, of the two of them sating each other and wasting no effort upon mere words.

  “The wedding,” he prompted.

  “I believe your mother contributed to its success, as well.”

  “No doubt she did,” he said, with an interesting tinge of bitterness. “But it’s typical, isn’t it?” Urbanus cupped her nape in his hand, tipped her head back, and kissed her beneath her chin. His lips burned a trail toward her nipple, which he teased with lips and tongue and teeth until Gemma wanted to moan aloud.

  When had she burned with such need?

  The Seed must amplify normal urges.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, dismissive of conversation. Before Urbanus could reply, Gemma framed his face in her hands, backed him into the wall and kissed him with savage force. Her new spouse, instead of being appalled, met her touch for touch. He seized her buttocks and lifted her against him. Their kiss was passionate and hungry, and Gemma could feel the leap of his pulse beneath her fingertips, even as her own raced. His hands were under her shift, her knees were rising to his waist, their mouths were locked together in passionate fury.

  Felice meowed with apparent disapproval but Gemma didn’t care. She wanted the Seed and she wanted it immediately.

  Chapter Two

  It was Urbanus who locked his hands around Gemma’s waist and broke their kiss, putting distance between them. His eyes were sparkling and his breath came as quickly as Gemma’s. She might have protested his move, but he put a finger on her lips.

  “Don’t you?”

  Once again, Gemma had a hard time recalling the thread of the conversation. Her body burned for satisfaction, the Seed demanded to be planted, and she was impatient with Urbanus and his need to chatter. She tried to kiss him again but he evaded her.

  She gave serious consideration to shifting shape, toasting him into submission, then having her way with him.

  But it would be rude.

  And it would put him on his guard, when she needed him to relax.

  “I think you do understand, but you’re not sure that I would share your view. Let’s have honesty between us, Gemma. I think you believe that we have very little in common, but I know you’re wrong.”

  Gemma was intrigued. “Do you?” she asked, then reached for his erection. He caught his breath when she closed her hand around his strength, and she watched his nostrils pinch in pleasure.

  “I do,” he said, a most enticing strain in his voice, then lifted her hand away. “And I’ll prove it to you.”

  “Does it have to be now?”

  Urbanus laughed. “Yes, but I’ll be quick, my lustful bride.” He reached for the tie at the front of her gown, and unfastened it deliberately as he spoke. “I think it’s typical that you and I are left to clean up the messes created by our older siblings. It’s the fate of the second child.”

  He opened her gown and smiled at her bared breasts, then placed his hands beneath the sheer garment and pushed it over her shoulders. This was progress. Gemma tipped her head back at the feel of his palms on her skin and shook her shoulders so that the gown fell to the ground. Urbanus made a murmur of satisfaction when she was nude before him, and his hands fell to her breasts. He kneaded the nipples between finger and thumb, making Gemma twitch with need. She reached for the tie of his chemise, making quick work of the knot.

  “We’re never seen to be as special or wonderful or praiseworthy as the first-born, no matter what our older sibling might do. And when that sibling fails—as Canto and Drakina did fail to secure the alliance between our two kingdoms—then the obligation to make it all come right falls to us. The second born.”

  Gemma only let him talk because it was clear he meant to have his say before she had her satisfaction. Her mind was filled with need, and she would do whatever was necessary to urge him toward their mutual pleasure.

  She pushed his chemise over his shoulders, sparing a glance to his nudity. Why had she thought there was anything wrong with softness? “You didn’t have to marry one of Incendium’s princesses,” she said, pressing a kiss to his nipple. His hands closed around her waist and he lifted her against him.

  Urbanus laughed. “You don’t know my mother well, do you?” He bent, his words intent as he murmured into her ear. She was more interested in his erection and how she might coax it to be closer to the size of Farquon’s most impressive member. “But understand, Gemma, that when it was made clear to me that I should do so, I didn’t choose you because yo
u were next in the lineage.” He claimed her chin and compelled her to meet his gaze. “I chose you specifically because we are the same.”

  His eyes were a thousand hues of blue, more marvelous to behold than she had realized. His gaze was filled with a surety that echoed the conviction in her own soul. He must be right. They were the same. They were destined to be together because they had been made for each other. How had Gemma ever doubted the allure of her spouse?

  Urbanus watched as he traced a line on her cheek with his fingertip. “We’re both unafraid to do what has to be done, Gemma.”

  That was true enough.

  “We’re both bold enough to act for the greater good.”

  Gemma’s growing sense that she and Urbanus had a great deal in common was unassailable. It was truth. Their bond was right. Warmth flooded through her from her heart, an overwhelming sense that destiny had been fulfilled.

  The Seed called.

  Gemma itched to have it within her.

  Urbanus really should shut up.

  But he kept talking. “You’re here not just because your father negotiated the marriage, but because a royal astrologer declared that I am the Carrier of the Seed.” Urbanus arched a brow and she was awed that he alone should have discerned the truth. “Am I not right?”

  “You know you are.”

  “So, it’s fated to be,” he said and kissed her lingeringly once again. “It’s our destiny and our choice to save our kingdoms with a union and a son.”

  “Except that there’s Gravitas now,” Gemma said, reminding her of Drakina’s son and the heir to the crown of Incendium.

  Urbanus chuckled, his fingers sliding into her hair, his possessive grip making her shiver. “You’ve been listening to a MindBender,” he accused, solemnity lurking beneath his playful tone. “I thought you would know better than to be so beguiled, Gemma.”

  Beguiled.

  Yes. That’s what she felt. The realization flitted through her thoughts, along with the reminder of that warning. Gemma recalled those two little pricks and the sensation they had sent through her. Kraw had said that Urbanus dealt in spells, herbal mixtures that provoked a physiological reaction in the victim. Then she felt a third prick, one on the back of her neck. She opened her eyes even as fire flowed through her veins and her body capitulated to Urbanus and his amorous assault.