Verde ate with gusto. *Wild meat tastes better than meat from tame animals.*
The Old One chuckled. *When a dragon is hungry all meat tastes delicious. The chase and the kill stirred your hunger and some distant memories.*
*What memories? This is only the second time I have tasted wild meat.*
*Not memories of events in your life, but ones rising from our ancestors. Once dragons lived apart from men and hunted for their food.*
*Were those times better than now?*
The Old One finished his share of the meat. He moved to his wallow and rested his head on his forelegs. *No better or worse, only different. Some of the times were good. Others, bad. Dragons died for lack of food. In those times dragonets were hunted by their kind. Stands of fyrethorns were torn apart for their thorns and berries. Yet dragons were free and lineages banded together against other lineages. The wizards grew strong and sought dragons for their skins.*
*Then I like this time and place better.* Verde stripped the last shred of meat from a thigh bone and cracked it for the marrow. *I like having Arana for my speaker. She and Drakon will stop the evil one.*
The Old One rose. *They are speakers in the way of days long past.* He sighed. *Enough talk about what has been. Here is your lesson for today. I have told Drakon how the dragonets must be fed to hasten their growth. We have told Arana, but she resists. If you speak to her, she will accept. What she hears from us makes her think she took poor care of you.*
*She took good care. I will tell her.*
*Indeed she did. She had no knowledge of dragonets, only what she heard from the evil one and the captive speakers about the care of dragons. She fed you properly, though at times your meals were odd. She also learned how to attend to injured dragons.*
*I know.*
*How did she know green dragonets must be fed thorns and berries with each feeding?”
Verde thought back to his early days when Arana had spoken to him. *Because I was neither red nor blue, she decided I should have both.*
*She has good thoughts,* the Old One said. *The blue and red dragonets must be fed in this way. For the first seven days, thorns and berries must be alternated. In the second period, blues need two feedings of thorns to one of berries. The reverse for the reds. The third seven days the feedings are three and one. Then the additives just once a day after a flight. Then they must have both.*
Verde repeated the Old One’s instructions. *Though Arana did not know she did right for me, but her way would not have been right for the ones to come. Sometimes there was no meat and she fed me things like fruit and bread. I like them.*
*She did all she could. I also have a taste for things other than meat. But greens are different. She will learn, and so will you.* The Old One chuckled. *When the dragonets fly you will lead them.*
Verde groaned. *There is much to learn. What if the dragonets will not heed me? The dragons at Sea Cliff ignored me.*
*The dragonets will listen. So will the other dragons once you master the ways of the controller. This is one of the duties of a green with other dragons. Your ties to the dragons at Sea Cliff were established after they were adults. Though distantly related, they are not in your direct lineage. They will come to know you are my successor.*
*Will that make them listen to my commands?*
*Yes. Though their speakers may not want them to hear and speak to you, they will. When the other greens hatch, you will teach them.*
*Why did you fail to control the dragons when the evil one came to High Peaks?*
*At the time of the invasion there was a green at Sea Cliff. The evil one was his speaker. As soon as the evil one learned the lord and his sons were dead, that green was killed. The High Peaks blues were in a panic. The death of my fellow and the speakers sent me into shock. When I climbed from the abyss it was too late to do anything.*
*What happened to that green after his death?*
*His pelt was sold to the wizards. Every day you must seek the reds at Sea Cliff.*
*And alert the evil one?*
*The reds there do not have speakers. As long as you listen without speaking, you will be safe.*
* * *
Once they delivered the butchered deer to the dragons, Drakon followed Radlan back to the tower. He looked at the stacks on the table. A bark of laughter erupted. “Sofona, do you plan to move the contents of the storeroom into the cavern. How long do you think Arana and I will have to stay?”
“Three weeks or more. Until the dragonets speak and their demands for food become the same as the adults. Radlan and I must remain outside the cavern for that time so our presence doesn’t interfere with the bonding. We will bring your meals and the food for them to the cavern entrance. You and Arana will need to care for Verde and the Old One, as well as the dragonets.”
Radlan pointed to the toweling. “When your second brother and his wife-to-be bonded with their pair he was disgusted by the mess made by mixing the meat and of feeding the dragonets. He bathed after every feeding.”
Drakon loaded the toweling into a large sack. Radlan put a jar of soap and one of oil in a basket. “Surely there are enough supplies for a month,” Drakon said.
Sofona chuckled. “When you and Arana fetch the feedings, leave your dirty clothes outside the cavern. We will return them clean. Take care not to mess the coverings for the sleep pads. There are but two for each and I haven’t time to make others.”
Once all the stores were in the cavern Radlan slapped Drakon’s shoulder. “May your blue be eager to fly.”
Sofona handed him a basket. “Your midday and evening meal.”
Drakon entered the cavern and set the basket on an elevated flat stone. He walked to the eggs and ran his hand over the surface of the blue. Vibrations pulsed against his skin. *Old One, should I help the dragonet?*
*No. The dragonet must free himself. Make sure the first two feedings for the pair are ready. Then treat two barrels. One with thorns and the other with berries. Once the eggs hatch, there will be little time for anything but caring for them. When there were more speakers, the chores could be shared, but the presence of non-speakers confuses the dragonets.*
Drakon saw the look in Arana’s eyes and knew she spoke to Verde.
She turned. “You and the Old One were right, but I don’t understand why they must be fed this way.”
The Old One’s voice sounded. *Thorns have in them what changes a dragon’s bones to make flight possible. After a flight, a red needs thorns to replenish what was used. The essence of the thorns give blues their coloration. The berries open and maintain the speaker’s path and give the red their color. To keep the paths open the blues must be fed berries twice a month.*
Drakon opened the basket Sofona had given him. While he and Arana reviewed the feeding schedule they feasted on roast fowl, tubers baked and topped with cheese, and dried fruit tarts. “Did Verde tell you what to do when the egg hatches?” Drakon asked.
Arana laughed. “I remember too well. Stuff the hatchling until she can eat no more.” She drained her mug of ale.
Drakon ate a second tart. He looked up and saw Verde creeping toward them. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s begging. He likes bread and fruit.” She rose and carried her second tart to the green.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving him a treat.”
Drakon shook his head. He rose and went to the cold room and returned with two barrels of meat. Radlan appeared at the entrance of the cavern. He pushed a barrow inside.
“How much meat do you plan to chop?” Drakon asked.
“One barrel has the remainder of the deer. The other is for the dragonets. A second snowfall has begun, and I’m not sure when we’ll arrive in the morning.”
Drakon waved to Arana. “Help me put these in the cold room. We should have enough to last until morning.”
They wheeled the barrow to the cold room. After unloading it, Drakon pushed the barrow to the tower. Snow fell in a steady stream
and by the time he returned to the cavern, the forecourt was covered.
Arana stood at one of the mortars. She added the berries she had crushed to the meat in one of the barrels. She laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Drakon asked.
“Verde thinks I smell tasty.”
The green dragon lowered his head to sniff Drakon. *You smell good, too,*
Drakon chuckled. *You cannot have a taste of me. Why would you want to eat us?*
*I do not wish to taste you, or Arana. There will be deer meat in the morning. I saw Radlan bring the barrel.*
*How are the eggs?*
*Taking more time than I thought. I will lick them again in hopes of speeding the dragonets arrival.*
Drakon turned to Arana. “I’m going to the pool.” He dropped his tunic on the ground.
Arana pointed to a basket. “I am not Sofona to pick up after you. Dirty clothes go in there. Do not toss them about like you do in your chamber. You could end up naked after the hungry dragonets eat your clothes.”
He stooped and picked up the shirt. He dropped it and his breeches in the basket.
Arana pulled off her clothes. She picked up a stack of drying towels and the jar of soap. She carried them to the ledge and slipped into the water.
Drakon stared at Arana and felt his body stir. As the conditioning of the priestesses claimed his attention, his gaze turned from Arana. He saw Verde and the Old One settle on the sand near the eggs. He waded into the water.
Across the pool, Arana stood where the stream flowed over the falls. She resembled one of the fabled mountain nymphs. He felt her call. Memories of the last time they’d bathed filled his thoughts. She had washed his back. He had caressed her. She had returned the touches. Then memories of his treatment in the temple had arisen and forced him to flee.
Torn between temptation and taboo he groaned. He dove deep and surfaced near the falls. Arana was gone. He felt a brush on his left. She emerged just inches from him. He backed until the stones of the ledge jabbed his skin.
Arana grasped his wrist. “Stay.”
Her breasts brushed his chest. The nipples tightened and seemed to enlarge. Drakon gulped a breath. Though he tried to tamp his body’s reaction to her nearness, he failed. He couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. He regretted his inability to act. The brush of her skin against his brought an agonizing ache to his groin. Her mouth found his and her tongue probed his lips and slid over his teeth. Her arms encircled his neck.
Drakon surrendered to her need. He grasped Arana’s hips and drew her closer. Spray from the waterfall covered his back.
Arana shifted her position and moved so his phala slid between her legs. She raised her head and placed her hands on his shoulders. As she slid back and forth on him, he heard her sigh, then moan with increasing intensity.
Never before had he felt this urgent need to be inside a woman and thrust until she exploded. Forbidden. The word shouted in his thoughts. Hands and mouth were allowed to touch a woman’s body to bring her pleasure until she screamed with release. Before he left Arana, he had to finish what she had begun.
He lifted her to the ledge and buried his head between her wide-spread legs. He used his tongue to stroke and explore her nether lips. He sucked on her pleasure node. The sounds she trilled were his reward. Her body undulated. She writhed and arched. Her climax caused him to increase the tempo and pressure of his tongue. When he felt her stiffen, he sucked the node into his mouth. Her wild cries brought a sense of pride. None of the priestesses had made him feel such a rush of accomplishment.
“Drakon, come to me,” she crooned. “Fill me.”
He raised his head. His phala throbbed. The pulses of desire thumped in his head. Would she say the words he needed to hear, the words to trigger his release? She sat up and reached for him. He groaned. “Arana, help me.”
She slid into the water and pressed her body to his. She stroked his phala. He shuddered and moved away. Yearning became fear. He tensed in anticipation of the punishment he deserved.
“Let me do for you what you did for me,” Arana said.
Drakon’s breath came in short, gasping pants. Those weren’t the proper words. Her touch turned pleasure into agony. Memories cascaded. “Help me. Let me release my seed. Say the words.” He hated the pleading ton of his voice. Some strange emotion filled her eyes and he feared pity was what she felt.
“Why do you beg for what you can take?”
“You don’t understand.”
“I am willing, no eager, for your release.” Her green eyes glowed with passion.
What did she mean? He pushed her hands away and grasped himself. He pumped several times. His seed shot into the water. Drakon leaned against the side of the pool and gasped for breath. As soon as the heaving stopped, he pulled himself from the water. He had to get away. He couldn’t face her pity.
Chapter Six
Drakon’s reaction and his abrupt departure from the pool puzzled Arana. Had she said or done something to trigger his memories of his treatment in the temple? The pleasure she felt vanished. Why hadn’t he accepted the gift she offered? She pulled herself onto the ledge and wrapped a piece of toweling around her body, taking care to cover her breasts. As she walked the stone path to the sleeping cots she saw Drakon was dressed. He sat beside the blue egg.
*Patience.* The Old One’s word of caution made her sigh. She had no choice other than to follow his advice.
She dressed and dropped the toweling in the basket with the dirty clothes. She stooped to pick up the towel Drakon dropped just inches from the basket. Though she wanted to ask him what had gone wrong, she held the words inside. Her attention focused on the way the red egg rocked.
As she stared at the shell she noticed the hairline cracks had widened. She pressed her hands on the shell and felt the movements of the dragonet. Though she wanted to help, she knew the creature must free herself. When Verde had struggled to emerge she experienced the same urge, but had refrained. Her thoughts drifted to that night and how she had crept from the slave quarters to hide in his pen. Once the fine lines had begun to widen the hatching had taken less than an hour.
*I was not as slow as these ones,* Verde said.
Arana laughed. *I was remembering that night and how long it seemed to me. Waiting always seems long.*
*Each dragon appears in its own time,* the Old One said.
Verde sighed. *I am tired of waiting.*
His plaintive wail made Arana smile. *They will hatch soon.” She stroked the shell. *Come, red one. Rise from the shell. I will feed and care for you.* She glanced at Drakon. He rocked back and forth crooning a wordless melody.
Her thoughts slid into memories of the pool and the sensual pleasure Drakon had given her. Why did he deny the sensations his body craved? She’d felt his phala, hard, thick, and throbbing for release. She had been ready and eager to receive him. He made her forget Lagon’s brutal kisses and touches. Drakon’s hands and mouth sent her soaring. Why wouldn’t he allow her to give him the same release and help him forget what the priestesses had done to him?
*Again, I say patience,* the Old One said. *Waiting will make the time of union a sweet celebration.*
Arana laughed. Advice from the Old One who would never experience the kind of pleasure she had felt seemed odd.
*Just because I do not mate does not mean I do not feel the pleasure of the red and blue when I control a mating flight. You and Drakon will know unity one day.*
Arana prayed he was right. She raised her head. Drakon’s intent study of the blue egg made her hope one day he would look at her with his heart in his gaze. Years ago he had been named a misfit, one unable to tolerate the tea and thus be unable to speak to a dragon. Lagon had come. Drakon had been taken from his home and family and sold as a slave. The priestesses had treated him ill.
Arana sighed. Would he ever know how deeply she cared for him? He had been her friend. In the days of their childhood, he’d never teased her or treated her like a slave. Wo
uld he ever overcome the conditioning of the priestesses so he could move past friendship into love?
She frowned. He had begged for her permission and she said yes. Then he’d wasted his seed. Didn’t he want heirs? Was he afraid to claim her as his own?
“Drakon.”
He looked up and smiled. “The hatching will be soon.”
She tabled the question she’d been about to ask. This wasn’t the time to speak of the future. She placed her hands on the surface of the red egg and sent words of encouragement to the dragonet. The crack widened. Drakon was right. The hatching was eminent.
A glance toward Drakon and she became entranced. The blue egg rocked. Then the red egg moved. She tried to control her breaths to measure the time between the movements.
A laugh startled her. She looked up. The blue egg shattered. Drakon captured the pale blue creature and carried the dragonet to the feeding troughs. The blue was the size of a sheep. From her experience with Verde she knew how fast a dragonet grew and how much one ate. In a week the size would double four times. By the end of the third week the dragonet would be almost full grown.
A jab on her leg made her attention return to the red egg. The hatchling chirruped. Arana knelt and stroked the creature’s head. “Roja, welcome.” She lifted the dragonet and lugged her to the feeding troughs. She lifted a piece of meat and shoved it into the open maw.
As the red swallowed chunk after chunk her dark eyes captured Arana’s gaze. She sent thoughts of love and praise but the speaking path remained closed.
*Old One, when will she hear and speak?* Arana asked.
*Perhaps as soon as the end of the first week. By two weeks from the shell she will speak clearly.*
Verde waddled over to inspect the pair. *I heard and spoke sooner.*
*Yes, you did.*
*The speaker’s path of a green dragon opens by the end of the first day,* the Old One said. *The others take longer.*
Verde sniffed one dragonet and then the other. *They are very small.*
Dragons of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 2) Page 9
