She knew her face was red, for it burned as if it were on fire. Kitrina quickly glanced around the hall. Not a single person was talking, and everyone was staring…at her…waiting. Her father looked ready to commit murder, and her mother looked ready to cry. Zander, just looked…guilty.
Uncle Leeky finally broke the silence. “What the three-peckered, one-legged, two-toed ogre who’s been trying ta buy a piece of tainted tail off a halfling harlot are ya talking about, lass? Of course, she knows it was nothing but a pity fuck. That’s the way she planned it. Everybody knows Zander’s next in line ta the throne and has no choice but ta marry a pure-blood barbarian lass. Even if’n the chit is a nasty piece of work.”
Kitrina couldn’t take her eyes off of Zander. It all made sense. She’d thought his initial attempt to reject her parents’ request to be her deflowerer was just for show. She’d thought he hadn’t wanted to appear overly anxious. She could see the truth of it now as he broke eye contact with her and gazed at the floor. What had meant more than the world to her really had been nothing more to him than a pity fuck. She wanted to run, she wanted to die, but Uncle Leeky just kept talking and wouldn’t shut up.
“What safer choice could the lass have made? This way, the job’s done right and by someone she trusts. And she doesn’t have ta worry about sticky old mushy feelings like love and such. Our Kit’s a right smart lass, she is.”
Ray decided to add his own opinion to the situation as he began jumping up and down and yelling at the top of his lungs “Ray loves cock. Ray loves cock! Ray loves cock” before dropping his orange knobby dildo at her feet.
Kitrina couldn’t breathe as she turned away from the room. She needed desperately to escape before she embarrassed herself and her family further. Slowly, she made her way across the great hall, and not a single person attempted to stop her. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone, and she didn’t say a word, but the moment she reached the hallway leading to her own chamber, she broke into a run.
She didn’t miss the sound of footsteps following her or Zander yelling her name, but she didn’t stop. She slammed the door to her room firmly behind herself, shutting out the rest of the world, and escaped into the one place she always went when upset or simply needing to be alone. Kitrina morphed into Cat, a black house cat.
A moment later, Zander flung the door open wide, and Cat scooted between his feet. It darted down the hallway, between the open doors, and out into the night air.
She had loved and worshiped him with all the hopes and dreams an eighteen-year-old heart could hold, and when she’d asked the most important thing in all of Albrath of him, he’d done what she’d asked and done it wonderfully. But he didn’t love her. He never had, and he never would. She’d made a fool of herself, and she’d done so in front of every single person who knew her and even some who didn’t. She’d embarrassed her family, she’d embarrassed herself, and worst of all, she’d embarrassed Zander.
Kitrina made her way to the fountain in the center of the garden. The one with the large bronze warrior who had stood silently for centuries, watching over Castle Kuropkat. She always came here when she needed to think or when she needed to cry.
Tonight, she wept.
Slowly, she morphed back, and the cat once more became the young woman. Perched on the fountain ledge, she hugged her arms about her knees and drew them in close to her body. Her mind screamed, “Sid!”
Before she took another breath, the huge black dragon landed silently at her feet. “You have need of me, my lady?” His voiced rumbled deep into the recesses of her mind.
Kitrina nodded and climbed onto the back of the majestic creature who’d been her friend and protector from the moment she’d been born. She looped her arms about his neck and laid her tear-streaked cheek against the coolness of his midnight black scales.
“Take me away from here, Obsidian. Far away. Please.”
Lightning streaked across an angry, dark, cloud-filled sky, and Kitrina flinched in response. Still, she urged Sid upward and away.
It didn’t matter that Zander was obviously upset and was at this very moment unleashing his normally pent-up spiritmaster powers upon the skies. It didn’t matter that thunder crashed so close it almost unseated her. And it didn’t matter that wind blew violently, whipping her hair across her face and into her eyes, stinging them and blinding her. It certainly didn’t matter that rain fell in a deluge, sheets of water soaking her, chilling her to the bone, and further obscuring her vision. No, nothing mattered anymore, and as far as she was concerned, it never would again.
Up into the night sky, Kitrina and her dragon flew.
Chapter Two
Three years. It had been three very long years since the fateful night of Kitrina’s deflowering. And three long years since he’d last stepped foot onto the grounds of Castle Kuropkat.
Zander had no idea why on Albrath he’d been summoned here today, but he had, and as duty demanded, he’d come.
Not that this was his first attempt to contact the stubborn female. Hadn’t he tried on more occasions than he cared to count to make right the wrong Kitrina thought he’d done her? He’d even run after her that very night, determined to explain. But did he get the chance? Would she even grant him an audience? No, she’d hidden herself away from him, and the stupid cat was all he’d ever found in her place.
He’d even sat there on her bed that night, for more than a turning of the hourglass pleading for her to show herself. The very same bed they’d made such sweet love on a short time before. She refused to come out, and she hadn’t made a sound.
All of his attempts after that night had been met with the same scornful silence. Not even bribing his sister, Mia, to plead his case had helped.
In the end, Kit had adamantly refused to see or speak to him. He should probably be glad she’d shut him out of her life. Women, such emotional, unreasonable creatures…the world would be a better place without the lot of them most days.
So why today? There was no doubt in Zander’s mind the summons hadn’t come from Kitrina. She hated him. So who then, and for what reason? Kitrina’s middle sister, Lara, was probably close to fifteen now, but if the Dragonhearts thought for a moment he would perform another deflowering, then, boy, were they in for a surprise. Taking one virginity had been more than enough to last Zander a lifetime. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t survive a second.
The huge double doors of the castle stood ajar, and the moment he stepped through them, a servant silently escorted him down a flight of stairs and into a room Zander had never been.
Candles burned in sconces along the wall illuminating the recesses. The only furnishing in the entire area was an oblong table so big it took up the majority of the space. Around it sat at least a dozen chairs with all but two occupied.
At the head of the table was Uthiel Dragonheart, with his wife, Briar, to his left. To his right, stood one empty chair, and next to it were Zander’s parents, barbarian King Adan Hammerstrike and Queen Lizbeth. Then Leeky Shortz and his son, Pierced.
Beside Briar, sat Sarco Sunwalker, lord of the elves, and his lady, Lark, who was Zander’s father’s sister, and therefore his aunt. Next to her were their twenty-three-year-old twin sons, Graydon and Gareth.
From the looks on all of their faces, this was no meeting about deflowering. Something serious had or was about to happen.
Zander’s heart skipped a beat, and his breath caught in his chest. Kitrina? What trouble had the lovely, obstinate woman gotten herself into this time?
There were only two seats left, one beside his parents and the one at the far end of the table, so Zander quickly took the one between his father and Uthiel Dragonheart.
The leader of the Paladins of Albrath and the sworn protector of dragons cleared his throat. “Kitrina has been sent for and should arrive momentarily. Please bear with us. We only have time to go over this once before decisions must be made and strategies discussed.”
A moment later, if Zander hadn’t been fa
cing the doorway and watching for her, he wouldn’t have known Kitrina had even arrived. She didn’t make a sound, not even a whisper, as she entered the room and took the last remaining seat.
God Draka, she was so beautiful it hurt his eyes to gaze upon her. Even more beautiful, if that were possible, than when she’d been but eighteen.
Twenty-one now, the woman who’d entered as silently as a ghost held him just as enthralled as she always had. But gone was the long black hair of her teen years, and in its place were short, sexy, spiky tresses. If possible, her lips were even fuller, her eyes even bluer, and the curves displayed beneath the fabric of her tunic and the cut of her leather breeks even more lush.
Though she didn’t glance his way, he wanted to reach out and touch her. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, hold her, kiss her, take her away, and ravish her.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the sight of her, the smell of her, the sound of her breathing. His cock hardened and Zander was glad, very glad, he was sitting down.
****
Kitrina schooled her features. What on Albrath was Zander Hammerstrike, of all people, doing here? But then, why were most of these people here? When she’d been summoned to a family meeting, there’d been no mention it would include people not directly related and certainly not Zander Hammerstrike.
She stole a glance at him from beneath her lashes, and her heart pounded. He was still mind-numbingly masculine, and so very, very handsome. She raised her gaze a fraction. There was something about his eyes that was different, though, older perhaps, wiser, sadder?
There was no time to ponder Zander or her reaction to him, however, as the deep rumble of her father’s voice flowed throughout the room.
“Leeky, most of us know how special you are, but not all, especially not our children. Perhaps the discussion of what we now face should begin with you.”
The gnome nodded and made a production of slipping off his lime green, going-ta-meeting-gloves as he held up a single finger.
“Ya see this?” The gnome slowly stripped off an overly large, dirty-looking bandage and revealed the tiniest of cuts. “What the stiff jock-straps and stained panties tossed willy-nilly in the corner at an all-night dwarf dandy convention do ya make of this, lass and laddies? Cut myself yesterday, and it-it-it bled.” He held up more fingers. “At least four drops, and it hurt like the dickens. Knew right away I had ta call a meeting.”
Kitrina chuckled. “Seriously, Uncle Leeky? You had us summoned because of a paper cut?”
Leeky Shortz looked at her as if she were a simpleton he’d have to speak slowly to. “I bled! I’m not supposed ta bleed. I’m immortal, lass. At least, I was immortal. Pretty sure I’m not anymore, and since I’m no longer immortal, you, our little Kitten, are in danger.”
Kitrina schooled her reaction, not allowing her face to give any indication his words had affected her in any way. They had, though. The stone nestled between her breasts warmed to an uncomfortable heat. She was about to casually ask Leeky what he meant by making such a ridiculous statement when her father, Uthiel Dragonheart, intervened.
“Leeky, our children haven’t been told about your role in the war. They have no idea why Kitrina might be in danger. Perhaps it would be best if you started at the very beginning.”
Leeky sighed. “A little over nine hundred years ago, during the war between the barbarians and the elves, right here at Castle Kuropkat, mind ya, I was one of the four top commanders.”
A cough and the distinct sound of Pierced mumbling “Bullshit” into his hand broke Leeky’s concentration for a moment. He glared at his son.
“What the too-tight trousers on the ample arse of an overweight, freckle-faced, troll trollop doing her shopping in the market square at midday is wrong with ya, Pierced? You’ve heard this story before. If I didn’t know better, and if ya didn’t look so much like me, or at least ya used ta before ya took ta wearing makeup, I’d think yare mother used tainted sperm ta get herself pregnant with ya. How many times do I have ta tell ya it’s not polite ta interrupt a gnome when he’s storytelling? Everybody knows gnomes don’t normally live over nine hundred years, but this is my story. Let me be telling it in peace.”
Kitrina couldn’t help but smile as the black-haired, snow-white-skinned, black-lipped, Goth-looking Pierced Shortz slumped in his seat but shut his mouth.
Leeky began again. “I’ve often been questioned about my ability ta be at that battle so long ago because although gnomes do have a fairly long life span, it isn’t that long. I’ll tell ya now. It’s only because of Sarco’s Great Uncle Arizon, God Draka rest his soul…finally, that I’m still here today.
Kitrina glanced at Sarco, lord of the high-elves, leader of Landis, and retired wizard instructor for the Academy of Magical Arts. The tall dark-haired man with crisply pointed ears and a ready smile had always been a part of her life. Though not related by blood, Sarco had been as much of an uncle to her as her mother’s five brothers. He was one of her father’s best friends in all of Albrath, and his wife Lark was like an aunt and the sister her mother had never had.
Kitrina was so lost in her own memories, she startled as Leeky’s voice drew her back into the story.
“That fateful last day of battle, after Arizon made all his declarations concerning the barbarians and elves, humans, dragons, and such, he turned and pointed ta us four commanders, two on each side, and spoke the words I’ve no doubt still haunt all of us ta this day. I know they do me.”
Tears filled the gnome’s eyes. “‘Ya four, who’ve led others ta their graves but have cheated death of its sting, will know no eternal sleep of your own. Until the day every trace of blood has been washed clean from the land and every scar is gone from the landscape. Until the last tear has been shed for a life lost ta soon and every stone upturned has been put back in place, ya will walk this world and find no rest.
“‘When this has all come ta pass, then and only then will ya be mortal again. When death does take ya, the sting of it will be as painful as if ya had died a thousand times before and forever will ya reside in the Valley of Torment. Only the one who holds the Stone of Anthion in his heart will escape death’s wrath, be forgiven his sins, and walk victoriously through the gates of the gods.’”
He turned toward Kitrina and laid his pudgy little hand upon hers. “No one knows for sure where the Stone of Anthion lies, lass. Your Da gave me a piece of rock he thought was from the wall a few years back. Ta this day, ya aunt Laycee wears it around her neck on a chain. Uthiel thought it was one of those upturned stones Arizon spoke of, ya see? And as long as it didn’t get put back inta the castle wall, me and the other three commanders would stay immortal forever. There’d be no need for anyone ta ever search for the Stone of Anthion.”
His voice became no more than a whisper, and a single tear escaped his overly large gnome eyes. “But that was before yesterday, lass. All of what Arizon prophesized must have come ta pass, because I stand here before ya today mortal. And if I’m mortal, they’re mortal. And if they’re mortal, they’ll come looking for ya.”
Her hand flew to the stone attached to a thin throng of leather resting beneath her tunic. The heat of it comforted her soul as it always had. Slowly, she drew out the gemstone, her hand cradling the opalescent object as if it were more precious than her very life.
Kitrina held it out for all to see. “I still don’t understand why. I don’t have the Stone of Anthion. I only possess what is rightfully mine, the Dragon Heart Opal.”
Leeky nodded. “I know, lass, but there are those who believe the two are one and the same.”
Her only response was “Oh,” but the rest of the room broke out into a heated discussion.
****
He didn’t say a word. After all, what was there to say at this point? The air around Zander became uncomfortably thin, and his heart raced in his chest. If the Dragon Heart Opal and the Stone of Anthion actually were one and the same, not only would the commanders be coming
to take it from Kitrina, they would be looking to take her very life, for that would be the only way the stone would ever leave her. That is, until the day she bore a child of her own, if she ever got the chance.
The Dragon Heart Opal. He’d seen it many times over the years. It had hung around Kitrina’s neck since she’d been a baby. It had always been a part of who she was. Large and smooth, bluish-white and almost transparent, it was a teardrop-shaped, incredibly beautiful stone.
The story of the gemstone itself was the stuff of lore. The Dragon Heart Opal was rumored to have been a gift from the dragons themselves to the human who had slayed the very last nogard. A token of appreciation, so to speak. Fashioned from the still beating heart of a dying dragon, the stone had bonded to that first leader of the Paladins of Albrath and his firstborn child after him, and so on and so on.
Only three things could separate any part of the stone from its owner. When held in the hand of whomever the stone felt to be the owner’s one true mate, it split into two equal parts and attached itself to both people. Then it would once more join back together when the first child of their union was born. The stone then bound itself to the child. And lastly, upon the wearer’s death, if there’d been no children to pass it on to, the stone reverted to whoever was next in line until there was no one left to bond to.
Zander shuddered. The thought of killing people, and not just any people but such a wonderful, caring family of people as the Dragonhearts and for nothing more than a pretty rock, was beyond his capacity to understand.
The Dragon Heart Opal didn’t even possess any truly magical abilities that he was aware of. It wasn’t like it could give its wearer superhuman strength or stealth or even protection from evil.
Tamed by the Fire Page 3
