Dragon's Blood: a Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy Book 2)

by Jasmine Walt

  Dragon’s Blood

  The Dragon’s Gift Trilogy: Book Two

  Jasmine Walt

  May Sage

  Dynamo Press

  Copyright © 2017, Jasmine Walt and May Sage. All rights reserved. Published by Dynamo Press. This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to jasmine@jasminewalt.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  About the Authors

  Also by Jasmine Walt

  1

  He wants the Dragon’s Gift.

  Those words echoed in Dareena’s head, over and over again, as she sat by Lucyan’s bedside. She gripped the dragon prince’s hand tightly in hers while the healer helped him swallow a concoction to speed his recovery. Her heart ached to see him so battered—the cocky grin he always sported was gone, and his head and ribs were bound tightly with muslin bandages. The air in the room was as grim as the black and blue bruises on his face and chest, and not just because one of her beloveds was laid out in bed looking as though he’d been trampled by the horses.

  No, they were all gathered here—Dareena, Lucyan, Drystan, Alistair, and Tariana—because the elves had them by the throat. They needed to figure out their next move.

  “Thank you,” Lucyan said hoarsely, waving the healer away. “Please, leave us for a moment.” He sank back against the pillows, looking exhausted.

  Every word he spoke seemed to pain him, and Dareena wished they could leave him alone to rest.

  But time was not on their side, not when an envoy from the elven kingdom would be here any moment to collect her.

  The healer bowed and left, shutting Lucyan’s bedroom door behind her. Once she was out of earshot, Lucyan opened his eyes and pinned Drystan with a fierce stare.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Drystan sucked in a breath. “I shifted,” he said, and he sounded as if he still couldn’t quite believe it. “After Father threw you against that wall, I grew so angry, I just changed. The two of us crashed through the window in the throne room, and we briefly fought outside, but Father flew off after I wounded him in the eye. It would appear he’s headed for the Black Mountains.”

  “Well, good riddance,” Lucyan huffed. He squeezed Dareena’s hand and gave her a fond look. “I’m glad you made it out of the throne room safely. In fact, all of you look remarkably well for having been in a fight with a dragon king. So why does it feel like we are about to go to someone’s funeral?”

  “Because Drystan may have won the battle against our father, but we have lost the war against the elves,” Tariana said, her voice brittle. “Solara arrived with a message from Arolas, Elvenhame’s crown prince and the new general. They have slaughtered or imprisoned over half our forces.”

  “Half?” What little blood remained in Lucyan’s face drained completely. “How is that possible?”

  “Apparently, the elves have managed to get their hands on some newfangled warlock spell,” Tariana said bitterly. “They have a strange magic that forces us to change back into human form when we draw near and also greatly weakens the dragon born and prevents them from healing. They managed to kill three of our sisters by forcing them back into human form mid-flight, and laughed as they fell to the ground and split open their skulls. Three of them. And two more have been taken prisoner.”

  “Fuck,” the brothers said in unison as Dareena stared at Tariana, frozen with shock and horror. Three dragons dead…over half their forces slaughtered or clapped in chains. Her stomach roiled, and she pulled in a slow, deep breath through her nose before she could become sick all over Lucyan’s bed.

  Pull yourself together, Dareena, she told herself. The last thing the brothers needed was for her to fall apart right now.

  “Thankfully,” Drystan said, his tone rife with sarcasm, “the elves have been magnanimous enough to hold off on wiping out the rest of our forces. Instead, they have agreed to release the prisoners in exchange for Dareena.”

  “What?” Lucyan roared, coming off the bed. His eyes blazed red with anger for a split second before they widened with pain and he collapsed on the bed again.

  “Lucyan!” Dareena jumped up from her seat, pressing her hands into his shoulders. “Lucyan, please, don’t tax yourself. You need to rest.”

  “Like hell I do,” Lucyan snarled, his eyes bright with the same combination of anger and grief that roiled in Dareena’s heart. “They can’t take you from us. You’re our Dragon’s Gift.” He gripped her wrists, an agonized look on his handsome face.

  Dareena sucked in a shaking breath, blinking back tears of her own. “I don’t have a choice,” she said softly, pulling back. She met each of the brothers’ gazes in turn, and her heart ached at the stricken looks on their faces. “If turning myself over to the elves means saving thousands of lives, I have to do it.”

  Drystan gave a deep sigh, while Alistair scraped a hand through his blond hair.

  “As commendable as that is,” Tariana said softly, “and as much as I don’t want to lose half our army, you are the only thing that is standing between our line and certain extinction. You are far too valuable to be used as a pawn.”

  “Nevertheless, I must go,” Dareena said, just as softly. “If I do not, they will wipe out the rest of our army and take the kingdom. At least this way they will only have one hostage, not thousands.”

  “If you are to go,” Alistair growled, “you’ll not go alone. I will accompany you.”

  Drystan and Lucyan both nodded their assent. “One of us needs to be by your side while the rest of us figure out how to clean up this bloody mess,” Lucyan said.

  Drystan opened his mouth to add something, but before he could, the door banged open. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Your Highnesses,” Tarius Bellamin, the steward, said as he bowed hurriedly, “but an envoy from Elvenhame has arrived, and they demand to speak to the three of you immediately.”

  2

  The next fifteen minutes were a mad rush to the throne room. Servants were called in to help Lucyan into something presentable, while the other two brothers hurried back to their rooms to change clothes. Dareena still looked fresh as a daisy in her white gown, but the brothers looked as though they’d been in a brawl, and the last thing they needed was to receive the elven envoy looking as though they’d all been dragged through the mud.

  Finally, the five of them m
ade their way to the throne room, which had been cleaned up some, though there was nothing to be done about the missing window behind the dais. Drystan sat on the throne, and two more chairs were brought in for his brothers, while Dareena and Tariana remained standing on either side. Lucyan had to be in excruciating pain, sitting on that stiff-backed golden chair, but he revealed nothing, his features schooled into casual indifference. She hoped the tonic the healer had given him was kicking in and that his dragon healing would have him back to normal soon.

  “Send them in,” Drystan commanded the steward, his deep voice echoing in the chamber.

  The guards nodded and opened the double doors to admit the envoy. The steward entered, and directly behind him, a tall elven female with long, silver hair sailed in, her willowy frame draped in shimmering green and white fabric. Her jade eyes were arctic, her aristocratic features coldly beautiful, and she wore a cruel smile on her face as she glided toward the throne, flanked by two elven soldiers.

  “Presenting the Duchess Lilani of House Valenhall,” Tarius said, bowing low. The duchess inclined her head in the barest show of deference, and Dareena felt a brief flash of anger. From the way Drystan’s jaw tightened, she knew he’d seen the slight as well. “Lady Valenhall, you stand before Princes Drystan, Lucyan, and Alistair, Princess and General Tariana, and the Dragon’s Gift, Dareena.”

  “Charmed,” the duchess drawled, her green eyes flicking over the princes dismissively before latching onto Dareena. “Though I can’t say I’m particularly impressed at the dragon god’s choice,” she said, arching a pale blonde eyebrow. “Perhaps he, too, realizes how hopeless your situation is.”

  “Did you come here to speak to us, or are you here to bandy about insults?” Lucyan asked in an utterly bored voice before Dareena could voice the retort that was burning her lips. “If it is the latter, you have come a long way. A letter would have been perfectly sufficient.”

  The duchess bared her teeth in the semblance of a smile. “You are flippant for a man who is on the brink of losing his country,” she said. “Although, whose country is it now? Our spies have already reported King Dragomir’s abdication—I assume you are king now, since you are sitting on his throne?” she asked Drystan.

  “I am,” Drystan said, not missing a beat. It took everything Dareena had not to exchange glances with Lucyan and Alistair—if Drystan didn’t want the duchess to know about their decision to rule jointly, there must be a good reason for it. “And as I understand it, you are here to take my wife hostage in exchange for the release of our prisoners.”

  “I am indeed.” Lady Valenhall smirked. “In addition, both sides will call for an immediate cessation of hostilities, and the royal families will sit down together to negotiate a truce.”

  “Why not do that now?” Alistair demanded, speaking up for the first time. “Instead of wasting all this time bandying about with hostages, the king could have traveled here himself, and we could have something signed by the end of the day. We are not warmongers, Lady Valenhall—that was our father’s way, and as you can see, he is gone.”

  “You’ll forgive me if my king doesn’t trust you at your word,” the duchess said with a cold smile. “Given the history between our two races, it would be foolish for us to give up our bargaining chip. As you can imagine, holding thousands of soldiers prisoner is quite troublesome, not to mention expensive. We would much rather give them back to you and take your Dragon’s Gift in their stead.”

  “And if we refuse?” Drystan asked.

  “Then the prisoners will be executed immediately.”

  The princes stiffened, and Tariana’s eyes blazed with hatred. Dareena felt numb all over—how could the elves sanction the murder of thousands? Were they really such an awful, bloodthirsty people? Surreptitiously, she fingered the stone on her right ring finger, wondering if she truly descended from the same race as the cruel woman who stood before them.

  “Very well,” Drystan said. “We agree to your terms, on one condition.”

  “You are hardly in a position to make demands.”

  “You will acquiesce to this one,” Drystan said firmly. “The Dragon’s Gift may be the future mother of my children, but she is still only human herself. I insist on sending Alistair, my brother, with her to Elvenhame for protection.”

  “Two hostages for the price of one?” Lady Valenhall said, sounding delighted. “Well, if you insist.”

  “You must also agree,” Drystan said, “that neither my brother nor the Dragon’s Gift will be harmed in any way, and that your king will keep them in his castle as guests, not prisoners.”

  “But of course,” the duchess said. “We are not barbarians like you. Your family will be treated like royalty during their stay. I’ll even sign an agreement stating such.”

  “When will the prisoners be released?” Lucyan demanded. “Are we merely to take your word that they will be allowed to return home?”

  “They will be set free as soon as we cross over into Elvenhame’s border and will be allowed to return unmolested. The two of you had best pack your bags,” she said to Dareena, her lips curving into a devious smile, “and you may want to make your goodbyes to your husband. You may not be seeing him again for a good, long while.”

  3

  Once the agreement was signed, Dareena and Alistair were whisked off to their rooms to pack. They were only allowed to bring a single trunk each, so Dareena had to be choosy about what she selected to take on the journey.

  “I wish they allowed us to bring weapons,” she said to Rona as her maid packed her underthings into her wooden trunk. Dareena was perched on the edge of her bed, tracing the hilt of her jade dagger, which she’d worn faithfully on her thigh ever since Drystan had given it to her. She remembered that day quite clearly, when he’d slid her skirts up to show her how to strap the holster on, and Dareena had thought she would combust from his sensual fingers on her bare skin.

  Gods, how would she get through this? She’d lived her whole life without the prospect of a desirable mate, but now that she had three, she couldn’t bear the idea of being parted from any of them. Drystan’s fierce, protective embrace…Lucyan’s saucy smiles and laugh-out-loud jokes…she would miss them terribly.

  At least I’ll have Alistair with me, she thought, and was incredibly grateful for that. Her noble soldier with his heart of gold would hold her through the long nights ahead.

  “Even if you did pack it, they would likely take it away when they searched your bag,” Rona said ruefully. “Best to leave it so it will be here safe and sound when you come back.” Her voice wobbled a little, and Dareena knew Rona was wondering if she would come back.

  “Don’t worry about me, Rona.” She pushed herself off the bed and embraced her maid. “I will be perfectly fine. The duchess gave her word that I wouldn’t be harmed.”

  “That’s all well and good,” Rona sniffed, pulling away, “but the duchess isn’t the king, is she?”

  Dareena bit her lip. The thought had crossed her mind, but as the duchess was an envoy, she represented the king. Her word was as good as if the king himself had come, and she had signed an agreement…

  “Oh, what am I doing, making you worry like this?” Rona shook her head. “Of course the elves won’t harm you. They aren’t known for their cruelty, and from what I’ve heard of the elven kingdom, it’s quite beautiful. I’m sure it will all seem like a grand vacation,” she said with a watery laugh.

  Dareena smiled, more to ease Rona’s nerves than anything else. “You’re right,” she said, taking a dress from her closet and handing it to her maid to fold. “I’ll think of it as a great adventure. It isn’t every day one gets to travel to a new kingdom,” she added with a wink.

  “I only wish I could come with you,” Rona said ruefully. “I imagine they’ve assigned you a maid, so I’ve tucked a list of instructions for her into the bag so she knows how hot to run your bath and what kind of tea you take in the morning.”

  Dareena laughed. “You are to
o kind, Rona,” she said, kissing her on the cheek. “You have been welcoming since the moment I arrived and have taken such good care of me. I will miss you dearly.”

  They were nearly finished packing when a knock came at the door.

  “Dareena,” Drystan said when she opened it. His eyes glimmered with some undefined emotion, his face unreadable. “Could I have a moment alone with you?”

  Dareena glanced over her shoulder. “Go on,” she said quietly to her maid. “I can finish without you.”

  Rona nodded. “Please write to us often,” she said, hugging Dareena tightly. “I will go mad if I don’t hear from you.”

  Dareena hugged her back, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I will,” she promised, and sent Rona on her way.

  “All right,” Dareena said as she closed the door behind Drystan. “What—”

  Drystan didn’t give her the chance to finish. He pushed her against the wall and kissed her hard, his hands tearing at her dress. Dareena gasped as the gold and white silk fluttered to the ground, and he slid his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed over her naked flesh. They slid beneath her bottom and gripped her tightly, hauling her up against him so that his hardness pressed directly against her already pulsing core.

  “Drystan,” she moaned as he blazed a path from her mouth to her ear with his lips.