The Dragon King's Prisoner: A Paranormal Romance (Separated by Time Book 1)

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The Dragon King's Prisoner: A Paranormal Romance (Separated by Time Book 1) Page 3

by Jasmine Wylder

“Father.” Warmund’s voice was tense, his hands clenched. Smoke curled from his nostrils. “I have come to ask you to change your mind about the portals.”

  “And you have wasted your time.”

  Warmund’s fists tightened. “Are you really going to stand back and do nothing? Waste this chance that fate has granted us to find Wildref and bring her back?”

  “Wildref is dead.”

  “Maybe not!” Warmund’s voice rose. “If we can tame this time magic, then we could go back. We could stop her from being taken. We could warn our past selves about the assassinations and prevent it from happening. The queen wouldn’t have to be dead.”

  That tugged at Indulf’s heart. For a brief moment, he was tempted. But that moment passed. “And then what? If we changed the past, what would happen then? We could end up losing even more, Warmund. If you were suddenly to appear in the past, what guarantees are there that you wouldn’t be killed? Time magic is volatile. It’s forbidden for a reason. You could destroy the whole kingdom trying to save two people.”

  Warmund closed his eyes, as though steeling himself.

  Indulf glanced over his gathered companions. They all carried a weapon of some sort. It was obvious what this was. His heart sank, and a bitter smile crossed his face. “I thought you were smarter than this, Warmund. Coming to attack me yourself? You’d have done better to hire an assassin to kill me.”

  Warmund’s eyes opened. A brief hint of uneasiness flashed through his gaze, but it was replaced with steely determination. “I don’t want to kill you, Father. If you will stand down, then it can be a peaceful transition. But I cannot stand back anymore while you do nothing.”

  “Ah, my son.” Indulf shook his head sadly. “A peaceful transition? If it were possible for you to be king, I’d have crowned you as my heir long ago. But we are a stubborn people, us dragons. Nobody will accept you as their ruler.”

  “They don’t have to!” Warmund hissed, his voice full of venom. “They just have to fear me enough to stay out of my way. I am going to open the portals, Father. I am going to get Wildref back, since you are too much of a coward. Since you would rather watch everything burn in your grief, rather than taking the steps to stop it. Then, once I have my sister by my side and your weakness is exposed to the kingdom… they’ll accept her.”

  The doubt was plain to see in Warmund’s eyes. Indulf considered his son for a moment. His companions all bristled, on edge, clearly wanting to attack. The hold he had, keeping them back, was tentative at best. Not one of them was a dragon. That was good. The corridor was also wide and open, allowing for a full shift. That was also good. If he shifted right now, attacked before they had a chance—

  But this was his son. If he had a chance to talk him down, then he would take it. Indulf turned his gaze back to Warmund and softened his expression. “I know you miss her, Son. I know that you are doing this because you still mourn her. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “No.” Warmund choked, then suddenly his shoulders went back. Fury filled his gaze. “It’s yours.”

  There was a space of a single heartbeat when Indulf’s brain refused to accept what was happening. It felt like he was watching from another person’s body as his son charged, his companions crying out together. A blade flashed in Warmund’s hand. It was only then that everything caught up with him. Sound and color sharpened, and his flames burst from his mouth.

  Indulf threw himself forward. Warmund swiped clumsily at him and Indulf struck his wrist, then spun in and elbowed him in the throat. One of the others stabbed at his ribs, and Indulf grabbed that arm and brought it down over his knee. A sickening crunch followed by a blood-curdling scream, and the knife dropped to the floor as the mage’s arm bent backward at the elbow.

  A fist was driven into his kidneys, making Indulf stumble. He didn’t waste time looking for who it was; he semi-shifted, his skin covered with silvery scales and long claws sprouted from his fingertips. He swiped with both hands. Felt blades skitter over his skin, while his own claws sank deep in tender flesh. He yanked from one side to the other, the copper tang of blood filling the air.

  Warmund roared in fury and was there again, his skin covered in glittering black scales. He slammed his body into Indulf’s, driving him back from the soft mages. Wickedly sharp claws swiped across his chest, slicing open the leather jerkin and sending scales flying through the air. Fury burned in his eyes. Indulf closed his heart off; this was no longer his son, but an enemy. Faceless. Nameless. He renewed his attack, trading blows back and forth.

  The others regrouped and charged in to help their traitor prince. Indulf fought off their beating swords, but every now and then they found a nick in his armor created by their leader. Blood flowed freely as he cried out in pain. Shouts came from down the corridor and for a moment everybody froze. Volcant and other guards charged to meet them.

  The soft-bodied ones turned to meet the dragons, and Indulf threw his enemy against the wall. Fire burned in his gut as he opened his jaws to destroy the one who had attacked him. One hand pressed hard into his enemy’s throat, preventing him from releasing his own fires.

  And then, Indulf made a mistake. He met his enemy’s eyes; and in that second, it wasn’t a traitor trying to kill him that he saw. It was his son. His little boy. And he couldn’t do it. He released Warmund and stepped back.

  “Go,” he whispered.

  Warmund hesitated only a second before he ran.

  Indulf watched his son disappear down the corridor. Behind him there were shouts and when he finally turned, Volcant had brought down the last of the would-be assassins. He gave his king a look Indulf didn’t bother to decipher, before ordering guards after Warmund.

  Indulf wanted to order them to let him go, but knew he couldn’t. Warmund had risen against him, tried to kill him… As king, he couldn’t let that stand.

  “I will be in my rooms when you find him,” he mumbled to Volcant and swiftly walked away while his fires flickered low and tears burned his eyes.

  Chapter Five

  Anna

  After drinking what felt like a ton of water in the morning, Anna felt much better. Her head was still a little woozy, but she was no longer considering stripping off all her clothes and doing a sexy dance for the dragon king who held her prisoner. Seriously, that was some very strong stuff he had given her. Had he known how much it was going to affect her when he handed it over?

  Those thoughts were put out of her head when she was summoned once more to the king. She gulped nervously when she was brought into his chambers. This time there was no feast, no sense of elegance. Indulf’s stare was ice-cold. Her heart jumped into her throat, even though her gut told her he wasn’t going to hurt her.

  “Leave us,” the king said softly.

  The guards grunted but bowed and took their leave. Anna twitched on the spot, wringing her hands.

  How was she meant to tell him that she wasn’t an assassin? She had no idea how she had gotten here. No idea how to get back. It was one giant question mark, one she was uncertain would ever be answered.

  “The wine yesterday. Apparently, it is stronger for humans than dragons. I apologize for that.” Indulf’s voice was still soft and the cold look in his eyes warmed. “I have decided that you are not a threat, Anna. I just have to figure out what to do with you now.”

  Anna let out a relieved sigh. “Finally! That means I don’t have to be scared of you eating me anymore.”

  Indulf rose a single brow. “Eating you? Huh. And here I thought that you wanted me to. At least, you were certainly acting like it last night.”

  It took a moment for Anna to understand the double entendre. When she did, heat flared through her face—and other parts of her body. She turned away, hiding her face while wondering what the hell was going on with her. Being this embarrassed shouldn’t turn her on!

  It must be because I’m imagining his head between my legs, she thought, and everything got much worse. She fought back a moan of despair, certain that it woul
d come out breathy and aroused. Indulf chuckled softly, and she turned a black glare onto him. The gleam in his eye took her breath away and made the heat under her skin sizzle and pop.

  “I didn’t—I mean, I was drunk. I didn’t mean any of it. Really.” Except she had. Every word. The fact that he hadn’t taken advantage of her drunk state only made her want him more. Would she have regretted it if he had? Who knew… but he had recognized that she was drunk enough that she wasn’t acting as she otherwise would and respected that. “Damn. I mean, you’re very attractive and I can’t say that it hasn’t crossed my mind and… and… I’m not usually like that. But I… am going to shut up now.”

  “Anna…” The gleam faded into an uncertain look. It was so unusual for him that he wasn’t sure how to respond. “Anna, there is something…”

  She cocked her head to one side as she stared at him. “Yes?”

  Indulf rubbed the back of his neck. “I… I need to tell you that my son, Warmund… he has turned against me and the crown.”

  Her eyes widened and both her hands flew to her mouth. “What?”

  “I believe that he may try to take you. You are the key to opening the portals again and—”

  There was a flash of pain in his eyes. Anna stepped forward, reaching to comfort him without thinking. He stepped back from her and held up a hand. Color crept up her cheeks and she backed away again, keeping her eyes downcast this time. His son had just betrayed him. How much must that hurt? And what comfort could some comic-book shop worker give the king of dragons?

  Indulf glanced at her again. “I do not believe that holding open portals would be a good idea. Perhaps not even opening them. However, since you came here, we need to at least find out why. This whole business means that either there is someone deliberately opening up time portals or there is unstable magic out there. So, I am going to have my mages take a look at you and start some tests.”

  “Mages.” The image of a bunch of white-haired men with long beards and gross leers on their faces as they told her to undress came to her mind. She swallowed hard. “What will these tests include?”

  “I’m not sure, to be truthful. Dragon magic is much more contained than human magic. But I image they will want to scan you, check your humors and probably draw a little blood.”

  “Oh… okay… will you stay with me?” The question popped out, her face heating as it did so, but she didn’t take it back.

  Indulf’s brows rose. “Do you want me to?”

  Anna buried her toes in the furs that lined the floor. She chewed on her lip for a moment before nodding. Her face was still on fire, but she couldn’t stop herself. She might not know him well, but she knew enough that he wasn’t going to let them do anything inappropriate to her. Maybe he saw that fear because, after a moment, he sighed.

  “Yes. I can stay. At least at the beginning.”

  “Thank you,” she said fervently. “It… Thank you.”

  ***

  It turned out that her imagination was way off course. The mages wore regular clothes, or at least what passed for regular around here, and they were a wide mix of age and both men and women were involved. Taking blood meant attaching leeches to her arms, though, and that made her squeamish. Indulf had to leave after about half an hour. Anna was sad to see him go, but she was fine being left alone.

  Several hours later, she was lounging on a couch trying to make heads or tails out of a brilliantly illustrated book. The mages tinkered with the leeches and vials of other things they took from her, like spit and hair samples. It was like being stuck in a forensic lab. They even had rudimentary microscopes.

  “Why is this taking so long?” she finally demanded. “What’s the point of magic if you have to wait for hours and hours to get anything?”

  One of the mages looked up and gave her a nasty side-glance. “What are you complaining about?”

  “This is taking forever.”

  The mage swung a braid out of her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “That’s smart talk, coming from someone who doesn’t have a drop of magic in her blood. These things take time, and we are working as fast as we can.”

  Another of the mages behind the first one snorted. “I didn’t think that magicless people were actually real. There has to be something we’re overlooking. How can she be alive without magic?”

  Anna groaned as she flung herself on the couch again. “Nobody in my world has magic.”

  They gave her disbelieving glances. She shrugged and returned to trying to read the book. The language wasn’t English, but it was just similar enough to make her feel like she should be able to understand it. It was exceedingly frustrating.

  The door opened and Indulf came in, tailed by Volcant. Indulf gave her a small smile and nodded his head at her, which made her stomach do a happy sort of twisting thing. Volcant just looked grumpy.

  “Any progress?” the king asked.

  The mages glanced at each other and shook their heads. “Not yet. But we’re done with the girl. She can go now.”

  “Girl?” Anna huffed. “Try my name next time.”

  Indulf’s smile widened.

  Anna rubbed her eyes and stretched. “Are these guys the best you have? Don’t you have, I don’t know, druids?”

  “What’s a druid?”

  “They’re like, people. With magic. Who do spells and stuff.”

  The mage from before frowned at her. “You said that nobody in your world has magic. Which is it?”

  “Well… druids aren’t real…”

  The mage rolled her eyes.

  “But to be fair, neither are dragons. At least, not in my world. But that doesn’t mean that a girl can’t dream, you know? I’ve always loved fantasy. Witches and wizards and magic and elves and dragons and… well… lots of other stuff.” She pressed her lips together, stopping herself from continuing to babble.

  To her relief, Indulf all-out grinned at her. “Well, if you aren’t needed around here anymore, perhaps we can go for a walk and you can tell me about your world.”

  Anna sighed in relief. “That would be wonderful. I’m going stir-crazy here.”

  She noted that Volcant had a frustrated look on his face when Indulf offered her his arm, but she ignored it. She was more than grateful for the excuse to get out of there. The king took her to the gardens, where they walked among carefully tended flowers. He asked her all sorts of questions about her world, and she answered eagerly. He didn’t understand everything, and she didn’t understand how to explain everything, but they made it work. As they walked, she found herself wondering about him. Warmund was his son, but she would have guessed that they were of similar ages. Did dragons not age the same way humans did? She fell silent, staring at him.

  He glanced at her with a smile. “What are you thinking?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Anna turned away. A frown crossed her face as she considered what else she had learned from her short time here. He had been married and his wife had been killed. Why had he never remarried? For that matter, he was a king. How many lady dragons did he have throwing themselves at him every day? The frown turned into a scowl as she imagined a harem of slim-waisted, big-boobed women in scanty clothes pressed up against him.

  “There is something bothering you,” Indulf teased. “What is it?”

  Well, she couldn’t ask him about his late wife. “How old are you?” she blurted instead.

  “What?” Indulf laughed. “That’s what is weighing so heavily on you?”

  Anna shrugged. “Well? You’ve got a full-grown son. But you only look, like, thirty. How young were you when he was born?”

  Indulf’s smile faded. “I was sixteen centuries. I’m thirty-six centuries now.”

  “Centuries.” Her head spun for a moment, then she shook her head. “How long do dragons normally live?”

  “On average? Around ninety centuries.”

  “So… you age a hundred times slower than humans? Which means you’re the equivalent of thirty-six. So, there
isn’t that much of an age difference between us after all.” Anna nodded, satisfied with her calculations.

  Indulf chuckled. “I suppose not, if you look at it that way. That reminds me, there is something I was meaning to ask you.”

  She nodded for him to continue.

  “That sword that you brought with you… what magic does it possess?”

  “Magic? None. It’s just a decoration. It’s not a real sword.”

  Indulf stopped. A grin crossed his face and he took her hand. “Would you like to learn how to use a real sword?”

  Her eyes lit up and she jumped up and down despite herself. “Would I? Oh, yes, please!”

  Indulf laughed and tugged her along. “Come, then. To the armory we go.”

  Chapter Six

  Indulf

  The mages had nothing to report. That was to be expected. Magic took time to study. It was a rigorous procedure that had to be followed to a T. Any mistake could end up being catastrophic. That didn’t mean that the continual lack of answers didn’t grate on Indulf’s nerves.

  He was in his chambers, calming his agitation with a glass of his favorite wine, when Volcant came to him. His head security officer looked so grave that Indulf knew that all the wine in the world wasn’t going to be enough to soften the blow. He set the glass aside and nodded at Volcant to speak.

  “My lord, we’ve started receiving reports that Warmund is… gathering.”

  His fires flickered. “Gathering what? Chickens?”

  “He’s gathering dragons to his cause. He’s proclaiming that he will find the lost princess, and… he has a surprising amount of support.” Volcant’s eyes glittered with anger as his hands clenched. “What, do they think that boy will be able to—”

  “They want their princess back.” Indulf’s voice was soft.

  He gestured at the door, dismissing Volcant without words. The other dragon hesitated for only a moment before bowing. He walked away with a stiff back, leaving Indulf alone. The kingdom had celebrated with Wildref’s birth. A king without an heir was a cause for concern. If he didn’t have a child to take his spot, then the dragon lords would fight for the position of king on his death. The last time that had happened, half the country had been burned.

 

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