“You’re doing an awful lot for a woman you’ve never even met before,” she said when her teeth stopped chattering.
“You’re the woman who may be the future mother of my child. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Elena, which I can’t do if you leave the protection of the castle. Promise me, no more forays into the forest unguarded. I don’t want to stifle you, but I don’t want anything to happen to your pretty little neck either.” My gaze wandered down to the neck in question. I wondered what it would taste like, and my dragon wondered what it would be like to give her our mark.
Contrite, she turned her eyes back to the water. “Forgive me. I merely wanted some time away from all the people. I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to the solitude at the temple. Court life doesn’t seem to suit me anymore.”
“I understand. I feel the same way. The Northlands can seem isolating, but if it’s solitude you’re looking for, then you’ll enjoy my home.”
“If I may ask, what is your home like? I’m afraid I’ve never been to the Northlands.”
I closed my eyes as I gathered her close into my warmth. “My castle was carved into the mountain range that spans the city of Fellenor. Some say there are parts of it that go so deep into the rock one can get lost trying to find their way out.”
“Is that true?” she asked.
“The crypts underneath the castle are immense and one could get lost if they don’t know where they’re going. But I’ve scoured every part of them. If you got lost, I’d find you.” She shivered at my words.
“What about your people? I’ve heard you’re the last full shifter of your clan. Is it true there hasn’t been another full-blooded dragon born in decades?”
I knew the question was coming. She was too polite to ask me what had really happened to curse our people. But there was no way in Slaine I was going into that with her. “No there hasn’t, but we’re going to change that.”
Her eyes met mine and held. The bond I’d been fighting roared up inside of me like a tidal wave. My dragon wanted her.
And I was afraid there would be nothing I could do to stop it.
7
Elena
Stupid girl.
I should have left the moment he showed up. At least after we were bound together, we’d be in his castle with servants and other shifters around as a buffer. Out here, there was only us.
The forthcoming man before me didn’t seem like the one who could murder his mate in cold blood. Were the rumors really true? I couldn’t be sure. “I-I’d better get back to the castle,” I said and was furious to find my voice trembled, not with fear, but with something much worse—curiosity.
There was a moment of tense silence, and then he nodded. “I’ll escort you back.” When I moved to put space between us, he said, “You have nothing to fear from me, Princess. At least not yet.”
I didn’t grace that comment with a response, but I also didn’t argue with him when he took my arm in his. His warmth was too seductive to deny against the wintry chill pressing in on my cloak.
And he was right; someone wanted to kill me. He may be a beast, but he was a threat I could see. Whoever poisoned my wine could be someone close to me, someone I trusted, which scared me more than being filleted and roasted by the Dragon.
Mostly.
The castle was quiet when we approached, but the guard had more than doubled. Lord Blaque turned to nod at those who’d been waiting silently at the entrance to my quarters. After I’d nearly been poisoned, they’d taken shifts watching over my rooms, which was what made escaping so difficult…and welcome. I hated being under constant surveillance at the castle. At least when I’d been banished to the temple, I’d been left to my own devices.
The guards bowed to me, and I inclined my head to them in return. A maid appeared from the shadows, took a candle, and led them away. My ladies-in-waiting twittered excitedly as they appeared out of nowhere. I dismissed them with a wave of my hand and I was pleased to find that it didn’t shake with nerves as my voice had.
The doors closed behind the last of the servants with a sound of finality, with Lord Blaque and I alone inside. I should have said goodbye before he escorted me to my rooms, but I didn’t want to make a scene in front of the servants. There was already too much gossip where he and I were concerned.
My dress swished at my legs, settling around me in a swirl of elegant fabric as I put distance between us. The preparation had seemed silly at the time, but in hindsight I was grateful I let Leisha make up my face and hair for dinner. With his imposing presence, I felt I had to have all of my best cards at hand to come out as the victor and the finery felt a bit like a mask.
“Why did you come back?” he asked, as he ambled about the room and studied my things. He paused, one claw rifling through my bag of paltry dresses I’d worn at the temple. “You could have stayed away and I wouldn’t have forced the issue. You’re a princess. I’m a beast. No one would have blamed you.”
“My father had an agreement with you. Darkmoores don’t go back on their word. And wanted to see him…at least one last time.”
At the mention of my father, I turned from him and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked over the courtyard and our lands in the distance. I had never been beyond the palace walls, aside from my trip to the temple, but I loved my kingdom. From the mountains and the thick forests teeming with life to the oceans and plains on our borders. It was my home, my heart, and it was my duty to be their champion, their savior, no matter the cost. Even if the cost was everything that made me who I was.
His boots clicked against the marble floor as he crossed the room toward me. His presence wasn’t seemingly malevolent, but there was an energy that surrounded him which put my nerves on edge, and had since the first time I saw him. It made me wish for a weapon. Like the dagger my father gave me when I first learned I would be Queen—or when I first understood the reality of what it meant. My tutor, Hilda, hid it from me, when I became more interested in swordplay than my lessons. She’d scolded my father behind his back for giving such a violent gift to a lady. As Lord Blaque drew near, bringing with him the scent of smoke, earth, and cinnamon, I was helpless to protect myself. Not that a dagger would prove much protection from a dragon.
“He spoke very highly of you,” he said. “And please, call me Rhys.” He growled the name, Risseee, like the thought of his name on my tongue would bring him pleasure. If that were the case, it’d be a cold day in Slaine before he heard it from me.
“Did you meet with him often?” The people below me went about their nightly chores, unaware of the sacrifices I would soon make to continue to keep them safe. I’d failed them so many times; I didn’t want to fail them again.
“Often enough.” He propped an arm against the window next to me and I glanced up at him, taken aback by the soft expression on his face as he gazed at me. I blinked and then the expression vanished, causing me to wonder if it was a figment of my imagination. “He said you would have made a magnificent queen.”
Underneath the heavy layers of my dress I was sweating, and my knees trembled, but my face was smooth as glass and my voice did not waver. He was much too close, but I would never let him know he affected me in such a way. “I suppose it’s a good thing neither he nor my mother are here to see how far from Queen I’ve fallen.”
“The Dragon-Clan has a saying: Don’t let anyone steal your fire. There’s a fire inside you, bright as the stars, beautiful as dawn. They can only douse it if you let them.” His voice was melodic, soothing. Devious. The long days of travel and the fading adrenaline had my weary body swooning toward him. Certainly there wasn’t any other explanation for my reaction.
The thick material of my dress was stifling, or maybe it was the heat that came at me in waves from his too-near body. I kept my gaze on my feet so that he did not see my wild eyes. It felt like the fire he spoke of would burn me from the inside out. Was it the heat coming from his body that made me feel like I was being sl
owly scalded? It couldn’t be. He wasn’t even touching me.
As soon as I thought the words, bare fingers caressed the curve of my jaw and my eyes closed, though, to my despair, not from revulsion. The pads of his fingers seemed to spark where they came in contact with the soft skin under my jaw. I couldn’t contain the nervous swallow or the thready beat of my pulse. I remembered the decadent feeling of being in his arms and surrounded by that warmth all too clearly.
“We should…” I cut myself off, cleared my throat. “We should get some sleep. With the binding ceremony tomorrow, it’ll be a long day for both of us.”
His smile returned, dangerous and full of depravity I didn’t quite understand. His claw reached out and sifted through my hair. “You know, I didn’t want to be bound to anyone.” That I hadn’t expected. Before I could bite out a retort, he continued, “But I’m beginning to believe it may not be so awful after all.”
My breath caught in my chest and his fingers glided down the smooth column of my throat in a possessive movement that caused my back to stiffen. His hand rose again and his thumb traced the full line of my lower lip. My mouth opened the smallest fraction, and I licked my lips without conscious thought, tasting him there.
“How kind of you to say,” I managed wryly.
He watched the glide of my tongue along my lip, his smile gone. “Oh, I’m not a kind man, Princess,” he murmured. “Didn’t you know?”
I didn’t respond at first for fear of dislodging the thumb on my lip. One taste of him was more than enough to know that a second would be unwise. I’ve heard ladies speak of temptations such as these. Especially where Lord Rhysander was concerned. Rumor of his prowess was legend, according to the maid. I had no desire to cloud my mind even with such distractions.
“Lord Blaque,” I said before my voice cut out.
When he didn’t respond, I looked up and almost fumbled backward. His eyes were no longer a tranquil blue. They were bright and turbulent, like chaotic, angry waves after a violent storm. The hand on my jaw snaked to the back of my neck to jerk me forward against his hard body. My hands came up to catch my fall and land on the firm, tightly knitted muscles of his chest.
“Rhys—” I started to protest, but was unable to finish. Since when did I call him Rhys? The hard, insistent press of his lips against my own robbed me of all words and common sense.
I had been kissed before, not that Gideon or my tutors ever knew about those stolen moments, and I thought I knew everything there was to know about the act. Sloppy, wet things, kisses. I thought, at the time, I was preparing myself for this, when I would meet the man I was promised to and we would kiss for the first time. An immature part of me thought I could surprise him with my worldly knowledge based on my meager experience.
I was wrong.
Instead he surprised me.
Rhys guided me backward with one powerful movement, though I didn’t notice it other than as a passing thought that it felt like walking on clouds. His hand caught against the wall and then his body was trapping me there. Could it be called a trap if you didn’t want to leave it?
The moment his chest brushed against mine, and his tongue plundered my mouth, I forgot about keeping the upper hand and kissed him back.
My hands found their way into the incredibly soft material of his cape. It flowed around and over his powerful shoulders, shrouding us from the outside world. His smoke-cinnamon scent was all-encompassing, filling me up and making me drunk on it. That was the only excuse I had for drawing my hands down his chest, to his waistline, to tug the thick material of his shirt from his breeches.
Pure madness, I told myself as I slipped my hands underneath to the taut skin of his abdomen. The muscles there contracted against my tentative touch and he growled against my lips. I liked that, I thought as I swallowed the sound. I wanted more, more of his madness, his kiss. My fingers traced through the soft hair on his stomach and followed it up the hardness of his chest. My fingernails scraped over the flats of his nipples and he hissed, crowding me into the hard stone wall until my hands became trapped between us.
His own hands tugged at the strings binding my bodice together until they loosened and the material hung off my shoulders. His deft fingers divested me of the top entirely and cool air swirled around me. My nipples tightened in response and that sent a wave of awareness through me. I noticed the open door one of the maids had forgotten to bring to after they left. I heard the clang of servants in the hallway beyond and realized anyone could peer in at any moment.
Noticing my distraction, Rhys tugged the cloth of my chemise under my breasts and broke the kiss, leaving me feeling lightheaded and tender-lipped. He brought his head beside mine, nuzzling me cheek to cheek, his nose scenting at my hair. My hands were freed long enough to grip his long locks and then his lips were moving down my throat and chest, leaving a tingling streak of gooseflesh in their wake.
His hands cupped my breasts and my head knocked against the stone wall, one or the other sent sparks of light over my closed lids. Rhys crouched the slightest bit to bring his head level, then took one aching tip into his mouth and sucked deeply. I arched against him, unprepared for such a deliciously wicked onslaught. One hand held the other breast, loving it gently, fingering small, featherlight circles that rivaled the slick flicks of his tongue. His free hand skirted down the line of my leg, rough fingers dug in the flesh to bring the heavy skirts of my dress and underclothes up just enough that he could find the aching heat of my center.
The cavernous room swallowed my feeble moan as his fingers traced me through the thin material of my undergarments. He finished his attentions to the other nipple and kissed a path back up my neck, abandoning the wet tips of my breasts in the cool air, too sensitive and wanting.
He took my mouth again and this time I managed to prepare myself for the hard assault of his lips. I met him with a battle of my own, pressing against him, even as his fingers searched for the closures to my underthings. When that proved too difficult, he growled again, took the center piece in his hand and rent the material with a vicious tug.
My arms wrapped around his shoulders and I gave into the kiss until I didn’t know where he ended and I began. He nudged my legs open with one powerful thigh and then his fingers delved into my wetness. I groaned into his open mouth and he broke apart to whisper, “That’s it, pet,” before he captivated me with another long, open-mouthed kiss.
One finger traced all the slippery, intimate parts of me under my dress and I was too consumed by desire to be wrought with inhibitions. A sting, then a feeling of fullness, an aching tenderness that shocked a gasp from my chest.
“Shhh,” he said against my lips, “I’ve got you, Elena.”
“Yes,” I said before he resumed the kiss and the short, pulsing movements of his finger. I heard a clatter in the hall and my gaze darted to the door, but he didn’t stop his ministrations. If anything, his fingers moved more insistently, fluttering against a part of me that shot fire over my entire body. Something inside of me sparked to life and muscles locked, starting with my toes, moving up to my calves, and then my thighs and stomach. My breath shortened, my chest ached, and he shoved my face in his neck so he could whisper in my ear.
“This body, it belongs to me. You see how it weeps for me? How it responds only to me?” He angled his finger in a come-hither gesture, tapping against the source of my desire, strumming me from the inside out and I stopped breathing entirely, my whole being focused on the movements of his hands. “This is the essence of our deal, Elena Darkmoore, future Queen of Acasia. You’ll. Be. Mine. In every way and until the end of time.”
I came apart against him, sobbing against his shoulder and his ruthless assault continued until he’d wrung every last drop of pleasure from me.
When naught but an echo was left, I looked up, my chest heaving and froze. Lord Blaque was standing in front of me, a respectable distance between us. His shirt was tucked into his waistband and his long, ebony hair was no more mussed than
when he stood in front of my court. I glanced down at my dress to cover my disheveled state and found that nary a strap or ribbon was out of place. My garments were in pristine condition and I was not pinned against the wall like I was mere moments before. The only remnant from our interlude was the riot of sensation still tumbling through me.
Lord Blaque still had a hand cupping the side of my jaw, but his eyes were no longer stormy, but calm. Had I imagined it? Had it all be some sort of fantasy? A fantastical dream?
Underneath my gown, my body still quaked from the tryst. I could still feel him inside me, remember how he felt, hot and hard, against me. It couldn’t have been my imagination.
The hand at my neck pulled me closer, and I stepped forward tentatively, afraid I might fall without the guiding presence of his palm. His scent wafted over me and my body again came to life. He rubbed his lips possessively over mine and I recalled his taste with startling clarity. I stifled the groan that rose in my chest and kept my hands between us to ward him off, even as I yearned for him.
“Damn it all to Slaine,” he bit out.
His eyes were hard as stone when he pulled away and I realized I had completely underestimated him, despite the warnings. He smiled, though it was more like a slash of teeth, and it reminded me that he wasn’t safe at all. There was a beast lurking just beneath the surface. “My dragon can’t wait to be bound to you, it seems.”
With that cryptic statement, he left me, body thrumming and mind whirling. His dragon?
What had just happened?
8
Rhysander
The following morning, I lingered longer than I should in my rooms. I was avoiding her. Which was what I should have been doing in the first place. I didn’t need to get to know her to mate her, for fuck’s sake.
Deal with the Dragon (Immortals Ever After Book 1) Page 6
