by Mary Auclair
Chapter 6
Endora stood at the door of the great feast hall, unsure if she wanted to go in or run back to her room. Her pale blue dress felt foreign on her skin, the silk and lace nothing like the crude cotton or wool she was used to. She looked at the spacious room, open to the sky, but shielded from the outside air by what appeared to be a shimmering purple sheer curtain. She knew it wasn’t, though. It was a state-of-the-art static shield, protecting the occupants from any unwanted entry while allowing the dragons to land and take off freely.
Only those who possessed the magnetic signature required were able to enter, of course. Any others would be obliterated as soon as they touched the high-powered woven lasers. It was an excellent form of protection, and Endora had to wonder what kind of danger justified such measures.
Did Draekons fight each other? The prospect of such power unleashed upon the world made her heart flutter with fear. So many questions, so many answers she didn’t have about this new world that was supposed to be hers.
She finally stepped inside the room and all conversation died down. A few hundred pairs of eyes turned in her direction, avid and curious. Endora’s heart beat faster, and her palms were covered in a cold sweat. Never before had she found herself at the center of such attention.
She just stood there, unsure where to go or what was expected of her.
“Lady Endora!” a familiar voice called, and she turned to see Dalgo, Lord Aldric’s captain of the guard, walk toward her, a warm smile on his face. “You look enchanting.”
“So many people,” Endora whispered as he neared her. “I thought this was going to be a simple ceremony.”
“If it were a regular mating, perhaps.” Dalgo shrugged, his smile never faltering. “But a Draekar mating is exceptional. Lord Aldric’s allies came from all the corners of the Earth to witness his union.”
Endora nodded, even if she felt like melting away in a puddle of tears. Everyone was so keen on celebrating this union, when all it meant to her was separation from her family for the rest of her life. “Where is he?” she asked, searching the crowd.
“He’s at the table of honor, with Rhyl.” Dalgo’s picture-perfect smile lost some of its shine, and he looked embarrassed. “He’s going to be delighted to see you.”
“Then why didn’t he come greet me himself?” She couldn’t help the tone of her voice. Wasn’t this a sign that he cared nothing about her? She was just a pawn in his High Lord games, not even worth a greeting.
Dalgo winced, then passed a hand through his military short cut blond hair. “You sit with us at the table of honor.” He guided Endora to the back of the feast hall, where a long, heavy table was set.
Aldric sat at the very end, regal in his High Lord’s clothing of pure white silk and leather. His perfect hair fell on his shoulders and his hypnotic silver eyes shone in the low light like jewelry. He looked just like the first time she had laid eyes on him: a remote, statue-like, perfect man, radiating strength and power.
Rhyl was lying down behind him. The dragon snored softly, steam rising from his nostrils, apparently uninterested and unconcerned by the commotion going around him. She could have hugged him for that.
Endora’s stare caught Aldric’s. He watched her from the head of the table, as unmoving as his dragon, his surreal eyes fixed on her like on prey. His mouth was curved in a sensually cruel line, and he sat with his back straight in his chair, betraying nothing of his feelings—if he even had feelings. She wasn’t sure anymore.
Her blood boiled at the sight of him. Her anger was fed by another, less familiar sensation as she neared the table. Her nipples peaked, hard and aroused, and every inch of her body was on high alert. Whatever her anger and resentment, her body betrayed her as the tingling of attraction sparked low in her belly. Her eyes caught on his mouth, on the hard, unforgiving line of his lips. He was going to kiss her again, in front of all those witnesses, to seal their union.
She wondered what it would feel like, kissing him again. Would he be as passionate as last night, or as cold as the High Lord? She didn’t think she could bear him being cold and detached, not now.
Aldric’s stare followed her as she walked to the table. Those eyes, they were cold like the metal of a blade. She was acutely aware of his eyes as she moved, the silk gown showing the movement of her body as she walked, the low bodice betraying the fast heaving of her bosom.
It made Endora want to gnaw on her nails, but she refrained because of the extensive manicure Junco had given her. She didn’t want to upset the woman by destroying her work so soon. Instead, she opted to fidget with the lace fringe around her skirt. She twisted and pulled on the delicate, pale blue fabric, not caring if she ruined it before the end of the evening. She was never going to wear it again, anyway.
Dalgo pulled out a chair for Endora at the end of the long table, facing Aldric. He waited until she sat to walk over to his High Lord and sit at his right. Endora was left alone in a sea of strangers who cast curious, avid looks at her. Not a single other human was present, all the others were Delradon or Draekon.
“Are you the Lady Endora?” a small voice called from her right.
Endora turned to stare at a young child, a girl a few years younger than her Tallie. At first she thought the girl a human, but then the child lifted large, telltale platinum eyes up to her. Her eyes were those of a Draekon, but the color of her skin was a soft honey, one Endora had never seen on any of the aliens. Her jet-black hair, lustrous and striking, was fastened on top of her head in a complex Delradon fashion, exposing her ears, which were small, with pointed tips. Otherwise, the child had a round, soft body. The small face turned to her, so vivacious and mesmerizing.
In a flash, Endora understood. She was a mixed blood child, the product of a human and Draekon union. She was a stunning girl, and her heart-shaped face split in a wide, warm smile that twisted Endora’s guts.
“Yes, I am.” Endora smiled at the girl. “And what is your name?”
“I’m Shari, and this is Rasha,” the girl answered, then pointed at a tiny dragon, no bigger than a Labrador retriever, lying down at her feet. “Do you like my dress?”
Shari got to her feet and gave a fast twirl, showing off the green dress lined with pearls and bows. She giggled, then turned eager eyes to Endora.
“It’s very pretty,” Endora said. “For a very pretty girl.”
“Thank you.” Shari bowed while lifting the side of her skirts in a perfectly executed curtsey. Shari stepped closer to Endora and looked at her face, then her hair, then reverently patted the fine lace of her blue gown. “You’re so beautiful. I’m glad you’ll be my new mother.”
Endora gasped, unable to say anything. She blinked, then stared at the child’s features. She found nothing that reminded her of Aldric, but that didn’t mean anything.
“Is Lord Aldric your father?” Endora asked Shari.
“No, he’s my uncle. I think.” Shari shrugged. “I came to live here with Rasha when my daddy died.”
“I see.” Endora nodded to encourage her to talk more. “And where is your mommy?”
“My mommy died when I was still in her belly.” Shari looked at the ground in front of her feet. “She fell asleep and didn’t wake up. It was my fault.”
“Of course not.” Endora’s heart surged and she wrapped her arms around the frail child. “None of it is your fault. I’m sure your mommy loved you very much, and that she wouldn’t want you to think like that.”
Shari didn’t answer, so Endora pulled away and gazed into the child’s eyes. So alien, with their platinum shine, yet so human in their fragility. Endora wiped her fingers across the child’s cheek, cleaning the tears away.
“I hope you won’t have any babies,” Shari mumbled, looking down again. “That way, you won’t get sick.”
Endora pulled the child to her chest again and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She patted the shining black hair. “Don’t worry.” She whispered the words in her ear. “I won’t get s
ick.”
Shari hugged her close, then nodded in Endora’s embrace. She opened her arms and Shari returned to her place, sniffing her tears back, but smiling.
Endora watched the child, a familiar knot in her stomach. This was the danger lurking ahead for her. The Draekon-human pregnancy was dangerous, and Shari was a living example of the risks Endora was taking. She might develop a toxic reaction to the fetus, one that would lead to a coma, then death. That was what had happened to Endora’s own mother. The tale was a common one, although the Delradon authorities didn’t like to publicize it. Her throat constricted at the thought of what would happen to Tallie if she were to die of toxicity. At least she was going to receive the payment long before then. In a flash of maternal instinct, she wondered if Aldric would be a good father to her baby if she were to die.
Her eyes rose to lock with Aldric’s smoldering stare. She was certain he hadn’t missed a moment of her interaction with Shari, and wondered what sort of man let a child be introduced to his new wife like that.
One who doesn’t have a heart, Endora thought.
His gaze was still fixed on her across the length of the table, and it was beginning to make her uncomfortable. He didn’t seem interested in the dizzying display of food set up for the guests, or the exquisite juices and wines being served. All he did was stare at her, a closed expression on his face.
It unnerved her. It made her want to toss something his way just to see if he was going to react.
She didn’t, though. Endora turned to face her neighbor, a chatty Delradon woman who was only too happy to entertain her, telling her about the customs of the Draekons and the symbolic importance of the giving of the dragon’s scale. Endora dutifully nodded and answered, all the while ignoring Aldric’s stare. It wasn’t easy, but she managed to fill her stomach, and after her second cup of delicious wine, she was bubbly and giddy, talking with her companions with enthusiasm.
That should show Aldric that she wasn’t going to be so easily intimidated.
Suddenly, lovely music started, and the guests started to chat more animatedly.
“The ceremony is about to start,” her chatty neighbor stage-whispered in her ear.
Endora found herself unable to answer. Her indifferent façade fell down like the charade it was, and she turned wide eyes to Aldric. He was still staring at her but his face wasn’t expressionless anymore.
Every inch of his features was drawn with a very male hunger, and she felt the tug of fear mixed with arousal bite in equal measure in her flesh. Now familiar warmth spread though her body and she felt herself respond to him, despite her best efforts. There was nothing to be done, he was drawing on her most female instinct, making her melt at the very idea of being touched by him.
Rhyl, who until then had lain in perfect indifference, shook his massive head, then rose on his legs, casting a circular glance around the room. All the guests stared at the magnificent white dragon, a mix of awe and fear on their faces. Endora noticed Rhyl was the only dragon present in the room—except for Rasha, who was sitting by Shari, as entranced by Rhyl as the rest. Rhyl lifted his huge wings, the span of which reached the far corners of the room, and locked his pale, supernatural gaze on Endora.
Then a low, soothing sound floated out of his mouth, invading the air like a caress. This was the beginning of the ceremony.
Endora felt herself searching for Aldric’s gaze.
She started and turned when she found him standing right behind her. His height forced her to tilt her head back and his chest was so close, all she had to do to touch him was reach up. Endora gripped her own hands to prevent them from moving. His handsomely carved face was set in hard lines and his liquid metal eyes blazed with unveiled desire.
Without speaking, Aldric extended a hand to her.
She stared at it for a few seconds, then put her hand in his larger palm. A murmur of excitement passed among the guests, and Endora found she couldn’t look away. Silently, Aldric guided her toward Rhyl, who was still chanting his enthralling song. They stopped in the beast’s shadow, so close, his blazing breath warmed the naked skin of her shoulders.
“You look remarkable tonight,” Aldric said in a low, husky voice, barely audible over the dragon’s song. “Without doubt the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“Thank you.” Endora felt her cheeks burn, and a stubborn smile spread on her lips despite her best efforts not to.
“Put one hand on Rhyl and the other in mine,” Aldric said, putting one palm flat on the opalescent scales on Rhyl’s chest.
Endora did as she was told, and was shocked at the strange energy she felt passing from the dragon to her, then Aldric, flowing in a circle through them. It was like ants on ice, coursing through her veins, entering her cells and leaving in a frenzy. Her breathing accelerated, and she was tempted to pull her hand back but Aldric’s stare made her keep still. This was important, the connection to the dragon.
“I, Aldric Darragon, High Lord of Katanie, take you, Endora Papineau, for my Draekarra, until death unties us.” Aldric said the simple words of the Draekar mating oath, his strong voice reaching over the crowd and to every ear in the room.
Endora latched on to his gaze, knowing it was her turn to say the words. The words that would tie her life to him without the possibility of going back. The words that would sever her from Tallie forever. The words that would save Tallie’s life.
“I, Endora Papineau,” she recited the words she’d learned earlier that day, “take you, Lord Aldric Darragon, for my Draekar, until death unties us.”
Rhyl’s song increased in intensity, its long, slow caress evoking erotic, forbidden thoughts in her mind. Aldric’s fingers gripped one of Rhyl’s scales. The opalescent, white scale was a tad larger than his hand, and twice as long. Almost too fast for the eye to see, he snapped it from the dragon’s chest. Where the scale had been pulled out, a single drop of dragon blood shone, perfectly red against the white of the scales.
Aldric picked up the drop with his index finger, then turned to Endora. She was shivering from head to toe despite the dragon’s warmth, and an electric shock traveled down her spine as Aldric’s fingers, covered in the dragon’s blood, touched her lips. He spread the blood on her skin, his touch lingering.
It was an intimate act, and the symbolization of a union that involved more than just Aldric and herself. It made her a part of the bond between Aldric and his dragon, tying their lives to each other permanently through the dragon’s vitalem, his life-force.
“With this dragon blood, my life for yours and my nights by your side,” Aldric said. “May our days run long and our nights be warm.”
Endora felt the words etching on her bones, somewhere deep and hidden, where her soul’s most secret desire resided. This stranger, this man her body craved, had made a vow to her that nobody else ever had. Before she could formulate a thought or reflect upon what was happening, Aldric’s hand went around her head and cradled her neck in a tender embrace, then his other hand closed around her waist. He pulled her closer and soon, their bodies touched. She was swallowed whole by his presence, by the tangible power of his desire for her.
The crowd faded to a remote fact in the back of her mind.
Endora was entranced by Aldric’s smoldering eyes as he bent his head to kiss her. Their lips touched, and there was a release of an energy accumulated somewhere far and deep. She shut her eyes, the feeling overwhelming her senses.
Aldric’s mouth became urgent, his lips crushing hers in consuming passion. A devastating urge spread warmth to every inch of her body, and Endora felt her control slip out of her reach, like something being snatched away. Her lips parted in invitation, and Aldric’s tongue invaded her mouth. The taste of the dragon blood covered her tongue, but she wasn’t disgusted by it. It tasted strong and spicy, more like a liquor than like blood, and it made her melt in his embrace. This was the bond, the very essence of their union, the unbreakable tie between herself and Aldric.
Thei
r tongues slid on each other, and Endora moaned. The sound of her surrender seemed to spread oil on Aldric’s fire, and he crushed her against his body, molding her to his hard, muscled chest and all the way down to his erection. His other hand gripped her neck, forcing her backward, leaving her no choice but to grip his shoulders. She was completely at his mercy, hanging from his body while he took possession of her.
His kiss deepened and his hand traveled down her waist to her ass, where he pressed her against his sex.
His appetite was so ravenous, she wondered if he would take her right there in this room, in front of the assembled guests. If he chose to do so, she wouldn’t have the strength to resist.
Then Aldric withdrew.
Their gazes locked. His face was a landscape of rage and desire, wild and dangerous. His pupils had morphed into two vertical lines, betraying his alien nature. The bones of his face were sharper, the angles more defined. He was something else, a beast in a man’s clothing. His chest heaved fast and deep, and his hands still gripped her close, like he couldn’t bear to let her withdraw from him. Slowly, his hand left her neck, slid down and glided over the bodice of her dress, gripping the delicate fabric in his strong fist. He clearly fought his desire to rip the clothing from her body and bare her.
Endora swallowed. She blinked, and became aware of the crowd once more. She glanced sideways to see the child, Shari, staring at them with a stricken expression on her juvenile features. Behind her, Dalgo watched, his eyes both wary and awed.
It was the sight of the child that made her regain her wits.
Endora squirmed and pushed Aldric away. When he didn’t let go, she turned and locked eyes with him. A low growl grew in his throat at her movement, and his embrace tightened instead of loosening. His eyes reduced to slits as he watched her.
“Let me go,” she whispered faintly. “Shari’s scared, don’t you see? This isn’t a sight for a child.”
