Daughter of the Dragon

by Alicia Montgomery

  As if on cue, the beast—The Great One, as the people of Zhobghadi called it—roared inside him. Heat burned under his skin, and he knew his own eyes were glowing silver, the same color as his beast’s scales.

  “And I can do my duties during the Easifat without being king. There’s no need for me to wear the crown.”

  “There is every need.” Arvin stepped back. “But it’s not my business. I am only one of your subjects, after all.”

  Karim threaded his fingers through his hair. “You know you are more than that. Otherwise, neither Father or I would not have appointed you to your position.” As Vizier, Arvin ran the day-to-day operations in the palace, similar to a Chief of Staff. When the old Vizier had retired ten years ago, it was Karim who suggested Arvin for the position, and King Nassir had agreed. His cousin had been Vizier ever since.

  “And I’m grateful for the honor.” Arvin nodded his head in a small bow. “You only have a few hours to sleep before your first meeting.”

  “I’ll be fine. An hour’s all I need.” Indeed, that was one of the perks of sharing his body with the creature. Even in human form, he could draw strength and stamina from the beast if needed, and he could recover from fatigue and injury quicker than any ordinary human. “But I am eager to clean up.”

  “How about some food? I can have Ramin bring you something.”

  “I’ll be fine. But …” he glanced around, “where is the boy, anyway?”

  “He’s hardly a boy at seventeen years old,” Arvin said. “Hmm … he’s usually around here, waiting for you. I’ve never seen a more loyal valet. But I suppose you inspire that in him. He idolizes you.”

  Karim let out a grunt. “I should have never let my father convince me to take him on.”

  “And what would you have done?” Arvin asked. “Toss him out on the street?”

  “Ramin is a ward of the royal family,” Karim pointed out. “He could have done anything with his life once he finished his schooling here, like studied abroad, or opened a business.”

  “Yet he chose to stay and shadow you as your valet. You know he’s only waiting until he’s old enough to join the military. When he’s not serving you, he spends his time training and building his body. He’s nearly as large as you at that age. You know he’s going to apply to be part of The Almoravid,” Arvin said, mentioning the elite guard who protected the royal family of Zhobghadi.

  “It is not a glamorous life.”

  “Would you blame him though?” Arvin asked. “He only wants to repay you. You saved him from—”

  “Bah.” Karim waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “I’m tired. I’m sure the boy will turn up when I awaken.” He didn’t bother to say goodbye to Arvin but marched into his rooms without a backward glance. It was his privilege, after all, as crown prince.

  Heading straight to the opulent bath area, he decided against a long soak in the huge tub and opted for a quick shower instead. After finishing his business, he leaned against the marble and gold sink, looking up at his reflection in the mirror. Weary cerulean blue eyes looked back at him. Eyes that he got from his mother.

  Not liking where his thoughts were going, he turned away and headed back to his bedroom. It was dark, and a shadow fell over the enormous bed. Numerous soft pillows formed lumps under the silk sheets, but the bed was big enough that he found an empty spot where he was able to lay down and stretch out. In seconds, his eyes shut, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

  But it wasn’t dreamless. No, he definitely did dream. And what a delicious dream it was—that of curling up against a soft, warm body. Of the scent of something sweet, like the rich desserts he loved as a child, but with a touch of burned sugar. And plush flesh pressed up against his hardening cock. It had been too long since he’d had a woman, which was probably why the dream was so vivid.

  His dream woman turned, sighing softly. Again, it seemed so real that he could feel the warmth of her breath. Wanting more, he moved his head a fraction of an inch forward, until his lips met velvety ones.

  A spark of electricity nearly made him pull back, but The Great One awoke in him.

  More. Mine. Ours.

  The voice was alien in his head, but at the same time, not. He’d had the creature—a dragon, his mother had called it—inside him since he could remember, but he’d never heard it speak.

  Claim.

  Strange, but that’s when he realized it wasn’t a dream.

  Still, he could not stop himself. He was like a man dying of thirst in the desert who found an oasis. He kissed—no, devoured—those lips like they were his salvation. And they responded back in kind. Or their owner did. Feminine hands crept up his bare chest, fingers gripped his shoulders as his tongue snaked out and parted her lips to taste more of her sweetness.

  A few women had snuck into his bed before, and usually, he threw out anyone uninvited. But he just couldn’t bring himself to stop. Moving his body over hers, he pinned her to the mattress. She didn’t protest his weight; in fact, she moaned into his mouth and spread her legs to accommodate him. There was only fabric between them, which was probably her clothes as he was naked. His cock strained against her, and she gasped.

  “What—I—no!”

  He blinked, the words making him freeze. Limbs disentangled from him, and he saw a figure quickly crawl away to the edge of the bed, just as he surged off the mattress and slammed his palm on the light switch.

  “Who the heck are you?” she shouted in English.

  Karim didn’t know if he was going to laugh or shout. “Who am I? I should be asking you that, seeing as you are in my bed.”

  “Your … bed?”

  With the room filled with light, he was finally able to see the dream—or rather, not-dream woman. Light brown hair tumbled down her shoulders like ribbons of rich toffee. Tanned skin that he knew was soft to the touch. Pouty pink lips that were still swollen from his kisses. But what made him momentarily forget who he was were those eyes—a green so light they were almost yellow.

  “Yes, my bed.” He managed to scrounge up every bit of authority he could muster. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

  “I’m—” Her mouth opened wide. Even under her tan he could see her flush, and those pale eyes turned away from him. “Um, would you mind putting on some … pants or something?”

  He glanced down, only realizing that he was naked as the day he was born, not to mention, his erection was practically jutting out like the tower of Babel. Quickly, he grabbed the first thing he could—a pillow—and planted it over his hips. “Now, tell me who you are, and how you came here.”

  “I …” She shook her head. “I’m Professor Desiree Desmond Creed, from New York University.”

  An American?

  “My archeological team and I were on a site just forty miles outside the Pakistan border. I was going for a walk and then …” A gasp escaped her mouth, and she ran her fingers through her hair. After checking her fingers, she let out a sigh of relief. “I was hit in the head by … I mean, I was injured and then the sandstorm came before I passed out.”

  Injured? The Great One roared in displeasure.

  Opening his mouth, he took a deep breath. When he focused his sense of smell and taste and ignored her delicious sweet scent, he realized that it was there, tinging the air. The scent of dried blood. Someone had hurt her! He wasn’t sure if the growl that was rattling in his chest was from The Great One or him.

  “Then I woke up … here?” She glanced around. “Where am I again?”

  “You’re in Zhobghadi,” he said.

  “Zhobghadi?” She cocked her head at him. “But how?”

  “You don’t remember how you got here?”

  “No … I mean.” Her eyes shut tight. “Maybe … I felt like I was being carried. And there was a long corridor, and I thought I saw something silver on the walls shaped like a … snake?”

  He knew exactly what she was describing. And the one person who could possibly have brought her into his
room. “Wait here.”

  “Wait? What do you mean—”

  Turning on his heel, he didn’t wait for her to finish as he strode out of his bedroom and crossed the living area to the main door. Yanking it open, he barked to the member of The Almoravid standing guard, “Find me the boy, and bring him inside.”

  The guard saluted him with a fist over his heart, then bowed as he ran down the hallway. It didn’t take him long to come back, pulling along another figure, and pushed him inside the living room before closing the door with a loud thud.

  The boy—almost a man, Karim reminded himself—looked up at him, his midnight eyes growing wide. He didn’t need to ask. The look of guilt was plastered all over the young man’s face.

  “What have you done?”

  Ramin’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his neck. “Highness. I had no choice.”

  “No choice?” Karim thundered. “You brought a woman—an outsider—into the city during our most sacred time and snuck her into the palace using the azdaha passage?” The tunnel that ran under the palace and led out to of the city walls was a secret that only the royal family knew about. The woman had accurately described the long mural that stretched along its walls—the first Great One, with its long silvery body—which clued him in on who could have brought her in. “I told you about that passage in confidence!”

  “And I have not told anyone,” he protested. “I thought she was unconscious the entire time, Your Highness.”

  “And you brought her here? Why?”

  Ramin’s youthful face had turned dark, and the shadows he thought were banished from his eyes had returned. “She was in danger. I had to help her.”

  “In danger?”

  “She was being attacked. I pulled the man off her, and I took her far away. He … he would have dishonored her the way my mother was ... was… almost …”

  Fury rushed through his veins like the fire and flames The Great One spewed. Memories rushed back from nearly a decade ago. When he had been sneaking out of the palace and a blood-curdling scream had brought him to a house down in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the city. That man—Ramin’s great-uncle—had beaten the boy’s newly-widowed mother to death for refusing his advances. And Ramin had witnessed it all and would have been his great-uncle’s next victim had Karim not intervened and had the man arrested and sent to prison.

  And someone had tried to do it to that woman. No wonder the boy went crazy, the memories probably triggering him. By the fires of Gibil, he didn’t even know her, yet he wanted to burn the world to ashes for what she had nearly suffered. And find the man who hurt her and let The Great One devour him.

  “She needed help. Protection.” Ramin gulped and lowered his gaze. “Highness.”

  “And so, you brought her here.”

  “You will protect her. The Great One protects all.” Ramin dropped to his knees. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

  Karim let out a string of curses under his breath. Arvin had been right—Ramin idolized him, for getting justice for his mother’s death, for taking him in as his ward and providing for him. And now, he thought Karim could save everyone, too. He wanted to laugh. He was a prince yes, and the bearer of The Great One, but in truth, Karim knew, he was no noble protector. He was just another man.

  But what to do now?

  “How did you find her anyway? She said she was right outside our borders.”

  “I was out, Highness.”

  “Out?” Karim roared. “You know you are supposed to stay in the city just before the Easifat! What if the sandstorms arrived and you were locked outside?”

  “I made it just in time. I saw you flying overhead and knew I had some time.” Ramin looked up at him to meet his gaze. “Besides, the Almoravid patrol the borders during the Easifat.”

  “They are trained to do so and carry the necessary equipment to ensure they can navigate safely. You are not one of them.” His teeth were gnashing together so hard, he thought he would grind them to the gum. “And you have not gone through the blooding ceremony,” he said, referring to the ritual that all of the Almoravid endured to ensure they could effectively serve the royal family. “You could have been hurt.”

  “I took every precaution, Highness.” He slipped something out of his pocket—sand goggles that were specially made for sandstorms, as well as a face mask to cover the nose and mouth. “The goggles allowed me to make my way back, and I put the mask on her to protect her lungs while I carried her back.”

  “How did you even—Never mind.” Ramin was smart and resourceful, so he wasn’t surprised he had gotten his hands on the special gear. And he had also saved that woman’s life. The woman who was still in his bed, looking vulnerable, and at the same time, so alluring. Mentally, he shook his head. That was not the point. “Outsiders are forbidden in Zhobghadi during this time.”

  Ramin didn’t say anything, but merely prostrated himself. “Forgive me, Highness. Don’t send me to the dungeon, please.”

  Karim sighed. “Get up. Come, you have put us into this situation, and you will help me fix it.”

  Chapter Three

  Hanford on top of her. The blow to her head. Passing out. The sandstorm. Being lifted up. Her head knocking around and opening her eyes. There was no more sandstorm around her, but rather, she was inside. It was dark and humid, and the only light she could see were silver scales on the wall, shaped like a long, gigantic snake.

  Deedee massaged the small knot on the side of her head. It wasn’t bleeding and should be fully healed in an hour, so there was no need to try and soothe it, but it was like doing so would help her remember how she got here in the first place. Everything after she passed out was blurry, but bits and pieces of it was coming back. Someone had carried her here and put her into bed.

  His bed.

  That tall, hulking man with dark hair and those bright blue eyes.

  A strange but vibrant chord struck into her as she thought of him. And the way his thick beard tickled her skin. And the way his mouth moved over hers, and his body.

  “Ugh.” She groaned and buried her face in the pillow. Now, I really thought I’d never be in a mess like this. Actually, in this case, mess was a complete understatement. Somehow, between passing out and waking up, she had been transported to another country.

  Zhobghadi … Zhobghadi … Zhobghadi … Why did that sound so familiar?

  She scratched at the back of her head. That first injury now healed enough so it didn’t bleed, but it did itch like a motherlover. Then she remembered her research.

  Zhobghadi was a small, independent kingdom between the border of Afghanistan and Pakistan. She had wanted permission to dig in its northwest territory, but she didn’t even know where to ask. Indeed, the notoriously xenophobic country had no embassy, no website, no presence abroad except for trade offices that dealt with their number one product—a pure silver metal that was used in 90 percent of the world’s manufacturing industry, making them an extremely wealthy little city-state. When she tried to call those offices, they told her that it was impossible to get a visa or permission to enter their borders, especially when their king had recently died, and the entire country was in mourning. It was obvious she wasn’t going to get anywhere, so she dropped it.

  But how did she get here, and in the bed of—

  A delicious shiver ran through her, and her cheeks felt like they were on fire. That man. Oh. Did she really … did they … Her nipples tightened at the memory of his mouth and his body on top of hers. And his splendid, naked body—all tanned taut skin over rippling muscles, broad chest, narrow waist and down his—

  The door flew open again, and Deedee knew it was him coming back. Her wolf did too, and it let out a needy whine.

  Not knowing what to do, she scrambled to her feet. Oh dear. She shook her head at her disheveled appearance. Though it was futile, her hands automatically smoothed down the wrinkled linen of her blouse. When she looked up, her gaze crashed with blue eyes the color of the sky. Dust seemed
to swirl in her mouth, and her mind lost all thought. It was only now she realized how handsome he was, even with that great big scowl on his face.

  “It seems I have solved the mystery of how you got here.” His hot, smoky accent made her knees weak, and she had to lock them to keep from melting into a puddle on the ground. “My ward said he found you in the desert.”

  When he pulled someone from behind him, she realized they were not alone. Though he was taller and larger than her, his boyish face gave away his age—he couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen. He looked at her curiously, though he didn’t say a word or move a muscle.

  “Ramin carried you here, to save you, he said. And brought you to my room without my knowledge. He said you were attacked.” His voice sounded tight for a moment, and she thought she saw his eyes flicker to a dark silver color.“By a man who tried—”

  “Thank you, Ramin.” She gave the teen a weak smile. “I would have been lost under the sands without you.” Stepping forward, she offered her hand. When he didn’t do or say anything, she dropped it. “Do you speak English?”

  “He understands some,” hot scowling man said. “But does not know enough to speak it.” He added something in a strange language that made the teen blush.

  “Um, so, well, thank you so much for allowing me to stay. I mean, you didn’t know … but … I really should be going now. My team will be looking for me. Perhaps you have a cellphone or computer I can borrow so I can send them a message?”

  “No.”

  What kind of place was this? Maybe he was exaggerating, but then again, she had to remember not every place on earth had cell service or technology like they had in New York. “Oh. Maybe you can help me find some transport so I can get back to my team or to the nearest embassy? I’m happy to pay for—”

  “No.” His voice was rougher now.

  “Excuse me?” She straightened to full height, which was nearly six feet if she stretched her chin up, but that was unlikely to intimidate him, because he still had a good eight or so inches over her.