Agony ripped through Larkan, and he roared his protest. As if that were the signal Rand had been waiting for, he launched himself at Larkan, knife poised and fingers curled into claws. But Larkan was fast, turning into Rand’s blow and hurling him to the ground. He didn’t want to kill his friend—he’d beg for Rand’s life if he had to—but he needed to defeat him beyond all doubt. Anything less was a prison sentence.
Quick as thought, Rand rolled back to his feet. He’d dropped the knife, but it had spun out of reach. Rand barely seemed to notice. Eyes were crazy with battle-lust, he reached for Larkan’s throat. This time Larkan wasn’t fast enough to twist away, and the two men fell to the ground in a mighty struggle. Larkan drove the heel of his hand into Rand’s nose and felt cartilage break. Rand bellowed with pain as blood spurted down his face.
And then Rand changed. Talons sprouted from his fingers as Larkan dodged a slashing blow. Rand shimmered in the circle of torchlight, almost fading from view as he transformed in the space of a heartbeat. It happened too fast to see, but suddenly he was there, the bronze-and-ivory beast that had chased Larkan on the mountainside. The remnants of his clothes, torn during the rapid change, tumbled to his taloned feet. His long, horned head reared up, jaws opening to reveal scythelike fangs. Rand’s amber eyes glowered down at Larkan, alight with fury.
By the Flame, he hated mating rituals.
“Larkan!”
Larkan turned at the cry, his skin already crawling with horror. Somehow he knew what was coming, and a single glance confirmed his worst fears. Keltie stood at the edge of the battlefield, an ax in one hand and awestruck terror on her face. Once again, she had come to his aid.
Love and shock stole his breath. She really shouldn’t have done that.
Now she was one small human in a pit of beasts.
* * *
Keltie had seen a dragon before, which was bizarre enough, but it wasn’t the same as seeing someone change into one. She stared in awe, a weightless sensation swamping her. It was as if she’d lost feeling in her limbs, and all she could sense was the pounding of her heart.
Larkan was at her side in an instant. “What are you doing here?”
Keltie heard him, but her mind was snagged on the sight in front of her. The bronze dragon was terrifying, but he was also beautiful. Up close, his hide was supple and smooth, tiny iridescent scales reflecting as if they were a thousand mirrors. His back and neck, darker in color, were actually downed with a feathery coat. The creature was lovely—and deadly. There was no missing the ferocity of his amber eyes.
Slowly, she became aware of the buzz of the crowd. The trial had been interrupted, and everyone in the place had something to say about it. Many of them sounded angry, but she didn’t care. For once in her life, she wasn’t backing down. She had an ax and she was staking her claim. Gasping in a breath, she willed herself to form words. “You can’t be in this fight alone, Larkan. You belong to me.”
His eyes had gone wild. “Keltie, get out of the arena! You’re not a dragon.”
Of course he was right, but that sounded too much like Switzer telling her she didn’t belong in his academic circles. “Better to be stubborn than a coward,” she said darkly. “And don’t tell me to go home.”
Larkan gave her a sharp look. “Then aim for the extremities. You will not kill Rand, but you do have a hope of driving a blade through his skin. And watch the tail.”
Keltie nodded, getting a better grip on the ax and feeling as if a door had just burst wide. “Understood.”
The dragon’s huge head swung down in a graceful arc, sniffing at Keltie with huge, wet nostrils. Larkan faced off against the beast, cuffing him across the jaw with his fist. “She is not for you!”
Rand snorted in what might have been amusement and gave his great head a shake. Keltie estimated that the punch would have felled a bull. Cold sweat trickled down the small of her back. For a long, frightening moment, no one moved.
Nadiana broke the cut-glass silence. The queen gave a sharp command and Rand swung his head her way, lifting his long neck until it was even with the stone platform where the queen stood. To Keltie’s astonishment, the figure in green stepped onto the dragon’s head, delicately balancing between his short ivory horns while the creature lowered her to the ground. The queen jumped lightly down.
The effect on the combatants was clear. Rand remained with his head bowed low, and Larkan knelt stiffly. But the queen wasn’t interested in them. Instead, the veiled figure turned toward Keltie.
Keltie felt a moment of confusion, unsure whether to kneel or curtsy or fall flat on her face, but then she gave up. She didn’t bow for anyone, and with a giddy skip of her stomach she guessed she was probably going to die anyway. No point in groveling now.
“You challenge me,” said the queen. “You do not show respect.”
The words startled Keltie. She hadn’t been expecting anyone besides Larkan to speak English. “You have to earn it first.”
Queen Nadiana laughed, sounding oddly girlish. She pointed toward Larkan. “You fight me for him, yes?”
“Keltie, no!” Larkan exclaimed. He grabbed her hand and rose to his feet. “My queen, this is not right. A human stands no chance against one of us. Not by herself.”
“But she said you belong to her. Therefore, she steals from me, and I fight for what is mine. That is the way of dragons.” The queen’s accent was thicker than Larkan’s, but Keltie had no problem following her words.
The bronze dragon gave a low, rumbling snarl. He had a stake in this game, too.
With a graceful gesture, Nadiana pulled off her spangled veil, revealing eyes as green as Larkan’s. Suddenly the room was in an uproar, as if they had never seen their monarch’s face. “I answer your challenge, human, and you will pay for your insolence.”
Keltie caught her breath. Nadiana was young and lovely, her skin a fair, creamy tone that went with her tumble of fiery hair. Keltie caught the lift of Larkan’s eyebrows, and she suddenly wanted to slug the she-dragon right in her perfect nose. “Then bring it on.”
The queen’s lips pursed as she glanced down at where Larkan’s fingers wrapped around Keltie’s. Then Nadiana whirled to face the rest of the amphitheater. “Rand, Falroth, Barnto, Kaythran!”
Three more warriors jumped forward from where they stood on the sidelines, running to obey the queen while the dragon crouched in readiness beside her. Nadiana pointed to Larkan, giving a curt command. Larkan’s fingers tightened on Keltie’s hand, almost crushing her. Keltie didn’t need a translator to figure out that the warriors were coming for Larkan. Nadiana was separating them. It’s me she wants to hurt, not him. Not yet, at least. Not while I have her attention. Keltie pulled her hand out of Larkan’s, falling back as he reached to grab her again.
“No! It’s my turn to fight,” she said, ignoring the flash of his eyes. “She’s not going to let us go until she and I have a chat.”
Just to be sure the chat stayed polite, Keltie took a firmer grip on the ax.
“My queen, please don’t do this,” he said in a low voice, shoving aside his captors. “This is an impossible battle.”
“Don’t argue, lord of dragons,” Nadiana said in a cool voice. “There is nothing you can do. As your human says, we must settle this.”
Larkan bellowed a protest but four against one was too many. A second guardsman turned to dragon form, towering over Larkan in a spread of midnight wings.
Keltie’s courage deserted her and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. “They’ll burn him!” she cried to the queen.
“We don’t use fire in the trials. It makes the fights too short.”
Keltie stared at the queen. “Is this a sport to you people?”
“We are not like you.” Nadiana turned to Keltie, her bright green eyes mere hostile slits.
Dragons are predators. Surely the most dangerous anywhere on the planet, and yet they remain invisible. Keltie was frozen in fear, but a small part of her ached to understand. She’d st
udied enough ancient cultures to realize something didn’t add up. “Why do you keep your people down here in the dark?”
Nadiana gave a smile worthy of a reptile. “I hear humans are endlessly curious, but clearly they are no more clever than dragons.”
“Is this a guessing game? Are dragons like sphinxes, addicted to riddles?” Keltie lifted her ax. The queen’s smile was a warning.
“Not a riddle, but a truth handed down from the time when the Old Ones flew into the rift. It is easier to wear the crown beneath the mountain than to cast a net over the entire sky.”
And Keltie understood. As long as the dragons were trapped, the queen could control them. They were here because the royalty wanted to keep their power. All at once she wasn’t afraid—she was furious. “You ugly lizard!”
Nadiana’s eyes flashed. “Watch your tongue, human!”
“No,” Keltie shot back. “My odds against you might be bad, but I won’t be silent.”
Suddenly the queen was a giant green dragon, fanged jaws swooping down on Keltie. But she was ready. She swung the ax, aiming for the queen’s sinuous throat. The blade struck, and Keltie felt it bite into flesh. The queen recoiled with an earsplitting shriek, rising up on her hind legs. Blood splashed to the ground, thick, hot drops barely missing Keltie. It was no more than a scratch—the ax was too small and Keltie too weak to do real damage—but it had stung the queen.
Rand bellowed. The crowd roared and screamed, but they didn’t interfere. These battles were part of their rites.
The smell of the blood, coppery and raw, invaded Keltie’s brain. A surge of fire ran through her. She’d made the queen feel her defiance.
Nadiana hissed, her long, forked tongue flicking the air.
Keltie danced, never staying in one place for more than a second. She could tell it frustrated the queen, just as her insults did. “Tell me, do you use a lot of moisturizer on all those scales?”
The queen’s head snaked again, snapping the air where Keltie had been a moment before.
She could hear the males fighting, the roars getting louder as another, and then another, took to dragon form. Keltie didn’t dare look. A moment’s lapse could mean her life. All she could do was hold Larkan close in her heart.
Another snap, another miss. If Keltie stayed close to the dragon’s body, she would be harder to catch. And the longer she could make Nadiana chase her, the more she could wear the queen down. She couldn’t beat a dragon with strength, but she might with sheer, dogged persistence.
Nadiana crouched, twisting her head around in an attempt to chomp Keltie in half. It was an awkward angle, but it would have worked if Keltie hadn’t scrabbled up her tail, finding the one spot between the dragon’s shoulders that it couldn’t quite reach. Nadiana reared up, clearly trying to dump Keltie to the ground, but Keltie grabbed the feathery coat on the dragon’s back with her free hand. Nadiana fell forward again, and Keltie pulled herself up to gain a better seat. She’d ridden horses and elephants and even a camel once. A dragon was just one more beast.
Nadiana stretched her pale green wings. The surge of muscle and tendon nearly threw Keltie off, but she lay down on the queen’s bony spine and clung for dear life. That worked fine until Nadiana tried to roll. Keltie jumped off just in time, scrambling clear of the dragon’s body—only to find herself trapped between the queen and the first row of stone seats.
Nadiana hissed, a burst of smoke and flame scorching the air.
“I thought you said flaming your opponent was poor sportsmanship!” Keltie dove between the dragon’s legs and ran, taking a swipe at the long spiked tail on the way through. Nadiana squealed, thrashing her wounded tail like a whip. It caught Keltie in the ribs and sent her tumbling across the ground. She lost the ax, skidding to a halt. Stunned, Keltie tried to suck in air, but she’d been winded. The most she could manage was a sickly wheeze.
She wasn’t going to last long at this rate. If she was going to beat Nadiana, she had to do better, and she would. She was too stubborn to give up. Determination was the only way she ever got anywhere, whether it was in Switzer’s seminars or against her army of brothers. Why would fighting a dragon be any different?
Of course, getting up would be an excellent start, but at that moment moving was out of the question.
Two of the other dragons bellowed at each other like enraged bulls. Keltie caught a glimpse of the Flameborn, and none of them was human anymore. They were a tangle of wings and tails and teeth. She managed to get one hand under her and push herself up just in time to see Nadiana stalking her way, haunches in the air like a prowling cat. The queen pounced.
There was a snap of leather and a whoosh of wind. Jaws closed around Keltie, snatching her out of reach of the queen. The dragon beat the air, and with a lurch of her stomach Keltie swooped into the air. Nadiana roared in protest, but it was too late.
Terror blanked Keltie’s mind to white nothingness. She couldn’t tell whether or not she screamed. The dragon’s grip was gentle, but almost unbearably hot. Keltie squirmed to escape the razor teeth and dragon spit, but that only made her rescuer clutch harder.
They flew up and up, Keltie seeing snatches of motion around her. In a blur of color, the bronze spread his wings and chased the viridian queen into the air. The pair spiraled toward the dark, cavernous ceiling and out of sight. Instantly, the other dragons turned and took to the air, two at a time. Torn clothing scattered the ground. The festival was officially underway, and dragons fountained through the air like fireworks, disappearing until the theater was silent.
The whole thing took less than a minute. Almost at once, Keltie and her personal dragon were alone.
The beast landed on the path above—the path that led to an exit and freedom. He set Keltie carefully on the ground. She crawled away on her hands and knees, a part of her tempted to bolt the moment she was clear of the fangs. But as she scrambled to her feet, she turned, because she knew. This was the largest of the dragons, a huge male shaded from black to the lustrous blue-green of the peacock, and he had brilliant green eyes.
“Larkan,” Keltie whispered, and her legs gave way. She fell to her knees, exhaustion, wonder and relief robbing her of the power to stand. She reached up, and the dragon pushed its huge head into her hand the way a cat would. “You saved me.”
There was a shimmer, and then Larkan knelt over her in human form. He wore no clothes, but it was his expression that was entirely naked. “I want you.”
The pure, raw lust in his voice heated her blood like strong drink. Whatever drove the festival—pheromones, full moon or magic—was affecting her, too. All thoughts of danger faded like smoke, blown aside by an intense need to feel his body against hers. She wound her arms around Larkan’s neck, her darkest, most childlike need bubbling up from deep inside. “Prove you want me. Prove you think I’m good enough to be one of you.”
“Of course,” he said, with the solemnity of a vow. “Anything you ask. You are the only one I want. You are my tribe.”
He kissed her, leaning forward until she was on her back on the hard stone floor. She made a noise of protest, wanting something softer to lie upon. But then he was a dragon again, and she was clutched in his talons, securely tucked against his inky black chest. With a mighty snap, his wings carried her up and up over the amphitheater, circling skyward as the other dragons had done. And then she understood where they were going. There was an upward path through the mountain and in moments they burst into the open, starlit sky. Keltie whooped as the wind tore through her hair, but Larkan’s body sheltered her from the worst buffeting.
Exhilarated, Keltie turned her cheek to the soft, warm hide of his chest so that she could see. She gasped with delight. The night was filled with the gossamer wings of dragons. Blue, green, white and gray, they veiled the moon with their muted hues. Tails and necks wound together in the elaborate ballet of the mating flight, starlight shimmering on jewel-like hides. The sight was as elegant as a ballroom in the sky.
Larkan
set her down in a hidden valley that was sheltered from the wind. It was cold, the air icy with the kiss of coming winter, but there was a small cave lined with soft leaves and sweet-smelling pine. A bundle of skins made their bed, and a fire was already laid. It was lit in an instant, and then Larkan was human and naked beside her. There was no need for words. Just his lips, and his strong arms, and the hot drive for the two of them to be one.
Her clothes were lost before she touched the bed. His mouth was on her breast, kneading and pulling at her until he had almost suckled her to madness. The hard length of him pushed against her belly, tantalizing her. She writhed against him, aching for relief, but he merely switched to her other breast, turning her insides to liquid heat.
“Now,” she begged. “Now.”
He cupped her aching core with his hand, teasing her with his fingers. “Not yet.”
She made an angry, needy noise, pushing him over until she was on top. “Now.”
He slid two fingers inside her, making her gasp and shudder. Her mind went fuzzy with an overload of sensation as she pushed against him, but that only made the tension inside her build until she thought she would break.
Two could play at that. She reached down and grasped the hard length of him, stroking until his breathing grew ragged. She eased away from his touch, resettling herself until she just grazed his tip with her heat, but no more. A rumble escaped his chest, and he gripped her by the waist.
She leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Now you know what it’s like to be at the gates of paradise and be allowed no further.”
He flipped her over, pushing her down into the fragrant boughs. “Do not tease a dragon.”
“Then don’t tease me.” The plea went beyond the moment. She was losing her heart to him.
“I won’t,” he murmured back. “I claim you, Keltie.”
Then his mouth was on hers, and he eased himself inside, letting her take the fullness of him slowly at first, then plunging with a greedy force that brought a cry of satisfaction from deep inside her. Something released in the core of her, as if her body knew this was exactly right, and she abandoned herself to pleasure.
Lord Dragon's Conquest Page 6