Dragon Song (Dawn of the Dragon Queen Book 1)

by Tara West

  Safina learned a great deal about Gabriel and his family. She was surprised to discover he was the second-born son, already nineteen summers old. Back in the old world, most men were married with bairns and farms of their own by that age. It was odd to think of Gabriel as a man, but as they shared secretive smiles throughout supper, the more she liked the idea of it. She knew once she healed him, he would be looking to start a family of his own.

  Her stomach twisted at the thought of him marrying another. It was then she realized why love had made Abby jump off the pier and why her mother mourned the loss of her mate. Safina could not imagine Gabriel with anyone else but her. She forced herself to push dark thoughts out of her mind as she reassured herself Gabriel hadn’t pledged his love to another.

  After Safina had her fill of buttery bean soup and warm tortillas, she followed Gabriel to his room. She sat on the bed beside Gabriel, leaning against the wall and warily eyeing the door flap for her mother’s intrusion. She was surprised Mother hadn’t woken and found them yet.

  She smoothed the wrinkles out of her dress, mildly disappointed it was more faded than her last one. If only she’d had time to remove her clothes before transforming into a dragon. After she’d stuck her hand into an empty pocket the realization hit her.

  She shot up as if she’d been jolted. “Oh, no! Your handkerchief was in my dress.”

  “Safina, it’s okay.” Gabriel wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  Instinctively, she turned into him, sobbing against his chest. “No, it’s not. It’s all I had from you, and it’s gone.”

  “I will give you another,” he whispered against her ear, smoothing a hand down her back.

  Safina had no idea why, but his touch made her body quake. The shiver radiated from her spine and traveled all the way down to her toes. It felt good, and yet something about the way she responded also felt wicked, for he caused another sensation to swell deep below her belly, and an uncomfortable and yet delightful ache between her thighs. She wanted nothing more than to melt against him as he continued to stroke her but sensed it would only fuel a forbidden desire.

  Reluctantly, she pulled out of his embrace, though she still sat dangerously close to him. “I can’t take all of your lovely handkerchiefs.”

  He cupped her chin, dipping his head until she was forced to meet his eyes. “Maybe you can give me something in return.”

  “I have nothing to give anyone.” She sniffled as she waved at her faded dress. “I don’t even own these clothes.”

  He bit his bottom lip before pulling a lock of her hair from its confinement and twirling it around his finger. “This is what I want.”

  Her mouth fell open as she got lost in the twin pools of his warm, entrancing gaze. “My hair?”

  His cheeks colored. “Just a small lock.”

  “Why would you want a piece of my hair?” Safina was confused. Her hair was coarse and wild, not to mention unnaturally bright. It was not soft or the color of rich gold like Charlotte Carter’s.

  Gabriel’s blush deepened. “Because it’s the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen. It reminds me of an ocean sunset.”

  “Oh.” She was shocked and yet pleased by his answer. “You may have it then.”

  His eyes lit up. “Truly?”

  Almighty Mother, the boy had her in such a trance, she could hardly think straight. All she knew was she wanted nothing more than for Gabriel Cortez to claim a piece of her. “Aye.”

  He dug into his trews pocket and pulled out a small blade. Unsheathing it from its leather pouch, he held it above her shoulder. “Hold still.” He sawed off her hair with ease, smiling as he held it in his palm.

  Safina watched with wonder as he closed his eyes, rubbing the lock across his stubbled cheek. That swelling between her legs turned into an aching throb, causing her to shift uncomfortably. What was Gabriel doing to her?

  “What will you do with it?”

  “Keep it close,” he said with a wink, slipping it into his shirt pocket. “Here.” He pulled another handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. “It was just laundered this morning.”

  Safina gratefully took his gift, inhaling the mixed scents of ink and earth. “Mmmm. It smells like you.”

  He arched a brow. “And that’s a good thing?”

  She eagerly nodded before slipping the handkerchief into her pocket, determined never to lose another. “Very good. Thank you, Gabriel.” She clasped his hand in hers as warmth surged through her. “You are the very best of friends.”

  His face fell as he pulled away. “I wish I… never mind.”

  Safina thought her heart had fallen out of her chest when he pulled away. What had she done to cause his shift in mood? “You wish what, Gabriel?”

  “I would love to be more than your friend, but you deserve more than this.” He frowned and looked down at his legs.

  She leaned into him, grasping his hand once more, squeezing tight enough so he didn’t pull away. “Do not speak so, Gabriel.”

  “But it’s true.” He breathed out a heavy sigh. “I’m an invalid. I could do nothing while my brother was being attacked. I sat there helplessly. And when you went into the water, I thought I would have died if you didn’t come out.”

  “Oh, Gabriel!” His pain pierced her heart, causing so much anguish. Safina grasped his shoulders, thinking of no other way to offer him relief than with a kiss.

  Her mouth hovered dangerously close to his as she cupped the back of his head, running her fingers through his thick hair. The shock in his eyes was short-lived, replaced by something else, something so powerful, neither of them could break free of the spell. He bent his head toward hers, feathering a kiss across her lips.

  She sighed against him, the feel of his skin so intimately connected to hers, sending powerful waves of desire coursing through her.

  He pulled back, panting like a wounded animal. “No, Safi. You deserve better.”

  “But it’s you I want.”

  With a groan, he wrapped her in an embrace, kissing her so deeply, so passionately, her head spun. She moaned in delight when his tongue sought hers. Instinctively, she roamed his strong arms and hard chest with her hands. Then he broke the kiss, sucking in a gasp when she wandered lower.

  “What are you doing?”

  She smoothed down his legs, her fingertips tingling with the oddest sensation, as if little bugs were crawling out of them. “I don’t know. Just let me do this.” Safina bit her lip as she concentrated on the tingling. Something was wrong, for when the sensation left her fingers, she did not feel a warmth. She began unbuckling his trews.

  “Safi, no!” he hissed, trying to push her away. “Not here.”

  She grasped his hand and squeezed, looking deeply into his eyes. “Please, Gabriel. I need to touch your skin for it to work.”

  Nodding solemnly, he released her hand, leaning back with a groan as she pulled down his trousers.

  She bit her lip, flushing when she noticed the swell beneath his undergarments. She knew little of the male species but suspected desire made him so. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of lust, for healing Gabriel was of far greater importance.

  She wanted to cry when she saw his bare legs, which resembled skeletal twigs wrapped in parchment. She closed her eyes and ran her hands down his thighs, channeling the magic of her healing powers as warmth infused her fingers.

  “Safi, I feel it. I feel you touching me.”

  His breathy voice was like an echo in her skull, so focused was she on healing him.

  “My toe twitched. Did you see that?”

  She shook her head, keeping her eyes shut as she continued to caress his legs. Then the oddest thing happened. More warmth began to pour out of her, flowing so fast it was as if her fingertips were bleeding. Her head swam with dizziness, and she was forced to pull away. She leaned against the wall, moaning as another wave of dizziness overcame her.

  So this was why Mother was always tired after a healing. Great ma
gic took great strength.

  “Oh, Safi!” Gabriel cupped her face, showering her with kisses.

  When their lips finally met, it was as if he was pouring his heart into her. After a long, languid kiss, she felt renewed. “Your kisses give me strength.”

  “Then let me kiss you again,” he rasped.

  She tried to push him back. “I want to heal you, Gabriel.” Her words slurred as if she’d drunk a jug of mead. How had this fatigue overcome her speech? She’d only briefly touched him.

  “Safi. You’re tired. You must rest.” Gabriel’s voice sounded so hollow, as if he were speaking in a dream.

  Her eyelids were so heavy. Though she tried to fight it, they closed of their own accord. “But I’m not finished.”

  He brushed hair off her cheek and stroked her back. “Rest, Safi. Please.”

  “I will heal you, Gabriel,” she murmured as she lay on her side and snuggled against a warm blanket.

  “I know,” he whispered before kissing her brow.

  She sighed as she inhaled his scent, the feel of his lips on hers lingering in her memory as she succumbed to darkness.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Scotland-1418

  Fiona walked into the damp cave, catching one last glimpse of the sunset and wishing she could have helped the villagers prepare for the Beltane celebration. The basket in her hand brushed against the cave wall as she carefully climbed down the steep slope, nearly tripping over a discarded ram’s skull. The farther she descended into the pit, the stronger the smell of sulfur and the thicker the fog. She was starting to loathe the stench of her mother’s dragon breath. She’d no idea why the queen insisted on remaining in her dragon form, preferring to stay a recluse, hiding away from mortals. Mother refused to leave the cave except to hunt, and even those outings were becoming more infrequent.

  After she climbed down the last step, she stopped to empty dust and debris from her thin sandal. A plume of smoke hit her in the face.

  A large, crimson dragon head poked from the cloud, green eyes narrowing as smoke poured from flared nostrils. “Fiona, where have you been?”

  “I was picking flowers,” she said absently, then cringed when she remembered her empty basket.

  Her mother’s dragon eyes did not miss a thing. “The mortals saw you?”

  It was more an accusation than a question. Aye, the mortals had seen her, for they always came out in droves when the witch who dwelled in the haunted caverns came calling. They brought with them their sick and infirm, lining up with sweetmeats, fresh figs, and other tokens of thanks as Fiona placed her healing hands on them all.

  Then Fiona and her friend, Davinda, would run off into the forest, taking a dip in the cool river and filling up on food until their stomachs bloated. After they took a long nap, Davinda would amuse Fiona with riddles and tales of knights and maidens. Reluctantly, they would part with the promise to meet again.

  How Fiona wished she could live in the village. Davinda had offered her a bed in her modest little cottage. She’d taken Fiona there once. It smelled of incense, earth, and freshly cut wood—a stark contrast to Fiona’s dank cave.

  But how would Mother react if she found out Fiona had befriended so many mortals that knew of her healing powers?

  Fiona looked away from her mother’s prying eyes. “Aye, but fear not. ’Twas only Davinda, the druid.”

  “Witch or no, she is still a mortal. You are not to speak to her.”

  Fiona’s breath caught in her throat, but her shock was brief, replaced by anger. She turned up her chin in a rare act of defiance. “She is my friend.”

  Mother stretched her neck to the top of the cavern, looking at Fiona with a condescending frown. “Mortals and dragons can never be friends, my child.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “What do you expect of me, Mother? To hide myself away in this cave, only coming out to hunt prey at night, spending the rest of my days lamenting how much mortals hate me?”

  The queen hunched over, the ridges of her spine shooting up like a feral cat’s. Though the dragon queen tried to shake off the pain, Fiona felt the barb of her verbal spear hitting her mother straight in the heart. Fiona regretted her words. She hadn’t meant to cause her mother sorrow, but she was tired of hiding and being friendless. Why should she fear mortals when they had only shown her kindness?

  “Consider the repercussions, daughter,” Mother hissed. “What will the villagers do to us if they discover what we are?”

  Fiona jutted a foot forward, pounding her chest. “It is not we who should be afraid of them, but they of us. Have you forgotten we are dragon royals?”

  “I have not.” Mother’s jowls turned up in a fanged snarl, a low growl reverberating from her chest and echoing through the cavern. “The last of our kind, thanks to mortal prejudice. And you and I will likewise perish if we do not guard our secrets and stay away from humankind.”

  Especially mankind; Mother’s thought reverberated in Fiona’s skull.

  She wondered why her mother hated men, for Fiona thought them fascinating. The queen’s hatred always troubled her, especially after the time Davinda had asked her about her father. Fiona knew nothing of her father, for her mother had refused to speak of him. Why?

  Fiona summoned the courage to face the queen, for she knew her mother was always moody for days after the mention of her father. But she had grown tired of this secret between them. Fiona had a right to know her sire.

  “Was it something my father did? Is that why you distance yourself from mortals?”

  The queen snarled like a wounded animal. “Do not speak of him.”

  Her mother’s response angered Fiona. Today when she visited the villagers, many fathers had come from the fields, carrying tots on their shoulders. ’Twas not fair they had sires, and she had been forbidden to speak of hers. She squared her shoulders, tempted to turn into dragon form and face her mother eye-to-eye but thought better of ripping her dress. “I have a right to know who my father is.”

  “You have no father,” the queen answered flatly.

  Anger infused Fiona’s skull, and she used all her willpower to keep from screaming. “That is not true. Graechen said when a dragon finds a mate, they bond for eternity.”

  In the blink of an eye, the dragon queen transformed into a beautiful nude woman, her ivory skin a stark contrast to her wild, flame-colored hair. Fiona was shocked at her mother’s transformation. She hadn’t seen her human form in several seasons.

  Mother turned from her, her pale skin like a glowing beacon amidst the smoke. “Aye, we do.”

  Curious about her mother’s sudden transformation, Fiona followed her. The queen walked over to one of the many cavern pools and knelt beside it, staring wistfully at her reflection.

  Fiona came up behind her mother, looking down at the pool. Mother was still so youthful, they could have passed for twins. If it wasn’t for the difference in eye color, they would have been identical. The queen had mentioned a dragon stops aging a few years after the first blush of womanhood, and her mate was tied to her immortality. What had happened for him to give all that up? “Then where is he?”

  The queen looked down at her reflection with a groan. “In some monastery, no doubt, serving penance for sleeping with the devil.”

  Fiona gasped. “Surely he can’t believe that.”

  Her mother waved at their empty cavern. “Then why is he not here with us?”

  It was then that it hit her. All this time Mother had insisted they hide who they were, living in caves and skulking around at night, because of what had happened with her father. She still could not comprehend why he’d left them, but at least she better understood her mother. “I’m sorry.”

  Her soft smile was not enough to mask the hurt in her eyes, Mother touched Fiona’s cheek. “Do not be sorry. If it were not for him, I wouldn’t have you.”

  She threw herself into her mother’s arms, relieved when the queen hugged her back. Though she was crushed to learn of her father
’s rejection, she was thankful to have broken down her mother’s emotional barrier. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d held each other. Had it been when she was a child? Surely not. Fiona was disturbed she couldn’t remember.

  That’s when Fiona realized things between them needed to change. She pulled out of the hug, grasping her mother’s delicate hand in her own. “Come with me to the village tomorrow. You will see humans are not all bad.”

  The queen frowned. “No, they are not all bad, but they fear us, and fear makes them do bad things. Very bad things.”

  Mother’s warning echoed in Fiona’s skull, reverberating like a gong even after she woke from her fitful slumber. She rolled onto her side, surprised to find her child was not sleeping soundly beside her. Burying her face in her pillow, she stifled a sob.

  “Mother, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Had I not ridiculed you for your wise foresight, had I not encouraged you to venture out of our shelter, you’d be alive today.”

  Though she was tired and sore, she heaved herself out of bed and quickly dressed. She was determined Safina would not suffer the same mistakes, for no good had ever come from helping mortals. And no good would ever come from loving one, either.

  * * *

  Safina slowly opened her eyes, yawning as she stretched her arms and legs. She’d had the most peaceful, deep slumber. So deep she momentarily forgot where she was. But as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, memories hit her like a cold wall of water.

  “Gabriel!” she called as she tossed the blanket off her legs.

  A strange clanking sound echoed from the other room, and much to Safina’s amazement, Gabriel walked through the door, leaning on a pair of crutches. He wore that same boyish, crooked smile, only this time his whole face was lit up, like the Northern Star burning brightly in the night sky.

  She shot out of bed and ran to him.

  “Oh, Gabriel!” She threw her arms around his neck. “You’re walking!”

  “I am, mi amor,” he breathed against her cheek. “Thanks to you.”