The Dragon Legion Collection 9

by Deborah Cooke

  “Where have they gone?” the dragon demanded.

  Its voice was identical to that of the merchant. Cetos was shocked. Was he in the clutch of Zeus? That god dearly loved to change forms, to toy with mortal men, and to inflict punishment for no reason beyond his own amusement.

  “Where?” demanded the dragon again, giving Cetos a little squeeze of encouragement.

  Cetos realized a little bit late that this exchange was about more than the gold coins he’d coveted.

  “Sparta,” he confessed, then choked as the talons dug more deeply into his skin.

  “Are you sure?” The dragon’s voice was low and silky, inescapable.

  Cetos started to agree, then had a realization. Katina had left his house. He knew she would pursue the boy to retrieve him. He knew he’d introduced doubt into her mind about her decision to send the boy to Sparta, and he knew what she would do as a result of that doubt.

  He shook his head, then tried to draw breath to correct his answer. The dragon loosed its grip slightly and Cetos inhaled shakily. “Maybe Delphi,” he managed to say.

  “Delphi,” the dragon repeated with a low hiss. It took a deep breath, its nostrils almost pinching shut with it and its mailed chest swelling. It turned, his eyes glittering, then abandoned Cetos.

  Cetos dared to take a breath in relief. When he opened his eyes, the dragon was holding something in its talons. It looked like the scales that covered the dragon’s hide, but it was a purple so dark that it was almost black. Was it from the other dragon?

  “You’ve had a guest,” the yellow dragon said, then bared its teeth in a vicious parody of a smile.

  Cetos wondered what had pleased him so much, but the dragon returned to his side and he didn’t dare to ask. The dragon removed Cetos’ purse, spilled its contents into its claw and counted the gold coins. It kept the coins, tossing the empty purse at Cetos.

  The gold. It had taken back the gold. Cetos moaned in disappointment.

  He had no chance to argue, because the dragon opened its mouth. Cetos saw down the great dark gullet of the beast, then screamed as he was engulfed in flames for the second time. This blaze was hotter and brighter. He was dimly aware of the dragon laughing as it spewed more fire, clearly delighting in burning Cetos to a crisp.

  Cetos knew he wouldn’t survive this assault.

  A boy cried out in dismay, then the dragon set the entire house ablaze. Cetos heard the slaves scream as the dragon hunted them down.

  There were more screams, then an eerie silence—punctuated only by the sobbing of a boy. The slaves were dead, Cetos knew it, and he soon would be as well. On every side, there was fire and heat, brilliant light and smoke. He heard the house creak before collapsing around him and becoming an inferno that would never be extinguished.

  Cetos rolled to his back in agony and opened his eyes. The last thing he saw was a dragon taking flight into the night sky, something Cetos couldn’t identify clutched to its side.

  The boy.

  The one the dragon claimed was his son.

  It was too late for regrets, but Cetos had more than one.

  Chapter Three

  There was something soothing about the rhythm of the dragon’s flight. Katina managed to slow the racing of her heart as the dragon carried her into the hills. Her face still hurt and the backs of her elbows stung where the skin had been scraped away, but she didn’t care. She was away from that horrific situation, one she had never expected. Cetos had never been violent before, and it made no sense that he’d been so distressed by not being able to surrender Lysander for some apprenticeship, even if the other man was wealthy.

  It was as if a different man had come home from his routine journey.

  Was he dead? Katina wasn’t sure and she didn’t want to think about it. Not yet. She could still smell burning flesh and it made her bile rise.

  She was more worried about what had happened to Alexander. Had the dragon attacked him first? Was he still hidden in the bedroom, or had he managed to escape?

  Would she ever know? She couldn’t help feeling that she was reliving the past in losing Alexander again and being uncertain of his safety or survival.

  It wasn’t any easier the second time.

  Katina spared a glance upward at her captor. She probably should have been more frightened than she was to be in the captivity of a dragon. Its grip upon her wasn’t painfully tight, and she had the sense that it had been saving her.

  Why? A dragon was unlikely to speak to her, much less confide in her.

  She’d never believed they existed, but this dragon was real. Was it exactly what it appeared to be, or a god in disguise? How could she find out?

  Katina could see the deep silvery purple of its chest scales more closely now and also the power of its muscles moving beneath the armor. Its wings beat at almost a leisurely pace, as if it was effortless to both fly and carry her weight. There was a savage beauty about the dragon, and a power that filled her with awe.

  “That he was your husband,” the dragon said, his voice sounding precisely like Alexander’s, “didn’t give him the right to strike you.” He gave her an intent look, one that reminded her very much of Alexander when he was annoyed. “Ever.”

  Katina gasped in shock. “You spoke!”

  The dragon glanced down at her regally. Its gaze was knowing, as if it would dare her to believe the impossible.

  “But you’re a dragon,” she said, speaking aloud as she considered the possibilities.

  “A dragon shape shifter,” the dragon corrected and once again, Katina heard her love’s voice.

  “Alexander?” she whispered and he inclined his head once.

  Just as Alexander would have done.

  Katina looked away, her thoughts spinning. A dragon shape shifter? Who knew that such creatures existed...never mind that she’d been married to one. But then, the gods were often said to enchant humans, turning them into other creatures or trees. She’d thought the stories whimsical, but they must have a root in truth.

  She could easily believe that Alexander would defend her from harm, using any abilities he had.

  She just hadn’t counted on this one.

  Was it possible that she and Alexander had something in common? Katina’s heart began to pound with hope, but she tried to stay calm. She had to know more to be sure that this was cause for celebration. “Isn’t that impossible?”

  “Nothing is impossible, Katina. I’ve learned that much, at least.” He spoke with such conviction that she wondered again where he had been and what he had seen.

  “Do you control the change?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it new for you?”

  “No.”

  Katina was thrilled. “Show me,” she said, needing to see the truth with her own eyes.

  Alexander didn’t answer, but began a spiraling descent. Katina realized that he was targeting the crest of a hill that was well out of sight of the village. He was going to do as she asked. But then, Alexander was always a man whose actions spoke more clearly than his few words.

  The dragon landed with easy grace and set her on her feet.

  Katina held her ground and met his gaze, wanting him to see that she was unafraid of him, whatever he was.

  “You should avert your gaze,” he advised.

  “Why?”

  “They say it can make a human insane to witness the change.”

  Katina wasn’t one to put stock in rumors, seeing such a change wouldn’t challenge her sanity. She already knew such feats were possible. “Who says that?”

  If a dragon could be said to smile, this one did. “Others of my kind insist it’s true.”

  “Have you seen any human go crazy at the sight?”

  He considered the matter, then shook his head.

  Alexander never lied to her.

  “Then I’ll keep my eyes open.” Katina lifted her chin. “Show me.”

  The dragon’s gaze brightened. The way his eyes glittered was both familia
r and alien: it reminded her of Alexander when he was intent, yet seemed reptilian. “My bold Katina,” he murmured, the low familiar sound sending a shiver through her.

  Then all she saw was the similarity to Alexander.

  As she watched, that same strange blue light she’d seen before shimmered around his form. It became radiant, a wondrous yet unusual glow, and then within the halo of illumination, Katina caught a glimpse of the dragon’s silhouette changing.

  The dragon’s wings became smaller and folded along his back, melding into his shoulders. His tail shortened until it, too, disappeared. His claws became hands and feet, his scaled hide faded from view, and Alexander stood before her instead. It all happened in the blink of an eye. That blue light shimmered briefly around his body, before it was extinguished.

  He waited in silence for her to respond, watching her with care, just as Alexander was inclined to do.

  Katina wanted to laugh with delight. She had a good look at him, verifying that her eyes hadn’t deceived her. Alexander was wearing his strange clothing again, although the front of his upper garment hung open to reveal the tanned expanse of his chest. He was exactly as he should be, and she knew he couldn’t possibly have been hiding here or otherwise disguised.

  Alexander was the dragon.

  The dark dragon drawn on his shoulder suddenly made more sense.

  It marked him as what he was.

  This explained why the dragon had come to her rescue. Katina exhaled, surprised to find her insides quivering with joy. Learning Alexander’s secret made Katina feel as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn’t have to hide her own truth from him any longer. She didn’t have to fear his reaction.

  They had so much in common.

  She walked toward him, cautiously placing one hand on his chest. His heart pounded beneath her hand, beneath the familiar heat of muscle and bone. She hardly dared to believe her good fortune, and had to be sure this was as perfect as she believed it to be. Was there a trick?

  “What god gave you this gift and at what price?” she asked.

  Alexander studied her, as if deciding what to tell her. He was so still that he might have seen the secrets of her heart. “You aren’t afraid,” he mused and her heart skipped. “You’re not even surprised.”

  Katina smiled, not ready to explain herself just yet. “You’re the man I love, and that doesn’t change, even if you have kept a secret from me.”

  Alexander studied her and she watched admiration dawn in his eyes, as well as pleasure. “My bold bride,” he murmured, then closed his hand over hers.

  “I knew there was something you weren’t telling me.”

  “How? I was so careful...”

  Katina laced her fingers between his. “Not so careful as that. You answered the door before anyone knocked. You lifted a pot from the fire before the food began to burn. You rose from a deep sleep to get Lysander for his feeding before he opened his mouth to cry. I thought you could see the future, but were afraid to admit it to me. I thought you were a kind of oracle.”

  He looked down at their interlocked hands. His thumb eased across the back of her hand, launching an army of shivers over her flesh. “A gift of prophecy would have been far easier to explain.”

  “Then how did you know those things?”

  “Our senses are sharper. We see farther and hear a greater range of sounds.”

  That made sense to Katina. She waited but he said no more, so she leaned against him to whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She knew the answer to this. It had to be the same answer she would have given in his place, but she wanted to hear it. She wanted him to realize that they had this fear in common before she shared her secret.

  “I was afraid to lose you, if you knew the truth.” Alexander swallowed and looked down at her hand in his. “Not all women would welcome such news of their husband.”

  “I think they would if that husband saved them from a beating.” Katina retorted. She’d meant to make him smile, but immediately saw that she had said the wrong thing. Alexander frowned, then released her hand and turned away. He looked over the valley now falling into darkness. He propped his hands on his hips and kept his back to her.

  Katina felt as if a wide cold rift had opened between them, then guessed why. “What happened to Cetos?”

  “What do you mean?” Alexander’s voice was carefully neutral.

  Katina swallowed. She didn’t wish Cetos dead, despite what he had done, but she did want to be with Alexander again. “Am I a widow, free to welcome you again, or not?”

  Alexander flicked a hot look her way. “I didn’t kill him.” He was so sure that Katina knew it was true.

  Her heart sank. She was still a married woman. “I won’t go back to him,” she said with resolve. “I’ll stay with you.”

  Alexander grimaced. “You gave your word to him.”

  “You invited me to go with you.”

  “That was before...” He frowned and fell silent.

  “He raised his hand against me.” Katina felt her lips set even as she folded her arms across her chest. If Alexander was going to be stubborn, she would be more so. “And if I tell him that I welcomed you, he’ll cast me out anyway. Do you mean to hold me to that marriage vow, even though he tried to hurt me?”

  To her surprise, Alexander said nothing, although his scowl deepened.

  “Don’t you love me anymore?” Katina demanded, needing to hear the truth.

  “I have no right to love you,” Alexander said.

  It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it wasn’t the one she’d feared either. “You’d prefer that I went back to Cetos?” she asked, hearing the hurt in her voice. “You just came to seduce me, not to stay?”

  “No,” he said with force. “Never that.”

  “Then what?”

  “I won’t make a promise to you that I might not be able to keep.”

  Katina bit her lip and looked over the valley. It was possible that he was bothered by her marriage vow, but she sensed that there was something else, some ethical concern that made him wait. She loved that Alexander was a man of honor, but in this moment, she could wish that he weren’t quite so principled.

  Of course, then she wouldn’t love him quite so much.

  Then she remembered his earlier confession. “You don’t know if you’ll be able to stay,” she whispered.

  Alexander bowed his head.

  “You never could lie,” she said softly.

  “Not to you.” He looked at her then, his heart in his eyes, and Katina realized she’d have to show him that she’d take every moment she could have with him, and savor it. She’d tried to send him away, fearing that Cetos would injure him, but now that they were away from Cetos, she couldn’t bear to be parted from Alexander.

  And she knew now that he could defend himself against any man.

  She recognized that his principles would stand between them, along with her marriage vows. As long as Cetos lived and Alexander was uncertain of his future, he wouldn’t touch her. He’d defend her and talk to her, but no more than that.

  Katina wanted more. She had to find a way to solve this.

  “When will you know about your future?” she asked.

  “After I ask the Pythia.”

  “We have to go to Delphi, then.”

  He nodded.

  “The flames, in the sanctuary,” she guessed. “When we first met. I saw them spark between the two of us. I thought it a sign.” Alexander nodded agreement. “It wasn’t a trick, was it? It didn’t have anything to do with the Pythia or the fumes in the temple.”

  “It was the light of the firestorm,” Alexander admitted. “The firestorm burns when one of my kind meets his destined mate.”

  Katina smiled with new hope. “Then we were destined to be together.”

  Alexander shrugged and Katina sensed that, once again, he would protect her from some painful truth. “It’s not such a romantic idea as that. The destined mate is the woman wh
o can bear the Pyr’s son. The flame burns until their match is made.”

  Katina looked away, disappointed that the magic of their first encounter had only been about the conception of Lysander. “Did I have a choice?”

  “There’s always a choice.”

  Katina remembered the heat of the firestorm, the power of her desire and the connection she had felt with Alexander in that potent moment. She remembered the consuming attraction she’d felt for him and wasn’t sure she could have resisted him then, not for any price.

  She stole a glance at him and acknowledged that hadn’t changed. She hadn’t been able to resist him on this day, even without the spark of this firestorm.

  And she didn’t want to resist him now.

  Suddenly, she realized the implication underlying his words.

  “Bear his son,” she echoed. “That means Lysander...”

  Alexander fixed her with a cool glance that reminded her of the dragon within. “Will be like me,” he confirmed with a calmness that seemed undeserved. “Understand, Katina, that if I hadn’t pledged to serve, then I would never have answered the summons.” His eyes darkened as he watched her, his voice softening. “But if I hadn’t pledged, then I wouldn’t have been in the sanctuary of the temple at Delphi the night you arrived there. I wouldn’t have missed that for all the world.”

  There was a lump in Katina’s throat. “No matter how it ends?”

  “No matter how it ends, I can’t regret having been with you.”

  Katina reached out and took his hand in hers again. “I have no regrets, either.”

  Their gazes locked and held for a long moment. That familiar heat rose between them, reminding her that they had never stopped with one mating. She saw the spark of desire brighten in Alexander’s eyes and dared to hope that he might soften in his resolve. She made to take a step closer, to encourage him with a kiss, but Alexander caught his breath sharply.

  His entire body stiffened in alarm. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the valley and she saw that faint shimmer of blue around his body.

  “What is it?”