Dragonborn (The Jade Lee Romantic Fantasies, Book 1)

by Jade Lee

  His eyes flashed a moment in frustration, but it was quickly covered as he reached out, this time to stroke her cheek. "My dear, you know—"

  She caught his hand, startled by the heat that abruptly arced between them when their palms touched. She gasped, trying to pull away, but his grip was strong, and he held her hand in place—palm to palm—while his eyes seemed to blaze.

  "Please," she whispered. "I'm so confused."

  His eyes seemed to gentle, but he still held her hand imprisoned. "I know you are," he said softly. "Just give it a moment. We must become accustomed to one another."

  Inside her belly, the egg twisted, seeming to churn and move. She felt her stomach muscles contract, trying to fight the egg's agitation, but its contortions were too strong.

  "Let it happen," the Emperor urged.

  She had no choice; she couldn't pull away no matter how much she tried. Power—she had no other word for it—pulsed between their palms, and she heard her breath come in stuttering gasps. Her body tingled with the energy coursing through her, and one look at Dag Racho's face showed her that he, too, felt the waves that crashed through her body. Behind them, the Copper also tensed, his tail and wings twitching, his body beginning to undulate. She watched in frightened horror as Dag Racho's prock thickened inside his pants, the bulge clear even in the shadows of the Copper's wings.

  Then Dag Racho leaned forward, his hot breath fanning her cheeks, sending ripples along her neck and shoulders. "I know it is too soon for you," he rasped, "so I will not take you now. But we are fated to be together, Natiya. My Copper. Your Gold. It cannot be any other way. You need to understand that."

  She did. She did understand, and if she didn't, the clench of lust that twisted with the egg in her belly more than explained matters. They were two dragonborn—male and female—and the draw between them was undeniable.

  "Not now!" she gasped, planting her feet and hauling back on her arm. Her move was abrupt and violent, but even so she sensed that she did not escape of her own power. The Emperor released her, allowing her to scramble backward only to be caught between the Copper's foreleg and belly.

  "As I said," Dag Racho continued, his breaths absolutely even, his expression completely calm, "it is too soon for you, but I have been so worried for so long. You cannot know what fear I labor under daily." His shoulders drooped slightly as he looked at her. "And you cannot remain a child forever, especially since the hatching time approaches. Natiya, you must see that we will be mated. For the good of the land I serve and for your own safety."

  "How?" she whispered, fighting to calm her racing heart. The power had lessened the moment their hands separated, but its aftereffects remained like tiny rivers of fire still burning in all parts of her body—some areas more than others. She swallowed, forcing herself to focus on her questions. "How is this for the good of Ragona?"

  He sighed as if he were looking at an especially stupid student. "You cannot wish to return to the dark days of the dragonlords! Even my fight with Dag Jaseen devastated the area for two cycles. Some parts are only now returning to their full crop production. You cannot want that. Think of all the people who will starve in another dragon war."

  She looked away, her mind in turmoil. She didn't want that. She couldn't want that. But Dag Racho was evil. He needed to be overthrown. And a war...

  "There are other ways, Natiya. A dragon is a powerful weapon. And a Queen almost matches my Copper. Think what would happen if we joined together. No country would dare attack us—"

  "None attack now."

  "Exactly!" he said as he straightened to his full height. "That is because of me. Because I ended the dragon wars of a century ago. I ended the rampant greed, the destruction, the violence that tore Ragona apart until even the invaders didn't want it." He leaned forward, passionate in his vision. "But we are no longer a poor country. Our lands are fertile, our cattle fat. Many amass armies even now. Those druting Gambis to the north for one. Only my Copper keeps them at bay, and not for long."

  He dropped to his knees, reaching out for her. She shrank away, so he did not press her. Instead, he slumped back onto his heels.

  "I know I am pushing you too fast, but the need is urgent. Natiya, our two dragons—allied—will buy Ragona some time. But if you and I go to war, then the Gambis will sweep in and destroy everything while we are occupied with each other."

  "How can you know this?" she asked, her voice high and weak.

  "I have seen it with my own eyes. The Copper and I travel far and wide on his wings, and dragon eyes see much."

  "An army on our border?" The very thought chilled her.

  "A huge one. Poised to attack. Your native city—Dabu'ut—will not be the first to fall, but it will eventually. There is much wealth in any city next to a sea, and the Gambis will stop at nothing until they have it all."

  Natiya bit her lip, imagining an invasion. She bore no great love for Talned or Monik, nor even for the many rough sailors that frequented the bar. But neither did she wish them to be slaughtered by an invading army.

  "They won't attack if you and I join together. I think we have enough time for the hatching and then a mating, but not much more."

  She felt her eyes clench shut as she tried to sort through his words. Could it be true? All her life, she had lived under martial law. Soldiers patrolled the streets, creating as much havoc as they ended. But they were manageable. If you knew how to stay out of their way and pay the right bribes, you survived. Some even thrived. What would happen if the soldiers disappeared? If they weren't around to prevent an invasion? She sincerely doubted the Gambis would accept a bribe. Rape and pillage was more their style, or so she had been told. The thought of the Gambis invading her home terrified her.

  "There is more," he pressed. "Think of our children."

  Her eyes flew open as she gazed up at him in shock. "Our children? Yours and mine?"

  "New eggs. A new dragon clutch. To be raised under our tutelage, our guidance."

  This time he did reach for her, grasping not her hands but her arms. She felt the power skate along her skin, but knew he restrained it this time, carefully managed the flow. And all the while he kept talking, kept trying to persuade her.

  "An army, Natiya. An army of dragons—our children—guided by you and me. We can defend Ragona, keep everyone safe." His hands gentled on her arms. "Think on it, Natiya. We could do it together. You could be the mother of a new age, a golden age."

  He waited, searching her face. She did not know what he sought in her expression, only that he grunted softly, abruptly leaned down and pulled her to her feet.

  "Think on it," he whispered. Then, before he left, he once again reached out and stroked a finger across her cheek, leaving a trail of power. He touched her lips slowly and with infinite tenderness. "We are fated, Natiya. But more than that, our joining makes sense. Simple, logical sense."

  He gave her one last speaking look before gesturing to his guards. Four stepped forward, coming to either side of her. She was being dismissed, the guards obviously there to escort her to her room.

  "Wait!" she cried, giving voice to something that was only now seeping into her conscious awareness. "I keep feeling like there's something more to the bonding. Something I'm missing." She struggled helplessly with thoughts that weren't clear. "As if there's a purpose to humans and dragons. And an endpoint."

  For a brief moment, a strange expression like terror flashed across his face. He masked it quickly, but she saw nonetheless. And then he laughed, loud and too long. "That is just your fear, little Natiya," he said when he could draw breath. "Dragons are like pets to us. Like very large dogs that can fly."

  Inside her belly, her egg twisted in disagreement, but Natiya kept silent. She would question it later in the privacy of her own room.

  Dag Racho stepped forward, patting her cheek in a condescending motion. "Dragons are our servants—nothing more, nothing less. Do not confuse the voice inside you as intelligence. Haven't you noticed how it
echoes what you think and feel?"

  She nodded slowly, using the motion to pull away from his touch. The power that always arced between them confused her. "It seems like the egg thinks what I do, only more so. It feels what I do—"

  "Only it exaggerates it. Exactly! It is a magnifying glass for your thoughts and emotions, but it does not think on its own. We do. We control." Then he leaned forward, his entire presence expanding with threat. "I rule."

  She frowned, her thoughts shifting until she saw a pattern in his words and actions. "Then... if you are afraid of assassination, you would feel that threat a hundredfold and surround yourself with guards at every turn. If there were bandits to the north, your dragon would magnify that fear, creating an entire country ready to invade Ragona."

  His eyes hardened, and she felt anger roll off him in waves. "Experience and intelligence, my dear. Those things keep everything in perspective. And they are sorely lacking in you."

  "But—," she began.

  He waved her into silence. "Enough of this. You need rest. After all, you have a big day tomorrow."

  She looked up at him, feeling more than dazed; she felt drunk with possibilities. "What?"

  "Tomorrow your tutelage begins." And with that, he gestured. The guards took her arms gently, but no less firmly, and she was forced to go with them. At the last moment she turned, a question on her lips.

  She never voiced it. The Emperor was preoccupied. He had another five guards around him, all assisting as he latched a strong iron chain around the Copper's neck. The dragon twisted, but not much, as he tried to face the Emperor. In fact, Natiya had the distinct impression the dragon wanted to touch his human—forehead to forehead—but she had no understanding of why. And there was no time to ask, for the guards led her firmly away.

  * * *

  Why do you sleep?

  Natiya woke with a start. She winced as her back protested; she'd fallen asleep on the cushions near the window rather than in her bed, and with the extra weight of the dragon egg she felt fat, unwieldy and just plain annoyed.

  "What do you want?" she groused to the egg.

  Why do you sleep? There is so much more to learn.

  Natiya sighed. At times the egg could be relentless in its quest for more information, more stimulation. More, more, more. Just when Natiya felt she needed less. Less confusion. Less doubt. And certainly less of this annoyingly huge bulk the egg created on her body.

  "You've grown again," she grumbled at the fist-sized jewel in her belly.

  The Copper feeds me power.

  "Have you found out any answers?" she asked it. The moment she'd returned to her room this evening, she had begun questioning her egg. Unfortunately, it had only reflected back her own confusion. It thought there might be a purpose to the bonding, but it didn't know what. It maybe saw dragon-magnified paranoia in all of Dag Racho's actions, but maybe not. It didn't know, and so in disgust Natiya had sat on the window seat and tried to think. Sleep had claimed her instead.

  Do not sleep again. We have to learn. Are there more books?

  Perhaps, she thought back. This was the palace, after all. Wasn't there an entire library here somewhere? She pushed to her feet. She would have to be quiet, assuming the Emperor truly did sleep on the other side of the bathing chamber. After a minimum toilette, she tiptoed to her door and peered through the latticework. As expected, two guards remained against the door. They seemed alert, more's the pity, despite the late hour. But they were male, and since she had seen more than one pregnant former dancer, she had an idea exactly how to get just about anything she wanted.

  "My lady!" one of the guards exclaimed, while both straightened to attention. "Is something amiss?"

  She pulled open the door, abruptly thrusting her swollen stomach forward to exaggerate her bulk while simultaneously pressing a hand to her lower back. Then she waddled. It was a hideous movement, awkward and hard on the knees, but to the young men before her, it only meant one thing: cranky pregnant woman.

  "Of course there's something wrong! I'm the size of a house, my feet are swollen, my head aches, and that flea-bitten mattress is lumpier than a rock quarry." Despite the vehemence of her complaints, she kept her voice low and raspy, as if her throat was hoarse from screaming. She was still desperately aware of the Emperor's bedroom nearby. "I need food. And a tonic. Now."

  "Of course," the first guard answered, and bowed deeply before her. "I will get something immediately—"

  "No, no!" she snapped. "Don't be an idiot. Do you know what foods I need to eat? What herbs turn my stomach? What smells?" She waved her hand in front of her nose and turned away from the second guard as if he had not bathed. He hadn't, of course, which made it an easier performance. "You." She pointed at him. "Back away. You foul the air." Then she turned to the first guard. "You. Show me the way to the library."

  The smelly guard hastily jumped back while the other guard bowed. "My apologies, my lady, but if you would just tell me what food—"

  She stepped forward, using her belly to shove him out of the way. He scrambled backward quickly, but she had been fast enough; she had managed to touch him, and immediately gasped in pretended pain, crumpling against the wall. Both guards rushed to assist her, but she batted their hands away with all the violence she dared. "Don't touch me!" she hissed. "You have hurt me on purpose! What's your name? I'm going to tell the Emperor! Ohhh!"

  Then, just to cap the performance, she began to cry. She hated how pitiful and childish she sounded. Indeed, if anyone at home saw her, they would howl with laughter. This was not how she behaved. Ever. But these poor guards didn't know that. And so they fell over themselves trying to think of a way to help.

  She sobbed unhappily. "Give me a cloth, buffoon!"

  They did, and she blew her nose, then threw it at them in petty anger. "Take this away. It stinks! Oooh, you think I'm fat and ugly and completely insane, don't you?"

  They blinked stupidly at her. "Of course not, my lady—"

  "Shut up! Just shut up! I know you do. Oh, I need something to read, something that will calm my nerves. That's all I want. Can't you please just take me to the library?"

  "My lady, please." Guard One was practically on his knees before her, begging. "Please let us get a book for you."

  She straightened, stamping her foot in impatience. "No! I want to pick it myself." Then she abruptly pointed at Guard Two. "You! Bring me some fruit. And soup. Hot soup. With anstou root in it. And you"—she pointed at Guard One—"you take me to the library."

  "My lady," began the first guard. He spoke calmly, gently, indicating he was clearly a man used to dealing with irrational females. "The Emperor worries about your safety. It is dangerous to go about these hallways unprotected."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Rachy and I already wandered about this evening." She sighed petulantly. "He said I could have anything I wanted. And I want a book! A good book. And I'm going to get one." She started stomping down the hallway—farther away from the Emperor's room. Both guards scrambled after her, but they couldn't stop her. After all, every time they came close, she complained of their smell. She wished she could summon up a good retch, but her stomach remained ridiculously empty.

  "No," she suddenly snapped at Guard Two. "Your smell will foul my food. Don't you ever brush your teeth? You, show me the way to the libr—ow! Ow! Owwwww! Don't touch me! I'm all swollen, and everything hurts!"

  She kept inching her way down the hall. If they tried to physically stop her, she simply crumpled in pain. She had enough achy muscles and swollen body parts to make this incredibly easy. Then she added a few irrational and contradictory demands, not to mention complaints that they hated her, and Guard One was all too willing to go get her food. Which left the other one—the one obviously unused to moody females—to lead the way while keeping ahead of her, supposedly to reduce his smell. She was fortunate that it was the middle of the night, otherwise there would be a much greater number of guards about. Plus, only the junior guards got night duty. T
hat meant they were that much more nervous about waking their superiors.

  Unfortunately, they weren't complete idiots. She had barely gotten down two flights of stairs before an older, obviously well-seasoned soldier appeared. She immediately dissolved into tears and whimpered that she wanted to go to the library. He rolled his eyes and agreed. Soon six guards accompanied her to a chamber filled to bursting with scrolls and tablets and ancient texts. Perfect!

  Then the guards rousted a sleepy, ancient-looking librarian to help her: a man, of course, which made things even easier. She settled down with food to one side and all the books of the realm on the other—or so it seemed. Then she did her best to remember everything her parents had taught her about research. Unfortunately, it wasn't much. But what she did remember was that a true academic—or in this case, a true librarian—is never happier than when sharing his passion with another interested soul. And what interested her right then was history. Dag Racho's history. And just as she expected, the Emperor had a large enough ego to stock his private library full of his own self-importance.

  She started with a child's text, as it was likely the fastest and easiest to read. It was also what the ancient librarian gave her. She read all about the dark days of the Dragon Wars, where one warlord after another fought to the near decimation of the land and population. Then a savior appeared. The picture showed a boy named Racho, a commoner and an orphan, digging through garbage to survive. Then one day two dragonlords were fighting overhead. Racho led a group of people into caves to protect them. And while he searched through the tunnels for food to share with everyone, he chanced upon a dragon clutch.

  Only one egg lay in the clutch; all the others were dark, dead stones. But at that moment, the courageous boy took matters into his own hands. Vowing to protect the land and the people the dragonlords had forgotten, the boy incubated the egg. It took many years of hardship and deprivation, but in his struggles, the boy grew strong. In fact, the text suggested, he grew stronger, better and more understanding exactly because of his earlier deprivation. In the end, he arose on his glorious Copper dragon and in amazing battle after battle, he defeated and killed all the other dragonlords, thereby ushering in an era of peace and prosperity for all of Ragona.