by Rinelle Grey
Finally, they seemed to grasp the situation and were spurred into action. “Get some food out here,” Mesrian demanded. “Everything we’ve got. At once. And hide all these belongings. We can’t let him know we were planning to run.”
Someone else was taking over. Karla wanted to sag in a corner and get her breath back. Her legs were still shaking, and she wasn’t sure they’d stop any time soon. She wanted to let someone else sort out this mess. It wasn’t her problem, especially not now Taurian was mating another woman.
Except she was stuck here. If she tried to run, she risked Ultrima coming after her. That thought sent a cold shiver, hell, a freezing ice storm, up her spine.
They weren’t in the clear yet. They wouldn’t be until Ultrima was gone.
Until then, the best thing any of them could do was to help put on a convincing mating. And to do that, they were going to need more than a feast.
Taurian was going to need a mate.
When Karla looked around for Wayrian, she wasn’t surprised to see her standing near the back of the cavern, her hand to her throat and her eyes wide. Even as other dragons began to rush around her, she didn’t move.
Was she stupid? Did she not get what was happening? Did she not realise she was integral to this ruse? Karla waited for one of the other dragons to notice her, preferably to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her.
But they all kept rushing past as though they didn’t see her.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the passageway leading down into the lair. “I hope the food is to your liking.” Taurian’s voice was loud, as though letting everyone in the room know he was coming.
Ultrima’s reply was quieter, and his words obscured.
There was no time to hesitate. She had to do something, or they were all in trouble. Karla raced across the room, grabbed Wayrian’s arm and pulled her back into the corridor on the opposite side of the room just before Taurian and Ultrima entered the chamber.
“Where is your room?” she hissed.
Wayrian was shaking like a leaf, and looked up at her blankly.
The young woman wouldn’t last half a day in Taurian’s world. Karla was surprised she’d made it to adulthood when the dragon’s lives seemed so full of danger.
If she didn’t need her right now, she’d walk away and leave her to her fate.
Unfortunately, she did. “Your room,” she repeated.
Wayrian stared at her for a moment, then pointed down the passageway.
She could have been pointing to any of the rooms. Karla gave up on getting anything of any use out of her. “Lead the way.”
Wayrian could walk, at least. She headed down the corridor, her gait slightly unsteady. About half way down, she stopped walking to turn and ask, “Is Ultrima going to kill us?”
“He probably wants to try, but I don’t intend to let him kill me, or anyone else here, if I can help it. What about you?”
Wayrian paled. “I can’t do anything to stop him. How can you?”
How could she be so cowardly? How could any of them think she would make a suitable mate for Taurian? Karla wanted to scream at her, but there wasn’t time for jealously right now. She swallowed her own feelings and tried to make her words gentle.
“By not giving up. You’re supposed to be preparing to mate with the prince. The prince who’s just bought everyone here some time by inviting the enemy to his mating ceremony. Even if you don’t know what to do personally, you can help him do what he’s chosen by preparing for the ceremony.”
Wayrian’s face slowly changed from scared and uncertain, to determined. Once Karla stopped talking, she nodded decisively, and half walked, half ran down the corridor.
Karla followed. They were getting somewhere at last.
But when Wayrian entered a doorway on the left, the young dragon woman stopped just inside the doorway and stared around the room. “I don’t have a mating outfit.”
Karla ground her teeth. Could no one do anything around here without having it spelled out for them? She wanted to shake the girl and tell her it didn’t matter what she wore. More than that, she wanted to push her aside and take her place. She would do it so much better than this scared young girl.
Instead, she forced herself to take a deep breath. That would achieve nothing. Besides, a wedding dress was half the point of a wedding. Though dragons seemed to wear a lot less than humans in general, given the way Taurian had reacted to clothes, and his comments about their importance, dragons weren’t too different to humans in that respect.
Meaning to fool Ultrima, they would need a mating outfit.
Why Karla was the one trying to figure this out, she didn’t know. She didn’t even know what dragons even wore to a mating. Or, more importantly, how they were going to get it.
“Does someone have one you can borrow? Has anyone else been mated recently?” she asked.
To her surprise, Wayrian blushed. She looked at the ground and said, in such a quiet voice that Karla could barely hear her, “A mating outfit is not fit to wear a second time.”
Not fit to wear a second time? Whatever did she… Oh. The reason an outfit might not be wearable after the mating ceremony hit Karla like a sledgehammer. And given how glibly Taurian had torn the buttons on her shirt in their last Mesmer mating, she was pretty sure her guess was accurate.
Sure enough not to ask for clarification anyway.
Why was she the one doing this? She should be off in a bar somewhere, preferably on a sunny tropical beach, trying to pretend she wasn’t grieving the loss of the man she loved. Not helping his mate prepare for their mating ceremony.
There wasn’t anyone else though. Right now, she needed to focus on saving her life, and that of her family and friends, stuck outside in the dragon’s lair with the dragons. This was no time for regrets or jealousy, much as they burned. There was a dragon outside who wanted to kill them all.
Who would kill them if they didn’t have a mating costume.
“Is there anyone who’s going to be mated soon?” she asked desperately. “Who might have an outfit that is suitable to wear?”
Wayrian’s eyes widened. “Vesrian might. If it’s finished. She’s due to be mated at the end of the moon cycle.”
“Right. You wait here. We can’t risk Ultrima seeing you until you’re dressed. I’ll go find Vesrian.”
Wayrian nodded obediently, and Karla tried not to think too harshly of the look of relief in her eyes at being told what to do. It wasn’t the girl’s fault she was in this position. She hadn’t asked for it. Her grandfather had insisted on it.
Not that she’d said no.
Karla shook her head. Not her problem. She needed to focus on the task at hand.
Like how to find Vesrian, she thought, as she stared out at the large group of dragons, all gaping open mouthed at Taurian and Ultrima standing in the middle of the room. Karla could hardly blame them, the sight of the two dragons talking like they were old friends set her own heart thumping uncomfortably. No one seemed to be wondering what had happened to Wayrian, or trying to figure out how to keep up the charade of the mating ceremony.
Karla picked a dragon at random, a middle aged female near the edge of the crowd, and approached her, making sure she stayed in the shadows, and out of sight of Taurian and Ultrima.
“Do you know Vesrian?” she hissed.
The woman dragged her eyes away from the two leaders in the centre of the room, and focused on Karla. As soon as she recognised her, her face screwed up. “I have bigger problems to deal with than you.”
Karla ground her teeth. These dragons were so busy hating anyone who wasn’t like them that they didn’t seem to realise who the real enemy was. Why was she even bothering?
Her eyes fell on Taurian, bravely hiding his own fear, and pretending nothing was wrong, and her heart ached.
She was bothering because she couldn’t just give up on him. Even if he couldn’t ever be hers.
“I’m trying to help,” she said firml
y. “If we don’t produce a mating, Ultrima will kill us all. I need to find Wayrian a mating outfit, and she tells me Vesrian may have one.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Why would you want to help us?” she whispered.
Somehow, Karla suspected she wouldn’t believe her if she told the truth—that Karla would try to help anyone in this situation. So she answered with the more believable, but no less true, reason.
“Because I’m stuck here with you. You think Ultrima is going to care that I’m human? If we give him the slightest excuse, he’s going to kill everyone in this lair, including me and my family.”
The woman regarded her for a few moments, then obviously decided to trust her. She glanced back at the two dragons in the centre of the room, but since they were paying no attention to anything other than each other, she turned back to Karla. “I’ll get her. Where do you want me to send her?”
That would probably be less noticeable than Karla wandering around looking for her. Ultrima knew her too well. “To Wayrian’s chambers.”
Another step closer. Surely she didn’t need to do anything more. Karla had no wish to watch Wayrian dress for her mating ceremony. Just the thought twisted her stomach. It wasn’t her business, or her problem. Surely the other woman could help her?
Unfortunately, Wayrian had shown no more ability to figure anything out for herself than the rest of the dragons had. Karla heaved a sigh. She was going to have to see this through. She shot one last, longing look at Taurian, and then headed back to Wayrian’s chambers.
Vesrian arrived not long after. The young woman, not much older than Wayrian, stared at both of them, her arms crossed. “What do you want?”
No point beating about the bush. “We need to borrow your mating outfit,” Karla said firmly.
“What?” Vesrian stared at her wide eyed. “No. Just… no. You’re a human, so you don’t get it, but you don’t ‘borrow’ a mating outfit. They’re only used once.”
“So Wayrian told me,” Karla said flatly. “I may not know all the dragon customs, but I do know that the only reason Ultrima hasn’t attacked Taurian yet is because he was promised a mating. Do you want to be the one to go out there and tell him that isn’t going to happen?”
Vesrian’s pale skin went a shade paler. “Whether Ultrima attacks Taurian or not isn’t my problem,” she said resentfully. “This whole fight has nothing to do with me. I just want to get mated next week. Do you know how long it takes to organise a mating? Or to make a mating outfit?”
“No, I don’t, but if it’s anything like human matings, I can guess it takes a long time. But do you think that matters right now? While Taurian may be Ultrima’s first target, do you think he’s going to stop there? If we don’t find a way to escape from Ultrima, you’re not going to have a mating. Not next week, not ever.”
The young dragon folded her arms and glared at Karla. “There has to be another way. Now that we have our prince back, he can defeat Ultrima, can’t he?”
Did these dragons not get it? Vesrian was acting like a spoilt teenager, or one of those bridezillas. How was Karla supposed to get through to her?
“All six of the princes and princesses couldn’t defeat Ultrima before they went to sleep, what gives you the idea Taurian can do it on his own now?”
“Well, why should I sacrifice everything I’ve worked for because he’s too weak to protect us? The elders should have let Ultrima into his Mesmer chambers long ago, and then we wouldn’t be dealing with any of this.”
“How dare you speak of your prince like that.” Wayrian’s forceful voice shocked Karla. She stared at the young water dragon, who glared at the other woman, her hands on her hips. “Do you realise what price you could pay for such treason? Why are you even hesitating? If your prince requires your service, you should be bowing and asking what more you can do to help.”
Vesrian looked just as surprised at Wayrian finding a backbone as Karla felt. “I… I didn’t mean that. I just…” She glanced over at Karla, then back to Wayrian. “I wouldn’t talk to my prince like that, but she’s just a human.”
Karla was getting even more sick of these dragons looking down on her because she was a human. She bit back a sigh. Why was she even bothering?
“She is assisting the prince, and assisting me,” Wayrian said. “So do her bidding at once. Fetch the mating outfit. You shall be justly compensated once this matter is taken care of.”
Vesrian actually dipped her head respectfully. “Of course, Wayrian. At once.” Without further argument, she left the room.
“I’m impressed,” Karla said.
She turned back to Wayrian, only to see the young woman shaking like a leaf. “I didn’t want to threaten her.” She bit her lip. “Do you think I did the wrong thing?”
How would this uncertain woman ever be the princess Taurian needed to defeat Ultrima? How would she ever help him rule his clan, or wake his brothers and sisters? She wasn’t even confident in her own choices and actions, how could she ever be a ruler?
Karla bit back a laugh. Would she be any better? At least Wayrian was ready to defend her future mate when someone threatened him. That said something for her, didn’t it? Maybe she would rise to the occasion.
The thought was like a stab to her heart. Karla didn’t even want to consider the possibility that Wayrian might be good for Taurian. She felt like a traitor to her own heart, even thinking it. She shook the feeling off. Saving the clan. Saving Taurian. That was her priority, and she’d take anything that helped her do that with open arms.
“No, you did the right thing,” Karla said firmly. “What else needs to be prepared for the mating?”
“Nothing more tonight,” Wayrian said. “The first night of the mating ceremony is simply feasting and celebrating. The public bit anyway.” Her face went bright red and her eyes slipped away from Karla’s down to the floor.
Karla’s chest constricted painfully and with a suddenness that took her breath away. She hadn’t even thought about what would happen after the mating ceremony. Or during it. Even though she knew that Taurian would have to sleep with Wayrian three times to mate with her, she had pushed that thought to the back of her mind.
Now it was there, out in the open, taunting her with the fact that tonight, if all went to plan, Taurian and Wayrian would be having sex.
Karla shoved that thought away before it could really take hold. She couldn’t change anything now. She’d already been through all this, and made her peace with it. More importantly, right now she had a job to do.
“We only need to concern ourselves with what’s done publicly,” she said quickly. She didn’t think Wayrian was going to volunteer any details, but she didn’t want to risk it. She most certainly didn’t want to know what would be happening after the celebration that night.
Luckily, Vesrian turned up with the mating outfit at that moment, cutting off the conversation.
“Right, if the two of you can handle this, I’m going to check on Taurian,” Karla said.
“No, please,” Wayrian said quickly. Then she blushed, and asked, “Would you mind helping me dress? It takes two, and I’d really appreciate your help.”
Couldn’t Vesrian do it? Karla looked at the young woman, and though she was hiding it, she still looked sullen. Perhaps asking her to help dress another woman in her own mating outfit was a bit unfair.
Then again, was it fair to ask Karla to help dress the woman who was about to mate the man she loved?
Karla heaved a sigh. None of this was fair. None of it could be until Ultrima was defeated. No point arguing about things being unfair when there were bigger things at stake.
What she needed to do right now was make sure Wayrian turned up for the mating. And the best way to do that was to stay here with her until she did.
“Sure,” she agreed.
Vesrian disappeared almost before the words had left her mouth.
Wayrian carefully unwrapped the leather bundle the woman had left, a slightly awestruck ex
pression in her eyes.
Curiosity overcame Karla’s reluctance. Just what sort of clothes did dragons wear to their mating ceremonies anyway? Taurian had spoken so highly of it, that she couldn’t help wondering.
Wayrian held up a small, white, leather bikini top, elaborately decorated with several rows of beads, their colour exactly the same as the red earth of the entrance mound to the lair. Hanging off the bottom, on strips of leather, was a row of white feathers.
Karla bit her lip. Perhaps a good thing that she wasn’t the one mating Taurian. She wasn’t sure she was up to wearing this sort of outfit. A bikini at the beach was one thing, but to a wedding?
Somehow, she couldn’t help imagining Taurian’s eyes when he saw her in something like this. How they’d widen, and sweep over her appreciatively. Her body reacted instantly, and suddenly the underground room seemed hot, even though it should have been cooling, with the temperature dropping rapidly outside.
“It’s beautiful,” Wayrian whispered, reminding Karla that she wasn’t going to be the one Taurian was staring at. Wayrian was.
The realisation was like a bucket of cold water on the flames.
“No time for admiring, let’s get you dressed,” Karla said shortly. No point in prolonging this. She didn’t have the time, or the inclination, to pretend this was a real mating—even if the end result would be the same.
Wayrian nodded and began stripping. Since she only wore a simple tunic, that process took mere seconds, then she was slipping on the mating bikini. Luckily, the simple design was easily adaptable, as it was a little large in places.
Karla pushed aside her own issues, and helped tie the leather strips to make it fit with at least a degree of acceptability. The matching leather skirt that Wayrian pulled out next covered a little more than the top. It went at least half way to Wayrian’s knees, and the tip of the row of feathers brushed her knees.
The young woman, with her blushing cheeks and uncertain look, looked every bit a tribal bride. Karla could hardly bear to look at her.
But apparently avoiding it was easier said than done.
“Does it look okay?” Wayrian’s voice was uncertain.