Another question, shared in silence between them. Heat and desire radiated from his skin, his eyes, his being, but he would not continue on if she wasn’t ready. But who was she to deny this creature? This beast turned man who had tugged at her heartstrings before she even knew what he truly was. This foreigner who could take draghan form. A man who could crush her or easily enslave her but had only ever treated her as an equal, a colleague. A friend. No man had ever treated her as such. She had only ever been the bastard daughter of one of the Morrigan’s generals. At first a young child slave, meant to prepare meals and mend clothes and treat the wounds of the war goddess’ soldiers, then a woman warrior herself and a thing of amusement to serve them in other ways.
A shudder of hatred, disgust, and fear coursed through Brienne at the sudden rush of bad memories. Dorran moved to back away, cupping her face in that gentle, reverent way of his.
“No!” she rasped, clutching at his arms even tighter as she dug her nails into his flesh. Curse her haunted past. “I want this. I want you.”
And to show him, she pushed herself up and kissed him, carding her fingers through his thick, dark hair. Dorran returned her kiss, wrapping one arm around her back to support her. Holding his lips with hers, Brienne trailed her fingers down his muscled chest until they brushed up against his erection. It was Dorran’s turn to gasp, his hand pressing into the small of her back, tempted to curl into a fist. With a bit of pressure, Brienne drew Dorran back down and helped guide him to her center. This time, he did not hesitate, thrusting forward with gentle ease as his length slid deep. Brie moaned and caught her breath as he began to move, a slow, sensuous dance she soon became lost in.
As their passion grew, the fierce blaze between them became almost unbearable. But Brienne did not care. All she cared about was the searing presence of Dorran within her and the feelings he evoked as he stroked, first slow and deep, then building up to a faster rhythm. Sensations, both physical and emotional, made it difficult for Brienne to breathe, so she gave herself over, letting instinct take control, and found she knew how to draw out those enticing gasps and moans from him as well.
While dawn’s light softened the sky around them, Brienne and Dorran moved together, every murmur, every touch, every breath between them stoking the flames ever higher until their passion was a blazing inferno that not even Brie’s dark memories could destroy. He rocked into her until her body tightened, spiraling ever upward before splintering into wave after wave of intense pleasure. Brienne cried out, clutching at her lover as her passion unfurled within her. With one final, deep thrust, Dorran joined her, muffling his roar against the heated skin of her neck as his body shuddered above hers.
For several, blissful seconds he lay atop her, his weight partially supported by his arms and strong legs, until they both caught their breath. As the shattering pleasure subsided, Brienne blinked several times to find Dorran gazing down at her, his deep garnet eyes heavy with satiated weariness. He offered her a rakish grin, then rolled them over so that they both lay on one side, Brienne tucked in against him, his arm draped protectively over her middle as he played with tendrils of her hair and kissed along her jaw, down her neck, biting gently at her shoulder. She was too weary, too happy to protest, even if she wished to. Brie drifted off to sleep again, listening to the murmured words of the man who had set her soul on fire and put her heart at ease.
***
Brienne woke with a start when something cold and wet pressed into the hollow of her throat. She sucked in a breath and moved to sit up but sore, overworked muscles convinced her otherwise.
Instead, she plopped back down upon the blankets, groaning as sleep tried to steal her away once again. At least she was warm, she mused, and someone, Dorran no doubt, had taken the effort to pile the extra blankets over her to keep her from growing cold. A warm tingle of pleasure sizzled through her at the thought of the Firiehn shapeshifter, so she reached out inquisitive fingers, trying to find him in the nest of blankets.
She sucked in a breath when that cold dampness touched her neck again. Had rain clouds moved in while she slept? Or could that be snow?
You could at least have the decency to acknowledge my presence, a familiar tone drawled across her mind.
Brienne’s eyes flew open. Mynne! Gods and goddesses of Eile, where had Mynne been earlier that morning when she and Dorran ... ?
The heat of embarrassment crawled up her neck, and Brienne wanted nothing more than to hide under her blankets.
Mynne only gave a wolfish snort and cocked her head to the side. She could not see Brienne, and Brie had closed off the connection between her eyes and her spirit guide’s mind, but Mynne was a wolf. If it hadn’t been obvious what had taken place some hours before, all Mynne had to do was move in close enough to her Faelorehn familiar. Dorran’s scent was all over her.
Do not worry, Mynne sent, her tone on the verge of laughter. I heard you return from the river bank this morning. I thought it a good time for me to go on a very long hunt.
Brienne pushed aside her discomfort at being caught and sat up, clutching the blankets to her chest.
Did you at least find anything? she managed.
The white wolf huffed out a breath and settled down, her chin resting on her paws. Had she eyes, they’d be regarding Brienne with canine guilt at that moment.
No. But he did. Nearly frightened me to death. He flew overhead as I crossed a meadow and caught the deer I stalked. I don’t think he even saw me.
Brienne stilled and stared at her spirit guide.
He took his draghan form?
Mynne opened her mouth in a pant. Yes. Good thing we are so isolated in these mountains. Surely, a hunting party would have been sent out if we’d been close to any settlements. Brienne? Are you well?
Mynne sat back up, her nose testing the air, wondering if danger approached.
No danger, Brienne thought. Only the danger posed to your own heart.
Her spirit guide had picked up on that unexpected pulse of dread. Suddenly, Brienne’s pleasant mood evaporated.
“It’s okay, Mynne,” she said quietly as she fished around for her clothes. “Your news just makes me realize how important it is we reach that dolmarehn. And soon.”
In all truthfulness, Brie was angry at herself for letting her relationship with Dorran go as far as it had. She had known from the very beginning, when she first noticed her attraction to him, that acting on that desire would only lead to heartache. And now, she had proven herself correct. Only minutes before she had been basking in the afterglow of their shared passion, forgetting she would be bidding farewell to him in only a few days’ time. Foolish, foolish girl.
Brienne dressed quickly, folding up the blankets and packing them away onto Dair. By the time she finished, Dorran was traipsing up to their campsite, fully clothed with a young buck slung over his shoulders. For a split second before he took in her expression, Dorran’s eyes sparked with something that set Brie’s stomach fluttering.
No. She could no longer give in to this heated pull between them. That morning, she had let herself slip, but it wouldn’t happen again. Not if she wanted to see him home safe.
Doing her best to make her voice firm, Brienne said, “We really need to get moving. Mynne informs me you took draghan form to get that deer,” she motioned to the dead animal he carried, “but if anyone saw you, they might now be forming a party of hunters to track you down. The portal to Firiehn is a few days farther yet. I’ll help you pack the meat, but then we need to head out.”
Her tone came out cold and distant, as if she was speaking to him during those first few days of their acquaintance. The fire in his eyes cooled, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth withering away. And for a moment, she almost cried out to him, came so close to rushing toward him, spouting apologies for her cold demeanor and that she was not angry with him after all. She was irritated with herself. Angry and frightened and hurting. She feared those who might be tracking them, and she w
orried he had drawn attention with his other form, when they were so close. But most of all, she was terrified that when he crossed through that dolmarehn to return to his own realm, her heart would shatter and fall broken at her feet.
For two days, Brienne and Dorran, followed loyally by Mynne and Dair, continued up through the steep, granite peaks. They’d managed to cross the river during Brienne’s near drowning, and besides the awkward silence that spanned between them, nothing else much impeded their journey. A silence mostly, stubbornly, maintained by Brienne. Dorran would often direct his citrine eyes onto her, cast glances that promised too much, but now more than ever before, she would avert her gaze, unwilling or unable to meet his. He never acted on that desire, however, which made Brie feel even more terrible about the cool distance she’d placed between them. But to give in, to be the one to heal the wound she was responsible for creating, would only make matters worse.
You must let him go, Brie. For all you know, he has a family waiting for him in Firiehn, and even if he does not, for him to stay in Eile is to guarantee his eventual capture and enslavement. Nothing escapes the Morrigan’s notice forever.
That final thought decided it, despite the shudder of regret pulsing through her. But she would not wish such a fate on her worst enemy. Brienne’s lip curled in derision at that. Well, perhaps she would wish it upon Raghnall O’Gadhra, though he was already a slave to the Morrigan in his own right. Brie only wished the goddess would kill him and steal his glamour, finally ridding the world of one more piece of evil filth.
And so, Brienne continued to rebuild that wall of ice Dorran had melted away, even if it resulted in his bad opinion of her in the end. If it meant putting as much space between him and the goddess of war, then she would do anything to make it so.
It was shortly after dawn on the third day when Brie spotted the dolmarehn.
“There,” she breathed, lifting a shaking hand, her index finger pointing in a northerly direction.
Dorran followed her gaze, his scarlet and flame eyes narrowing as his dark brows lowered. His mouth cut a grim line through his short beard, and he grew as motionless as the crags piercing the sky around them.
Like the black maw of some huge, stone dragon, the passageway into Firiehn yawned wide and foreboding at the base of a nearby mountain. It was big enough, Brienne mused, for a draghan much larger than Dorran’s more monstrous form to fit through, and she would have been surprised such an obvious portal between the worlds would be so exposed had it not been nestled in the heart of these particular mountains. No one in their right mind ever ventured to this desolate place. Not only was the weather unpredictable and frigid most of the year, but the wild beasts that legend claimed lived here were described as being even more fearsome than the Morrigan’s horrible creations.
A chill wind furrowed through the crevasses and threw back Dorran’s black hair and cloak. Brienne failed to suppress a shiver, but at least she could blame it on the cold this time. She cast a sideways glance at her travel companion. For once, he did not look at her, that internal heat of his wrapped up tight beneath his skin so she could not feel it. A pang of bitter disappointment blossomed and spread beside her heart, but Brie brushed it aside. It was better this way.
“We should probably camp tonight,” she managed, her voice cracking a little. “Find a good place about halfway down the mountain, and approach the cavern in the morning.”
Without even acknowledging what she had said, Dorran stepped back onto the path and continued following it down the mountain. Sighing, Brienne pulled gently on the horse’s reins and followed him. A pulse of sudden wind slapped her face, bringing to life an icy line marking her cheek. Brienne slowed to a stop and reached up to find a track of tears running down to drip from her chin.
I will miss him, too, Mynne brushed against her mind, her words melancholy.
Clenching her jaw, Brienne tugged on Dair’s reins once more. She would not give herself over to sorrow. She had endured much worse, so she would survive this as well.
That evening, Brie had trouble sleeping. The cold and dark of her memories crept up on her, and although they didn’t pull her under completely, there was no comforting heat to ease her. She had grown so cold, her heart so similar to the frozen, barren plain spreading away from the mountains, that there was nowhere for that spark to burn, nowhere for the fire to take hold and spread its warmth.
Chapter Ten
Dawn greeted Brienne and Dorran through a haze of icy mist which stuck close to the ground like a sea of unruly spirits. Not a good omen, Brienne thought as she rose from her bedroll and eyed the smoking coals from the night before. She ventured a peek at the mass of blankets on the opposite side of the fire pit and fought against the twisting pang in her heart. She would say goodbye to him this day. In less than an hour, she would stand before the dolmarehn and watch him disappear into its depths.
It is for the best, she reminded herself. If you truly care about him, you will send him away, where he will be safe.
Brienne hadn’t realized she’d been broadcasting her thoughts until Mynne whispered gently into her mind, What if we brought him to the Weald with us? How do you know it wasn’t some danger that chased him into our world to begin with?
Bitter tears sprang to Brienne’s eyes, and she turned an angry glare in her spirit guide’s direction.
This is hard enough as it is, Mynne. And nothing could be worse than falling victim to the war goddess’ whims!
Out of sympathy for her familiar, Mynne whined once and lowered her head to her paws.
Instantly, Brienne felt worse for snapping at her spirit guide, but before she could make her apologies, Dorran stirred and sat up. He turned to look at her, but his expressive eyes grew shuttered and dim. He felt ... cold.
Worry ate at Brienne. Was this because he’d been too long away from Firiehn? Brie had heard stories of Faelorehn men and women venturing off into the mortal world only to return completely drained of their glamour. Without the presence of Eile’s rich magic, they lost their own. Might this be happening to Dorran?
“Come on,” she said, her voice raspy, as she rose from the ground. “You’ve been in Eile too long. You must get home to your own people.”
Dorran didn’t say a word as he followed Brienne’s lead, rising and packing up their blankets before heading down the trail once again.
Just as she had predicted, the journey to the dolmarehn took them less than an hour. The mountains came to an abrupt end here, only a few jagged foothills tapering off to the northeast before that endless plain unfurled toward the distant horizon. The frigid, rock-strewn landscape rolled a little, sparsely carpeted with a short, tough grass even Dair the horse found lacking. Sharp, cool bursts of wind poured from the mountain peaks and raced along the ground, breaking up the mist and sending shivers down Brienne’s spine. Even Mynne, whose thick white fur sustained her against most cold weather, shuddered and hunkered low.
But it was the enormous cave, some fifty or more feet wide and three times as tall, that had captured the small party’s attention. Brienne drew in a deep breath and turned to Dorran, doing her best to keep her emotions shut away.
“This is where we say goodbye, Dorran of Firiehn,” she managed in a breathy voice. “Thank you, for traveling with me and for listening to my troubles.”
She smiled, and held out a hand. A sad, poor excuse for a farewell, considering what they’d shared together, but it was all she could do. What she must do if she wished to get through this parting.
Dorran glanced at her outstretched hand, his dark brow furrowed, his mouth pursed tight. He had been quietly reflective these past few days, skirting the edges of Brie’s cold, distant demeanor. She wondered if he thought she had used him in some callous way; found her pleasure in his embrace, the way Raghnall and his men had once taken advantage of her, only to cast him aside like some scrap of meat. She couldn’t let herself care whether or not this was true.
Dorran opened his mouth to speak,
drawing in one long breath as that fire, so long absent, flared up in his eyes. Would he rage at her for her cruelty? Threaten her for deceiving him? Or, would he simply bid her an easy farewell?
Before she could find out, a rumbling tremor, faint at first, then growing more pronounced, shook the ground beneath their feet. Mynne, who had been sitting curled up beneath Dair’s hooves, leapt up, her hackles spiking along her back. The horse whinnied and danced, his loose reins trailing on the ground as he attempted to evade the unsettling movement. A gust of wind howled down the mountain canyon to their backs, moaning like a banshee as it curled into the giant cavern.
The hairs on the back of Brienne’s neck stood on end, and Dorran snapped his head around, his nostrils flaring.
Acting on instinct, Brienne reached for the sword hanging conveniently at her side. Was the sound coming from the dolmarehn or the plain? It was hard to say, but she had her answer in the next few heartbeats.
Just beyond the edge of the mountain to the south, a great, black mass of bodies poured into view. Mynne howled, Dair screamed, and Dorran drew in a hiss so resemblant of a reptile’s that Brienne thought she saw scales sprout up along his tattooed arms.
The mass moved as one, and as it thundered ever closer, Brienne joined her companions in their dread. Soldiers. The dark, writhing stain upon the landscape was a troupe of soldiers. Black and red-clad soldiers upon dark horses flanked on either side by faelah ... Oh gods and goddesses of Eile. She had been hunted to ground like a fox, after all.
Without hesitation, Brienne spun around and placed her palms against Dorran’s massive chest, shoving him as hard as she could. But it did no good. She might as well try heaving the mountain out of the way.
“Go!” she breathed, her words desperate. No more pretense of indifference. There was no time for that. No time to attempt to hide her emotions. “Now! They are still far enough away that if you run, you can make it to the dolmarehn!”
A Plague of Dragons (A Dragon Anthology) Page 21