by Delia Castel
“You smell nervous,” the timbre of her voice held a beguiling note. She held the crystal goblet under his nose.
The pungent, bitter aroma of wormwood meandered into his nostrils, making the nerve endings deep within his nasal cavity sing. He clenched his teeth, stopping his tongue from darting out to lick his lips. Fixing his gaze on the tip of her nose, he avoided both her crimson eyes and the drink that had been his daily companion since the betrayal of his two dearest friends. “One would be apprehensive in the den of a viper, My Lady.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You give me too much credit. I am a mother trying to do the best for her children. That is all.”
“You were going to give me information about my uncle.”
“Was I?” her eyes turned as sharp as spikes. “What makes you think I won’t just pluck that vial from your pocket?”
“You could,” he drew out the word, “but there are three more vials in my brother’s possession.”
She bared her teeth. “Do you think I cannot tell the difference between dragon’s blood and that of a mare?”
Matheson’s stomach dropped. He wanted to kick himself for miscalculating the sensitivity of a she-dragon’s nose. She swallowed the distilled wormwood in one gulp. “Go home. I have nothing to tell you.”
“If you thought I was bluffing, then why did you invite me in?”
As quick as lightning, she nicked his jaw and held up a bead of blood on her finger. Her face split into a grin. “For the opportunity to capture your blood.”
Matheson lurched forward, trying to grab at her hand, but she stepped back, pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed the blood into its center. He choked. Terror clenched his chest within its claws, constricting his racing heart. He had to get it back, or she could pass on that blood to any unscrupulous wizard to perform a myriad of wicked curses. Wresting it out of her grip would be impossible, so he would have to use his words. “Do you really think my uncle spent the proceeds of the apothecary stores on a private army to reclaim Habilis?”
Her lips tightened, and she clenched the handkerchief.
“Magnus Rex said Hertz owed him a King’s ransom in debt for all the papaver he used for Mother and Father’s murder. That, plus his many excesses is where your money went.”
“I don’t believe you.” The trembling of her lips undermined her confident tone.
“Think! Why did the Assassin’s Guild helped him capture my mate? He didn’t hire them for the job. If he had, she would already be in his clutches, and you wouldn’t have had to fight my brother. The Guild purchased his debt and want to collect the money for themselves.”
Face paling, she pressed a hand to her chest. “You are lying!”
“Did he tell you that he’d hired the Guild to retake Habilis? Since when do Assassins help customers raise funds for their assignments?”
Her throat bobbed. “Hertz would never—”
“He lied to you.” Matheson softened his voice. “It’s not the first time he has hurt someone to fulfill his selfish aims, and with your help, we can make it the last.”
Lady Brimstone shook her head. “I don’t believe you. Hertz is devoted to me.”
“Dragons in love do not persuade their ladies to sell assets to fund their own bride prices. If he was serious about helping you reclaim your country, he would have petitioned noblemen to fight for your cause or tried to get the King’s Regiment on board.”
She turned her head away. “You are being hurtful.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Leave, before I transform and tear you apart.”
“Not until you give me information on his whereabouts.”
“Leave!” She whirled around, flashing her eyes and baring half-transformed teeth. Her hands, now claws, swiped at his neck.
Matheson jumped back. The daughters shot to their feet and wrapped their arms around their mother. Lady Brimstone sobbed on the shoulder of the one in mauve.
Furstinna turned to him with red-rimmed eyes. “I will see you out.”
“Thank you,” he replied, trying to keep his breathing under control.
She broke away from her mother and gestured with her hand for him to leave the room. “This way, please.”
Taking one final look at the inconsolable she-dragon, Matheson exhaled a disappointed breath and strode out of the room. The trip had been a failure, and he had learned nothing except perhaps that maybe Uncle Hertz had left town not having informed Lady Brimstone.
They walked through the darkened hallway in silence, and at the door, Furstinna murmured, “Was what you said true about the Assassin’s Guild?”
“That he owes them money because Magnus Rex sold them his debt?”
She nodded.
“It was all true. Magnus Rex told me of the debt and his intentions to pass it on to the Guild. When Uncle Hertz abducted her, my mate reported that an accountant from the Assassin’s Guild had assisted.” He stared into the she-dragon’s doleful eyes. “Do you know what my uncle wants with my mate?”
She shook her head. “I only know that she’s a key to a fortune vast enough to hire a private militia to crush the humans in Habilis.”
He nodded, having overheard Ella saying similar on the day of the ball when she had come to spy. “Is your stepsister really out running errands?”
“She’s collecting food from the neighbors. Everyone thinks they’re donating to Ella, but it’s going to all of us.” Her eyes glistened with tears, and she grimaced. “Your uncle has bled this family dry over the years with his empty promises. We have next to nothing left.”
Matheson’s eyes widened. “Furstinna. Tell me what you know about my uncle’s whereabouts. My brothers and I will bring him to justice for what your family has suffered.”
She bowed her head, seeming to consider his request. Matheson held his breath. If she could give him an inkling of Uncle Hertz’ next move, then this trip would not have been in vain. Eventually, she ran her fingers through her dark curls. “For what it’s worth, when the High Sheriff came here to ask if we’d seen anything suspicious on the night of the murders, your uncle was just as shocked as we were. He wasn’t exactly distraught, but he did wonder who could have killed his brother.”
“Did he?” said Matheson through clenched teeth. If Hertz had lied to Lady Brimstone about what he was doing with her money, he could have faked his reaction so as not to appear guilty of arranging a double-murder. He would never be able to confide in her completely, because one day, she would tire of his swindling and report all his secrets. Matheson inclined his head and stepped out of the door. “Thank you, for restraining your mother. I will not forget your kindness.”
He stepped into the cool, night air and was halfway down the garden path when she spoke again. “Lord Auburn?”
He turned. “Yes?”
“What you said earlier about a dragon’s intentions…” She wrung her hands. “Was that true?”
“It is.” He waited for her to get to the point.
“As a Dragon Lord, what do you think of my looks?”
“I…” Eyes lingering on her elongated nose and flared nostrils, he gulped. “What?”
“Mother has set our bride prices so high, but the only dragon who ever showed a genuine interest in me can’t afford it. She says we should save ourselves for a noble of wealth and prestige, and not a commoner.”
Matheson nodded. His old self would have told her that high-ranking male dragons would never pay a premium for a female who fell short of human standards. But the pain of having not met the standards of his brothers towards Marigold still reverberated in his bones. He wracked his mind for the best answer. “If there is a dragon who truly loves you, I would suggest taking up his smaller dowry and not wasting a day more pursuing disinterested lords and princes.”
“Thank you, Lord Auburn.” She descended from the doorstep. “Hours after the ball, Mother arrived home naked and looking like she had been in a fight. We didn’t know what had happened to her, but we knew Governor
Hertz was involved.”
His heart sped up. “Yes?”
“Hertz has been staying with us, but we haven’t seen him since the ball.” She pulled out a scroll from her skirts. Uncle Hertz’ seal was visible on the parchment. “This arrived earlier for Mother. It’s likely full of excuses or a request for money. I didn’t want to give it to her, but you should have it, in case he reveals his location.”
“Thank you. Is there anything you can do to retrieve my blood?”
“I’ll try. I hope you find the real murderer.”
Matheson tucked the scroll into his inside pocket and rushed out of the garden, eager to return home and read its contents.
Chapter 12
The next morning, after visiting Berrin with breakfast, Marigold sat cross-legged on the rooftop, squinting up at the sky. The sun was nearly at its zenith, shining down from an azure sky devoid of clouds, permeating her borrowed breeches and linen shirt. Several feet away, half a dozen griffins rested in massive nests, making shrill chirping sounds at each other. Polaris flew around the neighborhood, waiting for her to form a connection. She had failed to see out of his eyes the night before, and he had suggested transforming in case his dragon form was easier to reach.
Using the meditative techniques the doctor had shared, she expanded her consciousness and thought of Polaris with the same intensity she would use when thinking about Berrin. Every time she felt about to reach him, a band of fear would hold her back. It was ridiculous, as she loved both brothers equally, and she couldn’t fathom why her powers weren’t growing. She cast her mind back to the wonderful time they’d spent, making love under the stars in the woods, but it had no effect.
She thumped the enchanted animal skin. “Damn it!”
Something large and soft and feathery nudged her arm. She turned and stared into pale, yellow eyes that were as sharp as the beak curving down from his face. The griffin cawed. He was larger than the others and sat on tawny, back paws that matched a swishing tail ending with a mahogany tuft.
“Am I disturbing you?”
He shook his head.
“Are you Blacksmith?” she stretched out an arm and stroked his massive, white-feathered head.
He nodded.
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
With another caw, he nodded again. Then, he indicated to the roof door with his head.
Marigold chewed her bottom lip. It was a pity that there was not an easier way to communicate with the griffins. They seemed to be such intelligent creatures. She continued asking Blacksmith what he wanted, but after saying no to food, water, medicine and toys, the griffin gave a frustrated squall and padded away. She made a mental note to get Polaris to speak to the creature when he arrived and to find out what he wanted.
The roof door opened, and Matheson walked in holding a scroll. He halted, as though surprised to see her, but continued walking.
He paused at where she sat. “Marigold—”
“Why are you calling me that?” The sound of her name on his lips felt fake, reminding her of the night of the ball, when he had been overly solicitous, only to leave her when she needed him the most. She felt more comfortable with the volatile, sneering Matheson, who burned with hate for Governor Hertz. That version of him was genuine compared to the one trying to emulate Polaris.
“That’s your name, isn’t it?”
She raised her shoulders. “It seems strange that you’re calling me by my name after all this time.”
“Fine, then.” He widened his stance. “Is Princess better?”
“Yes.” She folded her arms.
He sighed. “I didn’t come here to argue with you. Where’s Polaris? He needs to know what Uncle Hertz is planning.”
Her heart jolted into action. “What’s he doing now?”
“In his letter to Lady Brimstone, he said he had applied for the authority to annul your mating bonds.”
“W-what?”
“On the grounds that the one you have with Berrin is invalid due to his age, and the one you have with me is unconsummated.”
Her face pinched. Even when under scrutiny for treason, the dragon couldn’t forget about obtaining her. “Can I see the scroll?”
“You think this is a ploy to get into your breeches?”
“I want to see for myself.”
He held the scroll under her nose. “Here you are… Princess.”
“Thank you.” Forcing the irritation out of her voice, she took the proffered item. Their fingers brushed, and a jolt of arousal twitched at her core. It dawned on her why she couldn’t increase her powers. The haremage was incomplete without Matheson. She uncrossed her legs and stretched them out, only for the friction to awaken her swelling clitoris. Breathing hard, she clenched her teeth and unrolled the scroll.
“I think he intends to form a bond with you himself,” he said.
She shuddered. “Do you think so?”
“How else would a dragon extract a fortune from you apart from marriage?”
Marigold decided not to share her theory about Governor Hertz wanting to install her in a brothel as a broodmare and to help young dragons reach an early maturity. Speaking it aloud made the threat feel too real. Until something had been done about that awful dragon, there was no point in upsetting herself by voicing horrific speculations. The parchment contained exactly what Matheson had outlined, with a request to arrange a speedy betrothal for one of Ella’s stepsisters to gain a bride price.
She handed back the scroll. “Thank you.”
He put his hands on his hips. “I thought Polaris would be up here. Where is he?”
“Flying about.” She pointed at a blot in the sky. “We’re trying to see if I can connect to him like I can with Berrin.”
Blacksmith squawked again and flicked his head towards Matheson.
Marigold grimaced. Was the griffin suggesting that she mate with him to complete her bond with the brothers? She chewed her bottom lip. It would certainly stop Governor Hertz’ plans to break her mating bonds.
Her gaze flickered up and down Matheson’s form. His rust colored hair skimmed his shoulders, contrasting beautifully with his pale skin and jade-green eyes. When he wasn’t scowling, he was a little more handsome than his brothers, she supposed. And underneath the bastian shirt and tan breeches, his body was well-muscled, albeit stouter than his brothers.
He narrowed his eyes. “What are you looking at?”
She pulled herself to her feet. “He couldn’t break our bond if we consummated it.”
He furrowed his brows. “Yes.”
“You’d become a full dragon.”
“That is… true.” Lowering his chin, he stepped back, as though she was suggesting the world was round.
She stepped towards him, her pulse quickening. They’d only need to do it once, then she could go back to staying out of his way. It was a brilliant idea, and best of all, Polaris was around to make sure Matheson didn’t do anything strange. “And I’ll come into my full power as a spirit-dragon.”
“Get to the point,” he snarled.
“We should have sex.”
He folded his arms, glaring down his nose at her. “No.”
“What?”
“I will not be used as a means to an end.” He turned his head and sniffed.
Irritation spread across her skin like wildfire, and she clenched her teeth. “What was all that talk about having me on the table next to the charcuterie and all that other filth?”
“You liked it?” The tiniest of smiles appeared on the corner of his lip.
Her gaze dropped to his breeches, the crotch of which bulged with a thick erection. “No, but it looked like you find the idea of having sex with me appealing.”
His lips widened into a grin. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me, but I never thought you’d beg for my cock so soon. If you want it, wrestle me to the ground and take it, now.”
She reared back. “Shouldn’t we go to your room?”
�
��No. We do it here and now, or not at all.”
Huffing a breath, she said, “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes and lie down, then?”
He leaned in close, lips grazing her ear. “Like I said…” His rumbling murmur made her nipples tingle. “You’ll have to throw me down.”
“You’re serious.”
His smug grin was annoying enough for her to shove him hard onto the enchanted animal skin. He fell with very little effort, his hair fanning around his gloating face. “Who knew you would yearn for me badly enough to resort to violence!”
“I’m just doing what you asked.” She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of stripping him naked. Instead, she knelt beside him and unbuttoned his breeches, revealing a long, thick erection corded with veins and crowned with a bulbous, purple head. Her eyes widened, and the pulse between her leg pounded.
“This is the point where you say ‘My, Matheson, what a huge cock you have.’”
“It only looks big because you’re so short.” She ran her finger down its length.
He smirked. “I’ll take that as your seal of approval.”
She licked her lips and gripped it hard at the base, enjoying the way a clear bead of precum oozed out of its slit. It was a very enticing organ, but she wasn’t about to mention that to the conceited fool.
“Admit it,” he said. “It’s huge, compared to my brothers.”
“I think you’re mistaking that with your arrogance.”
His eyes flashed. “Get on top of me before I change my mind.”
She pulled off her boots, unbuttoned her breeches and kicked them aside. Right now, she didn’t feel like kissing someone so annoying or being naked in front of him. He was likely to continue his retinue of self-congratulatory boasts, dousing the tiny spark of arousal that had formed from the sight of that thick member.