She hesitated for a heartbeat before slowly obeying.
“Wrists behind you.” His command was met with a slight tremor of her hands. “Now.”
The assassin’s arms slid behind her back, her hands resting palms up against her sculpted butt. Even in this submissive pose, the woman maintained a regal posture with her chin high and her legs slightly open.
Dragon’s mind wandered to a different scenario, where a soft pillow cushioned her angular body, and he would impart her lessons in pleasure.
“I thought you were in a hurry to leave,” she said, abruptly interrupting Dragon’s thoughts.
His large hand descended upon her wrists, grabbing both of them and marveling at the small size of her bones. The assassin was tall, and her height had tricked him into thinking she was a man, but she was indeed a woman and a severely underfed one at that. Fearing he would bruise her, he relaxed his hold and began wrapping her united wrists with the fabric binding, only to finish his work with a series of expertly woven knots that would tighten if she tried to free herself.
He stood behind her. “Close your legs.”
Again, it took her a moment to obey, but as soon as she did, he tied her ankles together with the remaining length of the bindings.
“Nothing will happen to you if you cooperate.” The assassin didn’t deserve his constant reassurance, but he couldn’t help but notice the way she slightly trembled at his touch, and how she stood proud, even now that the tables were turned and she was defenseless.
“Carellian, let’s go.” Dragon nodded at his loyal draglet, who kept a heavy and yet vigilant eye on the assassin’s every move.
After shaking his head from side to side, Carellian closed his wings, lowered his long neck, and sauntered into the main cave. Dragon grabbed the mercenary by her waist and hoisted her up on his shoulder, securing her legs to his chest as he followed his draglet outside.
Once in the larger chamber, Carellian leaned his shoulder toward Dragon, who climbed to his seat one-handed and maneuvered the woman belly-down on his lap, her head and legs dangling on either side of the draglet. With one soft caress between Carellian’s shoulders, Dragon commanded him to take flight.
A moment later, they exited the cave and started ascending the vertical corridor of the Cracked Dome.
11
With her head upside down, Jade spent the whole flight racking her brain for a possible solution to her unexpected dilemma.
Escaping wouldn’t solve her predicament. She needed to free herself and find a way to kill this mountain of a man, bare-handed. She couldn’t return to the Academy otherwise, and there was no place in the entire Fifth Moon System where she could hide in case she failed to eliminate her target. She would have to reach the Outer Belts—
“Why didn’t you try to take out Carellian?” the High Lord abruptly asked. “Even without your weapons, I’m sure you can still do some serious damage.”
They had been navigating the thermals for some time, and he had kept silent. His huge, very much naked body touched hers as she strained to shy away from contact, but his large hand inevitably pressed her back against him.
After a few seconds of internal debate, she decided to answer with the truth. “I don’t hurt animals.”
It was evident the draglet was loyal to the High Lord, and if she tried to fight him to gain the exit while the man was healing, the animal would have taken it upon himself to protect the position at all costs. Even if Jade had been victorious, which she doubted, she would have wounded the draglet, and she abhorred the idea.
The man’s large hands grabbed her, and without warning, she found herself sitting on his lap, her tied legs to the side, staring into eyes the color of the sky.
“You only kill men.” His breath was warm against her mouth.
Jade forced her lungs to breathe. “And women. I’m not sexist.”
“It’s good to know you draw the line at animals.”
“And at children.”
“So, what’s the bounty for a High Lord nowadays?” His voice was flippant, and there was an amused light dancing in his eyes, but his body was still and tight, like a coil ready to spring.
“I wouldn’t know.” She wouldn’t lower her gaze and show the High Lord how he unsettled her, but those ultramarine eyes shone like jewels and she had never seen such a beautiful shade.
His mouth curved into a cold smile. “That’s right. I forgot. Being an assassin is a higher vocation. Your lot doesn’t do it for money but for the glory of the Academy.”
She didn’t refuse his high-handed statement, but added, “I wouldn’t know that either.”
“Were you sold to the mercenaries?”
When she didn’t answer, his finger tipped her chin up, and she realized she had lowered her eyes.
“Were you one of those kids?” His voice was softer now, and those clear pools of light were looking at her with pity, and she couldn’t have that.
“And if I was, what do you care?” The words were out of her mouth before she thought better of it.
What was wrong with her? She was a Master Assassin, a highly-trained mercenary hired to do a simple job. Not only had she botched her mission, she was now chatting with a man she should have killed several hours ago.
On top of that, she couldn’t remember the last time she had a conversation with another human being. And that thought upset her more than sitting in his naked lap. Even more than being defenseless. Jade’s throat closed as she tried to swallow a big lump. Her eyes went to the white marks etched on her skin.
One large finger softly caressed the back of her hand, making her shiver.
Raising her gaze to his face, she said, “Don’t touch me.”
His hand rose but landed on her waist a moment later. “Turbulent winds ahead of us.”
As he said it, a fast draft engulfed Carellian’s wings, throwing them sideways. Only the High Lord’s hand protectively pressing her against his taut torso saved Jade from being hurled into the void below. For several minutes, draglet and rider fought the worsening weather.
Soon, a cold, crystal-blue rain pelted them, and the warmth of the man’s body proved to be useful to stave off the chill seeping through her bones.
Amid the natural upheaval, she couldn’t help but notice the rider’s flying skills. She, who had trained under the most expert aviators, could have never tamed a squall with the same ease the man did. And the High Lord was commanding his draglet one-handed, because, even in the middle of the storm, he never removed his hand from her waist. Instead, his fingers traced circles against her skin where her midriff was exposed.
His actions confused her. She was his prisoner, and yet the man showed her mercy.
When he woke the first time and shifted back into his human form in a state of evident arousal, he could have used her. It didn’t matter that he still thought she was a man then, and he didn’t hurt her when he found her boot lodged against his manhood. She wouldn’t have been as magnanimous in his place.
Plans change. Assassins adapt, she reminded herself. I must kill this man.
12
Drenched, tired, and hungry, Dragon finally saw the tail end of his convoy.
As expected, Valerian was flying ahead of the storm. His lieutenant would have never put his precious cargo in any danger. He must have been looking for any sign of Dragon, though, because as soon as Carellian flew under the wind, Valerian turned.
Dragon flattened his hand against his prisoner’s stomach. During the storm, he had inched his fingers under the leather vest and splayed them against her skin. She had stiffened at first, but when the squalls slapped them every which way, her stance softened until she leaned against him. He encircled her waist and anchored her slender body to his.
He left the reins for a moment to raise his hand. Valerian reciprocated the greeting and steered Contessa, his volatile draglet, toward Carellian.
“Easy, boy,” Dragon warned his steed, who huffed in annoyance.
C
arellian couldn’t help himself when he was in the presence of the she-draglet, always trying to impress the female with daring aerobatics. Contessa, on the other hand, never seemed to appreciate her suitor’s efforts.
“And you, too, behave.” Dragon pressed his hand over the woman’s skin in warning.
With a few powerful thrusts of Contessa’s long wings, Valerian gained speed and was at Dragon’s side in moments. Well before Contessa stopped abreast of Carellian, his lieutenant gave Dragon and the woman in his lap a good look. The dark expression etched on his face soon transformed from worry to relief, and finally to surprise.
“Is it ‘falling women’ season, High Lord?” Valerian didn’t remove his eyes from the assassin.
“It would seem so.” Dragon placed his free hand on the mercenary’s shoulder.
Valerian studied the gesture with his black eyes. “Did you enjoy your meditation?”
“That’s what you said to the princesses?” Dragon pointed his chin at the royal palanquin flanked by his personal guards.
There seemed to be a commotion all around the luxurious winged wagon, and his men appeared harassed as they kept looking over their shoulders at him.
Valerian nodded. “Their Royal Graces went into a feat of panic when you disappeared earlier in the day and demanded we go back to King’s Ridge.”
“Thank you for keeping a lid on things. My betrotheds scare easily,” Dragon said.
That was a euphemism if there ever was one.
The truth was that Lauren and Gilda, the princesses he was about to marry in less than a fortnight, were two young women raised in a golden cage and knew nothing of the outside world. Since Dragon, and a team of the brightest and deadliest guards of the Solarian Army, had traveled to King’s Ridge to escort the wedding party to Sol Palace, he and Valerian did nothing else but reassure the princesses.
Their sometimes-annoying attitude was to be expected though, given their upbringing. Called princesses as a courtesy title, Lauren and Gilda had been genetically engineered especially for him. As any other shifter in the Fifth Moon System, Dragon couldn’t procreate and needed the help of a group of elite scientists to propagate his race. Fortunately, a dragon shifter physiology was different from werewolves’, and his wives wouldn’t suffer damage from giving birth to dragon pups as Lupine’s blessed brides did. He would never go through the pain his friend Valentine experienced when Mirella was pregnant with their first child, and for that, Dragon was extremely grateful and would be patient with his young brides.
“I’m glad to see you enjoyed your ride.” Valerian’s eyes pointedly studied the mercenary.
“It was quite an adventure.” Dragon appreciated that his friend wouldn’t say a word more than necessary, but still found a way to reassure Dragon with his roundabout statements.
“I can only imagine,” Valerian said. “The princesses called a picnic. I’ll find an accommodation at the back of the convoy for your guest.”
The assassin trembled.
“I have other plans,” Dragon said. “Inform my betrotheds we won’t stop. We’re flying straight to the palace.”
Valerian’s eyebrows arched, and he stared at Dragon for a moment before tilting his chin toward the rest of the convoy that was now waiting, hovering several meters ahead of them. “As you wish.”
Reaching out, Dragon grabbed his friend’s elbow. “Come back right away.”
“Aye.” Valerian regaled him with a sardonic smile as his gaze traveled from Dragon to the stranger riding with him. He gave Contessa a pat between her shoulder, and his draglet elegantly floated away.
“What are you going to do with me?” his prisoner asked when they were alone.
“That’s an excellent question,” Dragon answered, feeling taken aback by his own decision.
Dragon’s brain told him to follow procedure and release the mercenary to the authorities, but he had been successfully ignoring it since that first time in the cave when he touched the assassin. And he had thought she was a man then. Still, his body and his dragon had reacted to her like oil on fire, creating an explosive mixture that was wreaking havoc on his senses and convinced him it was a good idea to challenge the rules.
He watched as his lieutenant approached the wedding party and stopped at the royal palanquin. Purple and gold draperies billowed in the wind as Valerian leaned closer and conveyed his message to Lauren and Gilda. That would likely go as well as a flash flood on Lupine. From his safe distance, he heard the arguing voices rising into the sky.
Valerian came back a moment later, a suffering expression on his face. “That went fine,” he said before shaking his head.
“Thank you, my friend.” Dragon would talk to his betrotheds later, when his own thoughts made sense to him, because now he sure didn’t know what he was doing, hiding the assassin from the authorities.
His expression neutral, he smiled at Valerian, keeping his hand pressed against the woman’s skin. “You’ll fly ahead with her, taking the canyons’ route. At the palace, enter my quarters from the balcony, and wait for me there.”
Valerian, who had kept his emotions in check until now, waved his hand in surprise. “Dragon—”
“I have my reasons,” he said, although couldn’t be sure of anything any longer. “Don’t let her escape.” And even though Valerian was his best man, Dragon felt compelled to add, “Be aware that she wore a white leather cloak with an embroidered letter A on her back.”
Valerian’s eyes widened and his face paled. “You brought back an assassin?” he hissed under his breath. “Why isn’t this woman dead already?”
And for the second time that day, Dragon didn’t have a satisfactory answer to a perfectly reasonable question.
13
The High Lord’s second-in-command grabbed Jade by her arm and shoved her onto his draglet’s back. Once again, she was on her stomach, with her legs and upper torso dangling on either side of a winged animal. At least this time, her escort was clothed.
“Stay still,” he commanded when she tried to adjust her position and raise her head. The man’s hand pressed her down roughly.
Somehow, his harsh treatment put her more at ease than the High Lord’s earlier handling of her. She understood the unspoken code between enemies. The guard was right in his caution. Jade was already working on finding a way out of her predicament, and she would definitely try to kill him as soon as she got a chance.
“Don’t even think about it.” He rolled a strip of thick cloth tight across her face, covering her eyes.
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” the High Lord said, and somehow, it sounded as if he was talking to Jade and not to his lieutenant.
“Aye, my lord.” Her new captor’s voice vibrated in the air, carrying a note of frustration he didn’t bother to hide.
Jade’s new ride flapped her wings twice before the wind howled all around her as the draglet doubled her speed in a matter of seconds.
Above the gale and the animal’s loud breathing, Jade heard the man say, “I don’t know what you did to Dragon to addle his senses, but I sure intend to find out.”
The rest of the long flight was made more uncomfortable by the draglet’s jerky navigation of the thermals as if the animal, agreeing with the rider, wanted to give Jade hell. When they finally landed, Jade was nauseous. Fortunately, she seldom ate the day before a mission, so she didn’t throw up.
The guard grabbed her leg and jerked her down. With her eyes blindfolded, and her hands and ankles tied, she couldn’t control her movements and her boots hit the hard surface too fast. The man’s strong hand pulled her up and kept her upright when her right ankle gave way. He dragged her for a few meters before he paused and she heard the whoosh of a door opening.
Warm, dry air hit her exposed skin as the man shoved her forward. Silence followed the sound of a panel sliding on its hinges. The guard thrust her a few feet to her right. His hand left her back but was at her face soon afterward. The blindfold came down, and Jade blinked, t
hen took in her surroundings, slowly pivoting on her heels as the man stared at her from under long lashes.
In front of her, a large bedroom contained a humongous bed with a carved headboard, a desk, and a settee placed before a majestic fireplace that could contain a tall person standing up. Behind her, a thick panel of glass encompassed the entire wall; a section of the transparent surface opened onto the terrace where the draglet waited, perched at the edge, her tail dangling into the abyss below. The animal saw Jade looking at her and exhaled white clouds from her nostrils.
From her previous reconnaissance, Jade knew the geography of the place, and the chances of escaping from that room weren’t high. There were only two ways out. One led directly to a straight fall of several kilometers. The other opened into the High Lord’s quarters and the rest of his palace.
Nestled atop the highest ridge in the Emerald Valley, the mansion resembled a fortress from old Terran tales with its tiered towers, multiple eaves, and blue clay roofs. Miniature dragons guarded each of the four corners of the curved-up edges of the rooftops. Beautiful as it was, there was no escaping Sol Palace. After studying the building’s internal and external structure, Jade had concluded that her best option was to attack the High Lord when he was outside of his fortress. The man was known for taking long flights by himself, leaving his personal guards behind more times than not.
“Give me just one reason to run you through with my scimitar.” The guard reached over his shoulder and grabbed the pommel protruding to the side, unsheathing a long, curved sword he brandished in front of her.
Years of tactical training had taught Jade when it was the right moment to fight, and when it made sense to cease every attempt and rest to see another day. An assassin’s life was dangerous enough without adding pointless bravado to it.
The Fifth Moon’s Dragon Page 3