Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “Listen.” Morrigan tried to keep the condescending slant out of her tone, but it was hard. “I know you must be disappointed to have your little plans here spoiled.” She waved her hand over the erotically charged tent as she spoke. “But, no means no. So, better luck next time. There are plenty of other women out there who weren’t chosen by your fellow warriors. They would be most willing to come in here with you. I just don’t happen to be one of them. All of the other brides are eager to get bound—”

  Ualan took a threatening step forward. Morrigan flinched as the move cut off her words.

  “Back off, caveman,” she warned, going rigid and giving him her most withering glare. The look didn’t have the desired effect, as it solicited an arrogant smirk. Even so, it wasn’t amusement she saw in those deep blue eyes of liquid fire. He was livid.

  What was she doing in this tent? Damn her constant curiosity to see just a little more. She should have stayed at the dining table with the other women. They were probably all back on the ship right now. What she needed to do was get some pictures, record some short useable clips and then crawl back to her assigned ship’s quarters for the trip home.

  “Now, let’s just calm down a little, okay sparky,” Morrigan said, forcing her shoulders to relax. She eyed him warily, wondering if his grasp of the Old Star language was bad. That could explain the confusion. Slowly, she began to enunciate her words. “I do not wish to get married.”

  He frowned.

  “Now you,” she said as she pointed at him with her hand before walking her fingers in the air, “walk out there and find another woman from the ship. Grab her.” She shook her fist. “And lead her back to your bed.” By the time she had finished illustrating her words, she was gesturing at the bed.

  He didn’t move.

  “Do you understand?” she continued slowly, perhaps a bit too slowly in her ire.

  His frown deepened.

  “Great,” she muttered to herself. “Of all the warriors out there, I have to get the savage who can’t speak the universal language.” Eyeing him, she stated louder, “It’s called research, barbarian. You know, studying up before you take on a new task so you know what you are getting yourself into?” She paused. “Nothing?”

  His frown turned into a full-blown scowl.

  “I can’t talk to you, caveman. I’m sorry you don’t understand. I’m leaving.”

  Spinning on her heels, she almost made it to the tent opening. Almost.

  Ualan darted forward with the speed of a crashing comet. Taking her firmly by the shoulder, he stepped around her and blocked the exit. His eyes burned as he stared her down. It was either try to bravely mow him over or slowly retreat like a coward. Morrigan grimaced warily. She was definitely a coward.

  * * *

  Prince Ualan watched the woman before him. His whole body was tense with frustration. This is not how the elders foretold of the bridal night. He wanted to argue with her, but honor forbid it. He could only say as few words as possible when interacting with her. It was tradition. Maybe he wasn’t as blessed by the gods as he had been wont to think. This wench was proving to be the most aggravating of brides.

  Why wasn’t she smiling at him?

  He reached for her and again the timid creature nearly jumped out of her skin as if he might hurt her. Why would he hurt her? He wanted to marry her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, worshiping her, loving her, protecting her.

  Ualan forced himself to calm down. Perhaps she was nervous. Her wide gaze kept looking over his body in a half-fascinated, half-wary sort of way. He knew she desired him. The crystal proved as much. Besides, even without the crystal, he smelled the effects of her desire. It teased his enhanced dragon-shifter senses.

  The tents were rumored to intimidate some human women who had delicate sensibilities and were unused to a man’s attentions. Perhaps that was the reason she acted the way she did. Bluntly, he asked, “Have you been with a man?”

  Morrigan gasped. She looked at him in a way that seemed both innocent and disarming. Her mouth worked, as she stuttered, “I-I…”

  He tilted his head, waiting.

  “That is none of your business!”

  “Answer,” he urged patiently, heartened by her reaction because he thought to have his reason for her behavior. Being a male dominated race, his people were not so shy when it came to discussing sex. He had been warned that offworld women were different. When he instructed her to her new role, she would not be so shy—not that his vanity minded the way she blushed when he caught her looking at him like a starving mirascat.

  “Answer,” she mocked, with a snarl. “Me Ualan, you woman—uh, uh.”

  He let loose a long breath. His stiff mouth saying he was unamused by her humor. This woman was going to be a challenge. What had the gods blessed him with?

  * * *

  Have you ever been with a man?

  He barely said anything to her, and suddenly that was what he wanted to talk about? Morrigan tried to nervously laugh it off, but then an idea struck her. Her lids dropped over her eyes as she looked at the ground and lied, “Yes, yes I have.”

  Ualan had come forward before she knew what he was doing. Morrigan blinked in surprise as he stopped directly in front of her. All right, maybe that had been the wrong thing to say. It didn’t appear like he’d been dissuaded from his task—so much for the theory that the Qurilixian preferred virgins.

  He leaned over her. His hand caught her arm in its callused grasp. Whispering against her throat, he said, “Then you have no reason to deny me. Choose.”

  Morrigan shivered at his nearness. Seeing his lips so close, feeling his breath against her skin, she was tempted to give up the battle. The warmth of his body radiated over her. Naked flesh was so close. All she had to do was lift her hand. Why was she fighting him so hard? It wasn’t as if she had a lot of male suitors back home vying for mattress time. It wasn’t like she really had a home, or friends who didn’t double as her boss giving her orders. All she had was work. As much as she loved her job, words on a screen could make for cold companionship.

  She hesitated before answering and was about to allow him to kiss her when she saw his arrogant smirk. He thought she was some simple alien woman he could seduce with a nice smile and come-hither eyes. She’d met his type before. So much for giving in. Like she would let some primitive barbarian get the best of her. Oh, the battle was on. Now it was a matter of principle.

  Morrigan didn’t care who this caveman thought he was. He could be the King of the Seven Galaxies for all she cared. You just didn’t treat women like a piece of steak to be pushed around and chewed on at will.

  “You don’t understand,” Morrigan said. “I’ve been with several men. In fact, that is what my job is back on New Earth. I’m a prostitute.”

  Take that, Ualan, Morrigan thought, hard-pressed not to laugh when her words sunk in. The mean ole barbarian didn’t like that one, did he?

  “So, you see, you don’t want me.” Morrigan’s pulse raced. She was scared of him, but also intrigued by the assurance of his stance. She tried to pull away. He didn’t let go of her arm.

  Her will weakened against the teasing promise of his lips as he moved closer. His piercing blue eyes studied her. The virile scent of his exotically oiled body did little to calm her racing heart and heating skin. Her words not as confident as before, she continued, “Why don’t you just wait another year for a virgin if you don’t like the other women here tonight? Surely you’ll have first choice since you struck out this year.”

  Morrigan needed to get out of the tent and work, but her eyes begged her to stay for just a moment longer so they could look at him. In light of his touch, work didn’t seem so important. Her body wanted to stay and her mind…well, her mind was undecided. Since work was her life, Morrigan was puzzled by the revelation. Maybe it was the wine. That had to be it. She was just a little drunk.

  “The crystal does not lie,” he stated, the confident words gruff. “Th
e gods have spoken.”

  “What…?” Morrigan glanced around his neck at the glowing pulse of the crystal. Instantly, she felt its power over her—tempting, inviting, demanding—just like its wearer. Her blood sang with the powers of the Qurilixian wine. In contrast to the wine on New Earth, the Qurilixian blend did not exactly encourage sleep. “I don’t believe in your go—”

  “Silence.” His hand slid insistently over her arm, pushing down the silken strands woven around her limbs to hold them down. His thick accent rolled over her. “You question too much. You want this. Make your choice.”

  Morrigan swallowed nervously. He appeared very sure of his hold over her and her attraction to him. She opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out. Ualan abruptly pressed his lips to hers in a bold kiss. His tongue parted her lips, drawing in her bottom lip to suck gently.

  Her rebuttal turned into a moan of surprise. Ualan growled, pulling her fiercely to his chest. Every hot, oiled inch of him molded to her skin. Her desire sparked into a white heat that flowed through her bloodstream, strong and potent.

  The thin material of her dress was no match against his fire. This was insanity and Morrigan knew it. She tried to fight his touch, tried to pull back, but her brain kept begging for just one more feel, just a little longer, just let him touch you a little longer, longer…

  Breaking free of her mouth, Ualan stared brazenly at her chest. She tried to calm her breathing but her lungs heaved with deep pants. He smiled, licking his bottom lip as if he could already taste victory. With a purposeful gesture, he flicked at the strap holding her gown up. It slid off her shoulder.

  “Choose,” he commanded her.

  Morrigan looked around the tent, intrigued by the hot water, drawn to the bed, shamefully curious of the throne. She couldn’t utter the words. She couldn’t decide. She couldn’t ask for it. She was too overwhelmed. Her body sung in ways she had never known possible. Between the wine and the power of the crystal and man, she couldn’t think straight.

  “Wine,” Morrigan answered weak of breath and limb. Her hands trembled where they lay pinned against him, against the strong beating of his heart. She tried to push. It was a sorry effort. He was too strong, too tall, too overwhelming. “Please, can you go and get me a different wine?”

  His mouth opened as if to protest. Morrigan felt his fingernails clawing lightly at her back. She put her hand to his firm lips to stop him from speaking. Almost desperate, she looked up at him. She needed to clear her head.

  Lying, she promised, “Go, I bid you. Then, when you get back, we will finish this—all right?”

  Ualan glanced over her body with a low growl of barely contained passion. His stomach tensed. Slowly, he nodded and released her.

  Morrigan’s flesh jumped in instant protest. Her body ached. Her thighs and stomach quivered with denied need. Her breasts were swollen with the anticipation of his touch. She watched him stride from the tent, as he took her at her word.

  “Oh.” She exhaled a long breath, too stunned for a moment to move. “The corporation said nothing about meeting you.”

  Chapter5

  Morrigan slowly came to her senses, as she stared at the exit where Ualan had disappeared. Without the heat of his nearness, she shivered, suddenly chilled to the bone. Now that she was alone she could reason. The man’s very presence had a drugging effect on her senses. He was potent, raw sexual energy, a completely irritatingly dominating barbarian who didn’t seem to be told “no” all that often.

  He was a strange man to be sure, acting on tradition and primal instinct. But what had she expected? He was a Qurilixian, not a New Earthling. He grew up around men, probably used to spouting orders and having those orders followed. Although they were almost the same genetically, their customs were completely different.

  Well, Morrigan thought, with a wry twist of her mouth. Not completely different. Had it been the Middle Ages on Old Earth, we would understand each other fairly well.

  Then again, with a body like that, why would visiting offworld women turn him down?

  I’m not just any woman, Morrigan told herself. I am a professional.

  When she was sure Ualan was away from the tent, she poked her head out of the flap. Seeing no one outside, Morrigan sneaked out into the night. She dipped behind the blue-gray tent and then raced to hide behind a nearby black one, before stopping to get her bearings.

  Morrigan imagined a medieval Old Earthling would have spoken more, especially while trying to seduce someone. However, there was something dangerous and alluring about Ualan’s silent perusal. It was almost animalistic, the way he looked at her. As if he was unashamed of his desires and expected her to be unashamed of hers. What he didn’t say with words, she could read in his eyes and feel on her skin when he touched her, as if he put the thoughts into her flesh with his very will.

  Morrigan frowned, vowing that, as soon as she got home, she was going to purchase the biggest blasted sex droid her savings could buy. Robo-boyfriend would put this barbarian to shame—she’d make sure of it.

  “Do not fight it,” she heard a man say from within the black tent. “I can feel that you want me. You chose me.”

  A woman’s throaty moan followed the confident decree. Morrigan shivered, half-tempted to go back to Ualan’s tent and see what else his firm body had to offer her. It wasn’t like she had to get married to him or anything if they just had sex. And, who would know? Not her editor. Not anyone who mattered.

  “Focus, girl,” she whispered to herself. “He’s the big lug who thinks dragging a woman off into the sunset by her hair is romantic.”

  Morrigan heard moan again, this time louder. A shiver worked over her body. She wasn’t sure what she was planning to find out sneaking around outside. She had really thought there would be more talking and ceremony before everyone got to know each other so intimately. If this was dating, she really had been off the market a little too long.

  Crossing quickly over to a green tent, Morrigan stopped near the opening. Seeing a narrow crack where the flap hung open, she couldn’t help but peek inside.

  “Choose,” a man said.

  Morrigan leaned closer, trying to see who he was with. What was with all this choosing? Did the Qurilixian Old Star language teacher have a serious vocabulary problem? It felt as if Galaxy Brides had purposefully misled them with talk of princes and royalty and instead sold them to a pack of wild barbarians—handsome, virile barbarians, but strange ones nonetheless.

  “I-I can’t choose, Olek,” she heard Nadja answer. “Not yet.”

  Morrigan saw a flash of skin as the woman moved past the opening. Soon, the man was behind her, his naked buttock flexing as he walked.

  A dangerous jolt came over Morrigan. She knew she should turn away. But these men were just too delicious for the eyes. It wasn’t like she was a peeping-pervert. She was an investigative reporter. It was her job to observe the locals. Licking her lips, she tried to get another peek.

  * * *

  Ualan’s hand trembled as he tried to contain himself. He clenched it tight around the goblet he’d fetched for his bride. His lips tightened into a harsh line. She wasn’t in the tent. He had suspected in the very back of his mind that she would try to leave, though he was still disappointed.

  She had most likely run back to the ship. His heart beat wildly. How could he have failed, and so soon?

  Ualan pushed his way out of the wedding tent. Gripping the goblet, he looked around the immediate area and started for the docked ship to stop her from boarding. It wouldn’t be hard to track her. Even now he picked up her scent. He didn’t have to walk far before he found Morrigan crouched next to his brother’s tent.

  He was a warrior and always up to the challenge of a good fight—although this fight made him want to growl in frustration. By all that was sacred, what had he done to the gods to deserve such aggravation? His crystal glowed. That should be all the proof she needed to make her choice. The sound of moans came from within the field of tent
s. Sexual energy rose in the air to torment him with what he should have been doing at that very moment, instead of chasing his woman around the festival grounds. At least she didn’t try to join the celebrating crowd. As a prince, he didn’t want to be seen pursuing his woman on this night. That would make his humiliation complete.

  Ualan knew his bride fought what he stirred in her, that she denied her attraction. The only thing he didn’t know was why she fought it, why she would not simply choose him. They both understood why she was here. This was their wedding night.

  He forced himself to relax. She was a mystery, one he would have to figure out. He didn’t have a choice. This is who the gods gave him.

  Truthfully, he was unnerved by her admission of many men. He would just have to watch her very carefully. It would not do to have her play him false. It was rare that it should happen in a marriage, but it had happened, or so legends warned.

  Ualan remembered how she melted into his kiss. It seemed there was a way to quiet her spirited tongue after all. She might fight him, but she was not immune to what they had.

  He smiled as she leaned over to look inside Olek’s tent. Silently, he came up behind her. Forcing his voice to be stern, he stated, “You cannot run. The crystal will always find you.”

  * * *

  You cannot run. The crystal will always find you.

  To Morrigan’s horror, the low voice came from behind her.

  She jumped up in alarm. Spinning, she saw Ualan standing, wine goblet in hand. The crystal at his neck pulsed. At the same moment heat spread between her thighs and her nipples hardened like he’d touched them. Dismayed at being caught watching the other couple, she felt the blood draining out of her face.