Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Chapter 32

  Morrigan lounged across the arms of her chair as she let her bare foot dangle over the side. Ualan had been gone for the last day with his brothers, plotting vengeance. She knew he felt bad about what happened, but she didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t really tried to touch her since she’d sneaked off to the bathroom to cry, but Morrigan hoped he was just giving her time to recover. It was sweet of him to give her space, but she wished he wouldn’t bother. Biting her nails in a way that really irritated her mother-by-marriage, she said, “I need a job.”

  “You have a job,” the queen said calmly.

  Morrigan reached down and picked her coffee up from the floor to take a sip. Ualan had looked at her strangely when she thanked him for the simulator by sprinkling kisses all over his face and proclaiming him the best husband in the world. He had pulled away, mumbling something about needing to meet with Zoran.

  Morrigan shook her head as she set the cup down. “Being a wife is not a real job.”

  “The others might disagree with you.” Queen Mede laughed.

  “Don’t get me wrong, it is work, but it’s not a job. I need something to do. I can’t just sit around here all day waiting for Ualan to get back from whatever he does. I need more than that.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Well, I am a reporter.”

  “We have no need for a reporter.” The queen absently looked at her own fingernails. “All news spreads by word of mouth or royal decree.”

  Morrigan frowned. She was restless. Ualan got to leave all day to do princely things. What was she supposed to do? Lie around and get fat? Not likely.

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you,” the queen said, before scowling and motioning that Morrigan should take her finger away from her teeth.

  Morrigan sheepishly obeyed, grinning like a disobedient child.

  “Have you talked to Ualan about this?” the queen asked.

  “No,” she muttered. “He seems to get all weird when I mention being a reporter. It’s like he thinks I’ve suddenly contracted leprosy.”

  “What’s that?” the queen asked, unfamiliar with the term.

  “A disease we eliminated on Old Earth long ago. It’s not important.” Morrigan leaned forward, steepling her hands beneath her chin in thought.

  “Could it be he looks at you like that because you hide things from him?”

  “How are Nadja and Olena?” Morrigan asked suddenly. “Ualan said something about them having a scare?”

  “They’re fine,” the queen answered. For emphasis, she repeated, “Could it be he looks at you like that because you hide things from him?”

  “Hide things like what?” Morrigan asked, seeing Queen Mede was getting to some sort of a point.

  “Or maybe he’s scared?”

  “Scared? Ualan?” Morrigan laughed. No, that wasn’t likely.

  “Morrigan, when you say you notice a change in Ualan when you speak of it, do you mean you see it on his face? Or do you mean you feel it within you as if the emotions were your own?” Queen Mede leaned forward, copying her daughter’s pose.

  “I feel it,” she answered, after consideration.

  “That is because you can feel what he is feeling. And he feels what you are feeling. If you are discontent or wistful when speaking of travel and reporting, he will feel your longing. He might even think you long to leave him.” Queen Mede smiled sadly as realization dawned on Morrigan’s face.

  “But, how is it possible?”

  “Qurilixian children are given a crystal when they are born. It is their guiding light. When you were paired by the crystal, your lives became joined in a way that can never be taken back. You exchanged part of your souls. By crushing the crystal, you assured the exchange would never be reversed. In a way, you are now his guiding light.”

  Morrigan stiffened.

  “Do you understand what that means for him?” the queen persisted.

  Morrigan shook her head in denial.

  “It means his crystal is broken. It means he put his every chance at happiness in you. He gave his life to you, Rigan. There will never be anyone else for him as long as he lives. That is a long time for our people, and for you. By giving you his life, he shortened his and extended yours so your fates could remain entwined. If you chose to leave him, he would be alone for the rest of his days. Without the aid of our blue sun, your life would play out like normal, maybe extended a few more years than usual. When he took you to his tent, it was his choice. When you stayed, that was yours. You’re it for him, Rigan. There will be no other in his bed or his heart. There simply can’t be.”

  “You mean he was a…” Morrigan blushed, realizing she was talking to his mother.

  The queen merely laughed, not shying away from the revealing question. “I doubt it. The princes have occasionally left our planet for ambassadorial duties. And, distasteful as it sounds, there are several roving bands of women with loose morals who make scheduled stops for the warriors. They are men after all.”

  Morrigan blushed.

  “Don’t think about it. It was before he met you. Once mated, they do not go back to such things—ever. Besides, I’m told there is something to be said for a husband with training.” The queen smiled and winked to show she was teasing. Morrigan chuckled. The queen continued, “He won’t go to them now. He couldn’t if he wanted to. You would know right away. Besides, if he wanted to, you would know that too. He doesn’t desire anyone else, rest assured.”

  “And you’ve never regretted choosing one man?”

  “Never, though around the one-hundredth year, they do start getting very inventive. It is something to look forward to.” The queen stood. “Now that I have set you straight, I have other daughters to visit. I swear, when you have sons, Morrigan, be prepared. They will bring you a handful of problems. But, then again, occasionally they’ll bring you flowers, and it will be well worth the frustration.”

  “Just like their fathers,” Morrigan mused, liking the idea of having Ualan’s son very much. She wondered if he ever thought about children.

  “Yes,” the queen agreed. She kissed Morrigan’s cheek. “Just like their fathers.”

  * * *

  The news came that night that the men were off to battle with King Attor and his cat-shifter warriors. Agro had discovered from the spy that King Attor did indeed plan on killing three of the four princesses. Olena, he wanted for himself, thus the attack on Yusef. Agro also learned Attor’s whereabouts and the Draig trackers soon had the position confirmed. It was a small encampment of Var on the southern borders of Draig land.

  Morrigan was worried sick, but she had faith Ualan would come out the victor. Besides, after what the queen told her, she was confident she would feel it if Ualan was hurt.

  The doctor came to check on her, reporting that all was well and she was nearly healed. She stayed up late, waiting until she could no longer keep her eyes open. No news came and she spent the night alone.

  * * *

  “Here.”

  Morrigan glanced up from the couch in surprise. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore a simple linen shirt and relaxed cotton pants.

  Ualan’s voice was stern as he handed over her eye camera. He looked exhausted and worn from the battle. “This belongs to you.”

  “I didn’t hear you come in.” She set the book she held aside. At her request, Queen Mede had agreed to provide books on Qurilixian customs. To Morrigan’s delight, her new mother sent cartloads of information—history, law, art, trade publications, myths and legends. Nadja had loaned her a specialized translator so she could read them. It was slow going, but she was doing research and loved it. Besides, it helped the hours pass until Ualan came home.

  The books were piled around her in a big mess, but Morrigan didn’t care. She jumped up, stumbling over them as she ran forward to greet the tired warrior. She threw her arms around him. “I knew you were fine, but I missed you.”

  Looking
over her shoulder, he only half returned her embrace, holding himself back. Ualan took her hand and, lifting it, he set the eyepiece and emerald trigger in her palm. Slowly, he stepped back.

  Morrigan blinked, confused by the gesture. She eyed him as she set it on a pile of books. “Thanks.”

  Ualan nodded.

  “What happened? They didn’t send word. Did you…?”

  “King Attor is dead. We tried to arrest him according to our treaty and he called his troops to battle. Attor’s son will take the throne. Olek is speaking to the new Var king, negotiating a peace. It looks like our battles have ended, hopefully.”

  “That is good news, Ualan,” Morrigan said. “I’m glad if there will be no more battles between you and the Var. The road to peace is surely a slow one, but I believe it can be achieved, if you do.”

  “Some of the older nobles will protest on both sides. However, in the end, they will bow to the decision of their leaders.” Ualan eyed the piles of books.

  Morrigan tried to sense his feelings like Queen Mede told her to, instead of relying on his minimal facial expressions. She sensed it had taken him a long time after arriving at the palace to get the will to come to her. That fact made her sad. He shouldn’t be hesitant to come home. He held his emotions back so she tried harder.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  Morrigan bit the inside of her lips nervously. “What do you mean?”

  He gestured at the books.

  “Oh, the books. Just some research on local culture.”

  “Hmm.” He handed her something else. “This is for you, too.”

  Morrigan took the slip of paper he offered. It was a space ticket with passage from an Earthbase that would take her home. Confused by the gesture, she glanced up at him, and asked carefully, “What’s this?”

  “It’s a ticket. In your name. One way to New Earth. You’ll have to make a few stops. Our transports don’t usually travel too far away from our airspace but my cousin, Lord Mirek, said they can drop you off at that Earthbase. You’ll have to travel to the launch pad in the mountains, but it’s only a day’s ride by ceffyl.”

  “I can see that it is a ticket. But, what are you saying, Ualan? You want me to go? You’re sending me away?”

  “I know you’re here to do a story, Rigan. Your communication with your editor was intercepted. I heard everything. You wish to tell of our lives, of our war with the Var, our marriages.” Ualan sighed, and she felt that he was too weary to keep fighting her. “Well, there’s your camera. You should have all the information you need to expose us.”

  “Expose you? Why would I want to expose you?”

  “You said you wanted to take your film and expose me.” His tone held more question than certainty.

  “When?” She’s sure she would have remembered making such a stupid comment. She never intended to hurt anyone with what she wrote. Well, maybe Galaxy Brides Corporation—but she had been mad at the time. She doubted anything would ever come of it.

  “When you were sick from poison.” He sat on the couch across from where she had been when he walked in.

  Morrigan blushed, suddenly remembering what was on the camera. The image of Ualan’s naked ass came to mind and she blushed in embarrassment. Unable to meet his eyes, she admitted, “Expose does mean reveal, but it is also an old newspaper industry term that means to create a picture from its original storage source.”

  Morrigan covered her face with her hands and she groaned.

  “What picture?”

  “I was going to keep your picture as something to remember you by,” she mumbled weakly, peeking at him through her fingers. “I can’t believe I told you that.”

  At that Ualan gave a small smile.

  She picked up the ticket and tapped it against her fingers.

  “What are you going to write about?”

  “I was sent undercover to gather information about the brides and your planet. I was supposed to do an article on the four princes at the Breeding Festival and the lucky women who they took as their wives. It would have been a front page exclusive. Humanoid women eat that romance stuff up. And, if I included pictures of sexy warrior men in loincloths?” Morrigan fanned her face with the ticket. “Whew! Then I have myself another sales award.”

  “Lucky?” he interjected.

  She narrowed her eyes at him and his gaze glowed golden in response. She shivered. He won. She looked away first.

  “And now? What will you write?”

  “I could expose you as shape-shifters I guess,” she said. “No one knows about you.”

  “It would hurt us. We need brides and not many women would come to marry a dragon. We would have to go back to kidnapping, which is frowned upon. It could start a war with humanoid planets.” His features were blank, but she could feel the ache inside him.

  “The story would make my career,” she said softly. “I would be able to get any assignment I wanted at any price.”

  “If your life back home is so important to you, then go. You have all the evidence you need for a story.” Ualan stood. Sighing heavily, he said, “Go home, Morrigan. I will not stand in your way.”

  “I never said I was going,” she answered.

  “You never said you were staying.”

  “What of us? Our marriage?” She knew all too well what he was willing to give up to see her happy. He was willing to sacrifice a lifetime of his own happiness and companionship to give her what he thought she wanted. No one else would ever sacrifice that much for her.

  “You came here for me, not a story. The gods brought you to me and the crystal helped me to find you. And so it is I who will let you go. I will not be the cause of your unhappiness.”

  She knew it was true. The story had always been an excuse. Part of her wanted to get away from her life. Part of her wanted to be protected and happy. She was tired of traveling, but had been unwilling to admit it before now. The dreams that were buried the deepest were the hardest to get rid of. She had held tight to her childhood fantasy of space exploration. The reality was nothing like the fantasy. Adventures were few and far between. The endless days spent alone in a space pod, traveling to a dank slime pit on the outer regions—that was the reality.

  “I should call my editor,” she whispered softly.

  Ualan nodded, sad. He waved to his bedroom. “The communicator is up there. I thought you might wish to contact him with your flight information, and I have left orders that your communication not be monitored.”

  Morrigan stood, walking slowly to the stairs. The communicator and weapons were put back on the shelf. Next to them, she saw her crown. It looked different than she had first remembered it. The queen had told her in the hospital that it had been broken when she fell ill. Picking it up, she realized it glistened with the shards of Ualan’s broken crystal. He must have had it inlaid when he ordered it repaired. It was beautiful.

  Setting the crown down, she picked up the communicator and turned it on. The floating screen popped up and, with a click-click, she dialed Gus.

  She didn’t have to wait long before she heard the man bellow, “About damned time, Rigan. Where the hell have you been?”

  “Hi-yah, Gus,” she forced her tone to sound light.

  “Hi-yah? Hi-yah, Gus?” he demanded before calming himself. “I’m opening the lines, Rigan, send your story. It goes to press tomorrow. I’ve been holding the front page of the intergalactic edition for you.”

  “I can’t do that, Gus. I don’t have it.”

  “What? You still writing? Hmm,” he pondered, “well I guess you’re calling for your annulment papers. I tell you what. You send me a story and I’ll give you everything you need to get out of that marriage—first class ticket and all. How does that sound, Rigan?”

  “Sorry, Gus. There is no story here. I was wrong. Oh, and I quit.”

  “What?” the man screeched. “You can’t quit on me, Rigan. You’re the best damned reporter I have. No one could cover that slime planet like
you did.”

  “That’s because I’m the only reporter you have that would go to the slime pits,” she corrected.

  “Is that what this is about? Fine. Your next assignment will be about spa treatments. Come on, you can’t leave this business. It’s in your blood. You’ll go crazy without it.”

  “I found a prince, Gus,” she said, a soft smile on her lips. “And I think I am going to keep him.”

  Morrigan glanced up to see Ualan standing in the doorway of the closet. An affectionate smile formed on his lips. Emotion flowed sweetly and openly between them, the one last obstacle having been torn down by her words.

  “Rigan?” Ualan whispered, hope shining brightly in his handsome eyes.

  “It would make my career, Ualan,” she whispered back. “But you make my life.”

  “Rigan!” Gus screeched. “I can’t hear you, what did you say? Oh, never mind, you’re talking crazy anyway. Listen, I’ll let you out of your contract no problem, but you’ve got to give me an exclusive.”

  “Gus, my contract expired years ago,” she said.

  “Rigan, girl,” he insisted.

  “Sorry, Gus.” She stared boldly at Ualan. “Take care of my apartment would you? Sell everything, but mail me my maid units—all of them.”

  “I got it,” Gus said, not listening, “Star reporter falls for story.”

  Morrigan smiled, not really paying attention to the blustering man. Her eyes shone with love for her husband.

  “No, wait,” Gus broke in, clearly growing excited, “Princess reporter finds her prince.”

  “No,” she said, her gaze traveling over Ualan’s firm body. He lifted a brow, moving to take off his shirt at the come-hither tilt of her head.

  “Rigan, come on girl, you have to give me something.” Gus’ words were followed by the sound of a slamming fist.