Suddenly, he pulled back. If they finished this mad tirade, the council would sense it on them. If he broke the law, his marriage would be disapproved and he would be forced to live the rest of his very long life alone. Not until she publicly declared she wanted him by breaking his crystal, could he claim her.
His sweet bride, too impassioned with the new feelings to stop, went forward to nuzzle his neck. His pulse jumped beneath her kisses.
“No,” he commanded. “Stop.”
She didn’t obey.
“We can’t do this,” he said, feeling like a fool as the words came out. He wanted to caress her, but he denied his hands the pleasure. Her lips slid along his jaw to his mouth. Her wide emerald eyes stared into his gray ones.
“Why not?” she persisted. “Who would ever know?”
“I would know,” he answered with pride. “The council will know.”
She shrugged, moving to kiss him again.
“Kiss me,” she demanded, her eyes alighting with the mischievous shield to block him out. “Now.”
“Say please,” he teased.
Her eyes hardened. All vulnerability was gone when she looked at him. Her smile pulled dangerously to the side. A lovely pout on her features, his bride leaned forward.
Yusef watched her, thinking she was perhaps one of the most beautiful creatures in the world. Soapsuds clung to her breasts, drawing his eyes. He would never know how he had the willpower to stop her advances. Her naked arms stretched above her head. Sometime during their play the wristbands had fallen off into the water. Yusef swallowed as her cream-colored breasts shifted with the movement of her arms.
She reached for her hair and pulled the firefly pin from her locks. With a shake, the silky waves spread over her shoulders like trails of fire. Her sultry gaze looked deep into his. His breath caught. He knew the battle was now hers. He wouldn’t be refusing her again. Leaning forward, she brushed a kiss to his lips.
“Please…?” She pulled back with a pout.
Yusef stiffened, feeling a poke in his neck. He lifted his arms to grab her. Instead, his vision blurred and his hands dropped into the water with a big splash. He couldn’t move. Even as he was passing out he managed a light curse, his dark eyes glaring hotly. As his vision faded around the treacherously lovely being standing over him, he saw her smile waver into a hard look.
She waved at him, insolently wiggling her fingers, as she said darkly, “I just don’t say please, husband.”
* * *
Olena watched Yusef’s eyes close. The firefly pin stuck in his neck where she’d jabbed the tip into him. With a push of the firefly’s wings, she’d injected a sleeping agent into his bloodstream. One so strong it could easily put an Egrat mammoth out.
“Stop?” She eyed him in disbelief. “Nobody tells me when to stop!”
Her body had been roused to such a pitch that she didn’t care about the council or this man’s sudden discovery of honor. Just a moment ago, when he was trying to nestle his erection closer to her inner thighs, where had his sense of honor and his fear of the council been? A wave of bitterness crashed inside her, caving in her heart. She was a fool.
This man was good, she’d give him that. He’d turned her own con back on her and, like a dupe, she’d fallen for it. He’d made her admit to wanting him only to deny her.
Olena pulled the pin from his neck. The wound dotted with blood but did not drip. He would be out for the rest of the night. Standing, she did not smile as she slipped the pin back into her hair.
When she finished pinning up her locks, she looked down at Yusef, staring at his naked body for a long time. He was incredible. His touch was fire, and her body sung with what he’d done to her. She would have to be careful. This barbarian had almost tricked her into forgetting herself.
Not bothering to dress, and knowing he would be out until morning, she leaned over to haul his arms over the side of the bath, making sure he wouldn’t drown. It wouldn’t do to add his murder to her long list of crimes. He was too heavy to move much further, so she just left him there.
Striding across the fur-covered ground, Olena didn’t bother to dry her wet body. She dripped a long trail as she went to the table laden with food. She grabbed the earthen jug in the middle and took a long pull off to try and calm her nerves. Emptying half the contents, she set it down with a gasp for air. Then, seeing a knife left on a tray of sliced fruit, she picked it up.
She glanced at Yusef. Crossing over to him, her face hard, her heart harder, she clutched the knife in her steady hand. As she reached the bathtub, she stopped directly above him. Her fist turned white around the blade as she studied his chest lifting with shallow breaths of sleep.
“You almost bested me,” she said softly, pointing the knife at him, ire pouring from her expression as she glared at him. Her eyes narrowed. “Never again.”
Olena turned the knife in her hand and held it steady. She took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and drew the blade through her upper arm with a stiff jerk. A whimper left her lips at the pain and she instantly dropped the blade to the ground. Blood ran crimson trails down her arm. She fell to the floor, clutching the injured appendage and refusing to cry out.
For a moment she just rocked, naked and frozen on the ground, waiting for the worst of the initial pain to pass. As the discomfort of her self-infliction started to dull, she grabbed a nearby bath linen and wound it around the cut to stop the bleeding.
Staring at her husband, she nodded at the prone man and declared, “To the Pirate’s Code, Yusef. You won’t best me again.”
Chapter 6
After cleaning up her mess of an arm and washing the knife, Olena spent the entire night dozing on the bed. Occasionally a loud, passionate cry from a nearby tent would jolt her awake. Sleep never claimed her completely as she watched Yusef’s chest rising and falling in the torchlight. The ache he stirred in her gave way after about an hour to leave a pain much worse than the one in her injured arm.
Yusef didn’t move. Olena knew he was going to be sore when he woke up from being in the same awkward position all night—not to mention livid. She couldn’t really blame him. She’d be livid too if he had done it to her.
As dawn crept into the tent, the torches had all but burnt out. Olena had memorized every line of his face and shoulders. The more she looked, the more handsome she thought him. It didn’t matter. The throbbing in her arm served to remind her that she couldn’t let him affect her.
Hearing a shuffle outside the tent flap, Olena yawned, pushing her tired body out of bed. Taking the fur coverlet, she pulled it around her shoulders and stumbled to see who was there. As she moved the flap aside, the waiting manservant seemed surprised to see a half-naked woman answering him. Blinking, he tried to see over her shoulder.
“He’s taking a bath.” Olena smiled for the man, letting a blush she didn’t feel fall over her features. The lie came a little too easily, as she continued, “He should be along in a moment.”
“Very good, my lady,” the servant said. His kind brown eyes drew down, politely refusing to stare at the married woman. He was dressed in a simple tunic and brown breeches, his hair pulled back from his face. Lifting his hands laden with garments, he said, “Your clothes, my lady. The council bid me to tell you they are ready to see you as soon as you are dressed.”
“Me?” Olena asked, surprised. How could they have known what she did? Were these shifters telepathic too? That hadn’t occurred to her.
“Yes, my lady,” the servant said. “You and his lordship.”
“Lordship?” Olena asked, looking over her shoulder.
A lord, eh? she thought.
She took the black clothing from the man the best she could in her coverlet attire. “Yes, yes, I’ll be sure to tell his…ah…lordship to hurry.”
“Very good, my lady. I will—” the servant answered. The tent flap fell in his face before he’d finished.
Olena turned, looking at her husband with renewed eyes. What exactly ha
d she stumbled into? So Yusef was a lord, was he? That meant he would have money and men with money usually had things—things like spacecrafts and jewels and other valuables that could fetch a good price on the Torgan black market.
If her crew still looked for her, as she knew they did, then they would be much happier to greet her if she were laden with gifts. It would be a nice gesture to thank them for their loyalty. Maybe she could afford to take them to Quazer for a well-deserved vacation. Maybe she could even get the slave brands removed from their backsides as well. She smiled, thinking of her now smoothed ass.
Setting the clothes on the bed, she dug through the pile with one hand. Her injured arm still pained her when she moved it. On top was a black tunic jacket, too big for her to wear. It was made from a soft cotton-like material with simple edging. A silver dragon clasp held the jacket together in the front. It paired an under tunic and tight pants, which were also severely black in color. On the jacket’s chest was the emblem of a dragon embroidered in silver.
Olena grimaced, as she came to her clothing. “Ugh, another dress.”
Her gown was of a matching shade. Before putting it on, she carefully peeled the bandage from her wound. The cut was angry and red but, for the sake of her honor, she wasn’t allowed to do anything about it for three days. Only then could she disinfect it and help it to heal. Ripping her wedding dress, she tore the black silk into strips and tied up her arm.
The tunic gown hugged tightly to her waist, dipping low at the chest in a very elegant way. Silver overlay fit at the shoulders and bodice, moving to trail over the back portion of the flared skirt. She too had the dragon on her chest, a smaller version than on Yusef’s tunic jacket. The sleeves swung wide from her elbows to the floor, leaving her forearms exposed. She was glad her cut was high enough to be hidden from view by the sleeves.
Slipping into the boots that had been delivered with them, she sighed in comfort. If she never saw a pair of slippers again, it would be too soon. Everything fit perfectly, but she took little time to wonder about it.
She combed her fingers through her hair, pinning the bulk of it into a serviceable knot at the back of her head. It was slow going with one arm injured, but she did manage to tie it back. Then, as she was placing the firefly into the top of the coiffure, she heard a low growl.
Olena froze in sudden fear. She dropped her hand to her side. That was not the sound of a man.
Spinning just in time to see a flash of brown skin, Olena gasped in fright. Yusef had awakened in a dragon-like mood. Well, dragon-like wasn’t necessarily true. He was literally a human dragon. She had suspected he was a shifter, but she wasn’t ready to see it firsthand.
Golden eyes of fire stared at her as taloned fingers gripped her arms. She cried out in pain as he pressed into her cut. His beautiful black hair was the same, but his forehead had pulled forward, bringing a low ridge down from his hairline to his nose. His breath came out in ragged draws, rumbling with a growl in the back of his throat. His flesh had turned as hard as armor and would be near impossible to pierce with a knife blade. Still, she wished she had a knife. She would have liked to try it.
“Ah,” Olena gasped as he squeezed harder.
Olena clenched her eyes shut, trying not to cry out as he hurt her, refusing to show weakness. His breath hit against her skin. His show of power excited her, even as it frightened her.
* * *
Yusef stared at his wife as if looking through a tunnel. He focused on her worried face and smelled her fear. It didn’t stop his dragon reflexes. He breathed hard, primal instinct telling him to fight. He did his best not to rip her head off for attacking him. The soft flesh of her arm barely penetrated the fog and he squeezed harder, as if in doing so, he’d find reality through his numbed nerve-endings. Her heart raced, the pounding caught up in his sensitive ears and it was difficult for him to hear past it.
Then, catching the scent of blood, he leaned forward to sniff at her neck. He followed the scent of blood, moving down her arm. Discovering that the source was beneath his hands, he let go as if stung. The tunnel began to widen and he fought for control over the beast inside him, thinking he might have gouged her with his talon. The very idea that he’d hurt her was enough to shock his system. Instantly he shifted back to his human form and took a step away from her. He looked at his hand, seeing blood smeared on his palm.
His bride inhaled deeply and opened her eyes. He expected her to scream, or run, and was unsure what he’d do if she did. Could he really blame her?
Yusef glanced at the bath he’d woken up in, and then back to stare at her arm. Frowning, he demanded hotly, “Why?”
Her composure didn’t waver in light of his outraged voice. “You drug me. I drug you. We’re even. Fair is fair.”
“What?” Yusef forced his eyes away from her before he shifted again and ripped the delicate throat from her neck. The dragon was still in fighting mode. His arms ached from his awkward night in the bath, but he wouldn’t give her the pleasure of seeing him stretch the muscles. “I never—”
“Don’t lie,” she warned. “I know exactly what was in that drink. A little Maiden’s Breath mixed with just a dash of Last Ember’s root. It makes the victim nice and malleable. Too bad for you, I know what it does and can resist the effects.”
“It’s a traditional drink,” Yusef defended, “not a drug.”
“Nice tradition, dragon. Why don’t you just skip the drugging and get straight to the rape?”
He didn’t think it was possible, but his mood darkened. It would have been better if she’d stabbed him. At a loss for words, he didn’t know how to respond to the accusation.
“Listen, we’re even,” she said. “You don’t try to drug me and I won’t drug you, deal?”
“We do not rape,” Yusef growled, deeply insulted by the insinuation. “The crystal chooses the pairing. With the crystal, the wine makes the mind open. That is why it’s against the law to come together this night. The woman’s will must be left free, so that she may choose freely. The wine helps to connect, to start the foundation of a good life. It helps to…”
Yusef stopped. He didn’t want to tell her it opened a portal between their minds so that someday they would be able to read each other’s thoughts and feelings. Already he could feel the initial stirring of her emotions, though they were too tumultuous to get a good reading on them.
She arched a brow. “Pray, please continue with this lovely lesson on dominant male logic.”
“You’re bleeding,” Yusef stated, afraid of what he had done to her in his confusion upon waking.
“It’s nothing.” She turned her attention to the bed. “Listen, it looks as if we are going to be spending countless hours together, so do you mind if we cut this pleasant little get to know you session until later? I didn’t sleep too well and I have a wicked migraine. Besides, a servant came by and said to tell you that the council is ready to see us as soon as we are dressed.”
She motioned to where his clothes were neatly folded in a pile. Yusef realized he stood before her completely naked. He began to feel a chill. She kept her gaze averted while he donned his clothing. Yusef would have laughed by the show of modesty after having witnessed her little performance last night, but he felt too drained at the moment.
Looking at his chest, he saw his crystal still glowed. Perhaps that is why she did not react to bleeding. She might not be able to feel pain this morning, unless it was like she said, and she was immune to the drink. Come to think of it, it might be her headache he was starting to detect inside his brain. It would make sense if he could feel inside her.
This damn thing might be broken, he mused, again eyeing the crystal.
But when he looked at the red-haired vixen keeping her back to him, he saw her tremble. He felt their connection as strongly as the first moment he’d seen her. She was his life mate. She was his perfect match.
Damn perfection anyway.
* * *
Olena listened to the man behi
nd her as he dressed. A trickle of blood made the slow journey down the back of her arm. The pain brought her comfort and normalcy. She gradually turned her hand so he couldn’t see it. It was easier to handle his anger than his tenderness. Her arm throbbed and she wanted nothing more than to grab it. She refrained.
Yusef sighed. “I smell blood. Let me see your injury.”
“No.” She flicked absently at the dragon on her chest. “I’m fine.”
“Let me see.”
“I’m fine,” she said, growing uncomfortable.
“Are you frightened?” Yusef asked.
“Of what? Of you?”
Sure she was scared of him. She was scared of what he’d made her feel the previous night in his arms. She was scared that even the wound she’d given herself wouldn’t be enough of a reminder for her to fight him—to not fall for his handsome face and fierce dragon eyes.
“Of me, yes,” He came up behind her, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.
Olena flinched but did not back away. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his serious expression. His hair fell forward over his shoulders, framing his face. As she turned to look fully at him, he drew his hand over her back, resting it on the opposite shoulder.
“You mean because you’re a shifter?” She gave a light, unconcerned shrug.
“Yes, because of that.”
“Did you really think I couldn’t figure out you were a dragon-shifter?” She eyed him. “You’re all dragons, right?”
“The Var to the south are cat-shifters,” he said. “But, yes, the Draig are dragon-shifters. This doesn’t frighten you?”
Olena wanted to laugh but didn’t. Lufa, a member of her crew, was a walking amphibian and left a slime trail whenever he was near her. MoPa was a hairy yeti from the Bogylands. Hedge had prickles on his head instead of hair. In a pinch, he made for a damned fine needle. No, she wasn’t scared of a little shifting.
Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition Page 58