Dragon Series: Dragon Heat

by Missy Lyons

  The dark-haired rogue in the center spoke first. “Peace be on you,” he returned the greeting. How did he know the proper manners of this place? It was obvious with his attitude he was the leader of this bunch now. “We humbly accept with gratitude and wish only to seek your wise advice.” He took control easily as if his broad shoulders could carry the weight of the world. He looked less nervous than the others did as he sat down at the table in front of them.

  There was not much time to speculate as Alyssa hurried to the kitchen to gather up the first course, to run out to the tables. Hannah was already removing the fresh baked rolls from the oven and placing them in baskets. They smelled so good, Alyssa licked her lips in anticipation, but she had no time to eat now.

  Her first duty was to get all the guests fed. She was the lowest ranking girl. By all rights, that dance should have gone to someone else. Elsbeth, Edena, anyone else but her. Alyssa cursed her luck to have been standing next to the queen as she thought to have entertainment. Having taken no oath yet, she really didn't fully belong, her place in this society unsteady at best. That also meant she had to work the least desired jobs and brook no argument.

  Running in and out of the kitchen, she only heard tidbits of information.

  "So what is the purpose of your visit, Prince Xanther?” Alyssa fought to keep her eyes down. This is what she and everyone else wanted to hear. She poured the wine to his men first, moving closer to him slowly, savoring his words, while he ignored her. She was just another servant to him.

  "I am here for my father."

  "Oh?"

  "Well my father has sent me from our lands to ask for your alliance. We have heard rumors of the Hammond Empire building up their forces at our borders. There have been two planned attacks on the king, in an attempt to overthrow the throne. We wish to renew our alliance and need help."

  Xanther's piercing green eyes were determined, his red hair swept back in a leather tie at the nape of his neck. He had a dangerous look about him but more than anything he looked like he belonged in this room of red-haired women. The women were a true family related by blood, sharing the red hair, but some had varying shades of eyes, both blues, and greens but most shared the emerald green eyes he had.

  "So, it would not be to claim your inheritance?"

  "No,” Xanther stated simply.

  "This would restore the Elisaid to glory and return their freedom of movement. Surely you can see how it will benefit both parties?"

  "No,” Xanther repeated firmly. Then he went on to add, “There have been several attempts on the throne."

  "Pity you had not thought to come to us earlier. Magic can die out too easily. I gather they were unsuccessful or you would not be here?"

  "Yes and these attempts were on my father. Your earth magic would help us to find the traitor.” Xanther once again tried to keep the conversation focused on his purpose here.

  Her eyebrows rose. It was true, the Druids would be sensitive to the balance of nature, the thing that caused a man to desire the power of the throne would cause a rift in the force of nature and be his own undoing. The Sinclair had their own magic, so it said something that they had not found the traitor already.

  "He lives, but barely; he's recovering from the poison still. He is under close watch now, while he recovers."

  "Do you know who would have done such a thing?"

  "No, but I believe they were politically motivated, and there are quite a few who could stand to gain something from his death. The humans on the other side of the island have been growing in numbers. It has made my people uneasy. Father has no more children and I, without an heir, leave the throne vulnerable to takeover."

  "You would inherit first, but without an heir...” The words went unspoken, but it was there. His uncle was next to inherit the throne. Could his uncle have masterminded this? No, the man may be greedy but he wouldn't kill off his own family. Isabella pushed the ugly thought aside.

  "Yes, but a country struggling for power is also ripe for takeover."

  "So you wish for us to do what? To drive out the traitor? To find the people who poisoned your father?” Isabella asked with a note of concern.

  "I have no doubt you could find our man or men, to help us to unravel the plot. Your skills would find the truth. Where my personal bodyguards have failed me, the Elisaid would not. I need you. Father needs you. No man can lie to you and it would be quicker to draw out the man responsible."

  "I could not go personally."

  "Why not?"

  "I am needed here. Any woman could do the job you request."

  "Do you understand what it did to him when you left him?"

  "Any woman can do the job you request,” she repeated firmly.

  "No, you hurt him. You could have been royalty. He loved you and you killed him when you left him. He never remarried. I wouldn't have to worry myself so quickly if he would take a wife, and have children, but you broke his heart and his spirit. You were his mate and he wanted no other."

  "Xanther, please don't do this now. My vows prevent me from leaving my responsibilities."

  "Your honor should make you want to return."

  "Tomorrow, I will give you two of my best warriors to serve as your bodyguard and the king's bodyguard.” Lady Isabella did not respond to his last request, but his words had hit home. There was a pain in her that showed in her eyes.

  "Of my choice?"

  "Of course, but they must have sufficient skills."

  "My men and I would like to leave as soon as possible to return home."

  "I would like to consider it a trade. Your men for my women and the promise of their safe return."

  "They would have to agree to it. But I would much rather trade with you. Perhaps the stones of Jabar instead?” Lady Isabella looked surprised to hear he had access to the small green stone. Only one was known to be in existence and that was always on Isabella's body. She wore it on a necklace and it fell neatly between her breasts.

  "Where did you find stones?” she said quickly. To any human they would just be a pretty green stone, but to an Elisaid such a stone helped to focus and refine the gift. It attracted magic and increased the effectiveness of spells and wards.

  "Does it matter?” he evaded.

  "Why, Xanther, I underestimated you.” Isabella decided to let the issue drop, knowing he had no intention of telling her.

  "I thought the Celtic stones would prove useful."

  "You understand we would have to take precautions. Elisaid blood could be made into a most dangerous weapon."

  "Who would you recommend?"

  "Ceallach is strong. Misty has a quiet disposition that will blend nicely with your women and go unnoticed. Elsbeth seems to be displaying exceptional skills. Anyone here would serve with honor."

  Alyssa slowed to almost a stop when she poured his wine. As she withdrew the flask, her breasts brushed his shoulder, triggering a chain reaction. Looking back at the moment Alyssa would swear she felt a sizzling energy sweep through her at his touch. This so surprised her, the flask dropped from her hands, dripping scarlet liquid across his groin. His hand captured hers and she locked eyes with his.

  "Clumsy girl, what did you do—?” His other hand picked up the flask, returning it to the table.

  Please don't let him know me. He couldn't know me. Frustrated green eyes locked onto brown with interest and mild annoyance but no recognition, just mild curiosity. But he had not released her hand. Some of her fear abated as she realized he had not been sent to find her. They were not there under Drake's orders, but that would not stop them from wanting to take her home with them.

  She was hit with a dreamy feeling of separation, from her body and soul. Had she ever felt this way before? She was losing control, like she could step outside her body and into his arms, reaching his soul. His head was cocked to one side and his eyes sparkled. His eyes beckoned to her, filling her with a nervousness that awakened a hunger in her unseasoned body.

  A long forgotten
power leapt in her stomach, stretching out like a lion. Alyssa felt such a heady feeling, half in this world, half not, surrounded by hundreds. At this moment, it was just her and this man. This gorgeous, hot-blooded man who pushed all of her senses to the brink. Her gift was taking effect. She felt the threads of awareness, tiny needles of power erupting near the surface. She waited an entire year and it chose now to unfurl?

  A force exploded within her. She never felt anything quite like this. The rush of power flowing in her veins shocked her, but it was his eyes which held her captive. He must have those stones in his possession. Alyssa wondered at the power of the dragon stones if she could feel it just by touching the man who held the stones. It must be their magic she felt.

  "Sorry s-sir,” she stuttered. The words came out distant, the strength of his grip on her arms restrained. The women exercised for hours to maintain half as much muscle as this man probably got from working naturally. He was dressed too fine to be a laborer. His white shirt was starched, framing his thick chest, in stark contrast with his bronzed skin. “Please let me clean that for you. I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me,” she babbled nervously. She set the flask down on the table to pick up the napkin.

  She reached down to dab up the pearls of liquid, stopping herself before actually touching him. What was she doing with her hands in his lap? She looked up at his face with trepidation before speaking, blushing ferociously, “Umm, maybe I should just let you get that."

  He disarmed her with a smile, looking at her for a moment, quizzically, his head slanted while he regarded her in a quiet contemplation. Like a deer waiting for a hunter to strike, she was paralyzed, unable to move from his gaze. Such beautiful eyes. No man should be blessed with such beautiful emerald eyes. I could drown happy just staring at them, she thought miserably.

  As quickly as he grabbed her, he released her from his grip. It was all Alyssa could do to break the gaze. She watched him dab up the liquid on his pants. His silence was foreboding. Why wouldn't he speak?

  Just as suddenly, he broke the awkward silence between them. “Quite alright, really.” His lips spread into a wide smile aimed at her, melting her heart immediately, forgiving her, and dismissing her, a twinkle in his eyes, before returning his attention to Lady Isabella. “As you were saying?"

  It caused a disturbing feeling of regret in Alyssa. Shouldn't she feel relieved? Instead she felt a little aggrieved at being ignored. Wasn't that what she wanted? To be ignored and forgotten? The last thing she wanted was to be noticed!

  Alyssa felt unbalanced. She meant to draw little or no attention to herself, blend into the shadows. It started when she first saw him—she knew the danger he presented to her. Now she was dangerously aware of him. Instead of running, she was about to throw herself into the center of attention. No, warriors don't hide. She straightened her shoulders as she consciously stood up and straightened her silk skirts.

  At the same time she wondered, what was it about him that brought her power to the surface? The same gift that she struggled to control for close to a year now? She had spent hundreds of hours trying to focus and control it. Alyssa had not been able to do more than defend herself with it. Spells went awry. She couldn't throw her voice. No more out-of-body experiences and no dreams other than her own. Just a wall, a barrier that was unbreakable by everyone here; if she chose to let it down, she could. But if she chose to put it up, no one had been able to break her defenses.

  A shiver of anticipation went through her spine. This is where her world was about to change. For better or worse, she did not know, but she knew it would forever be changed after tonight. It was not her imagination that his eyes sought her out from amongst the others. Alyssa stood out from the other women. She was taller, slender, almost boy-like in comparison to the curvaceous ladies present. It was not exactly easy to hide, though she wanted to. Her shoulders dropped sharply, attempting to blend better. Some other woman will seduce him and he will never even notice me leaving.

  Lady Isabelle rose from her seat, drawing attention to herself once again.

  "Ladies, please clear the floor.” The women drifted to the sides of the room—some, Alyssa noticed, took the opportunity to move closer to the men, flirting outrageously. “In honor of our special guests, Vara and Ceallach have prepared some entertainment for your dinner.” Lady Isabella was the eldest but also one of the most graceful and elegant ladies in the room. Her manners seemed refined and well practiced.

  Well there would be no running now. Alyssa swallowed, trying to calm her fears. Maybe they wouldn't notice. They could be too distracted by the wine and the women. Alyssa didn't know why she was so afraid now. She wasn't afraid of the whip or death. She wasn't afraid of anything, even the two soldiers he brought with him, but she feared this man.

  This man was dangerous to who she was. Xanther chilled her to the bone, but it wasn't a violent danger she felt from him, but more like he could change the course of her life as she knew it. Alyssa trusted her intuition—she would not have been alive this long if it wasn't for her instincts. If she could, she would stay away from him, no matter what pull she felt for him.

  Ceallach had already moved to the center of the circle and had two swords; she held out one for Alyssa. Alyssa straightened her back and held her head high, while she tried to maintain her own sort of dignity. Her resolve to maintain a certain amount of aloofness shattered when she met his eyes. It wasn't the attention of the ladies she called her clan, it was Xanther. She cursed her luck as she waited for the familiar music to begin the dance and her eyes locked on his again.

  He didn't know her secret yet, but he would. When he did he would probably take her over his shoulder and ... Oh no. Who was she kidding? Half the clan would be in his bed tonight. What had Phillipa said? She was seventeenth in line for mating with him? Surely, Alyssa would be last. That was if she even wanted him. Which she assured herself, she did not.

  With raw determination, Alyssa lifted her chin and met his stare. She would match him as good as he gave. Edena was on his arm, a fifteen year old girl-child who was heavily endowed, chattering to him. Alyssa felt a pang of emotion in the pit of her stomach recoil at the thought of them together. Elsbeth brushed the hair away from his face and laughed, talking to him quite comfortably. Alyssa felt a flash of jealousy wash over her. It wasn't her that was bringing a smile to his lips, feeling his touch.

  Such crazy thoughts! What am I doing? Pining over a man that isn't even mine. I don't really want him anyway. Phillipa, the lusty wench, had moved to Xanther's side. The other two men had a circle of women about them. By the time her dance was over, there wouldn't be a man to choose even if she wanted to participate in lovemaking.

  Alyssa held her sword in the air waiting for the drums to begin, her back to Ceallach. She felt it when Ceallach moved to face her, and they mirrored each other's actions. They circled each other and Alyssa focused on letting her body display the emotions the dance was meant to convey.

  Independent, powerful and strong as a warrior, she circled Ceallach like a hunter. On the fourth turn they struck simultaneously, the first of many blows. The first duty of the Elisaid warrior was to protect. This was a serious dance. Alyssa knew that Lady Isabella held this dance for a reason. To remind the ladies of Elisaid of their duties. One duty. One choice. To protect the line and their knowledge. Every woman made the choice, and every woman protected the line in one way or another. Tonight many would make another choice. A hunt had already begun, and their prey would be these men.

  The sword felt powerful in Alyssa's hands. This was her destiny. This was her greatest desire—to be a warrior for the Elisaid and a warrior for herself. Nowhere did that leave room for love. She dreamed of love, but that was in another life. A life before she became a warrior.

  She parried effortlessly, but this wasn't a real fight, every move was choreographed, and Alyssa was to show the other duty. In one swift move, Ceallach had disarmed her. Alyssa went to her and fell slowly down her body, pressi
ng her hands and the length of her body wantonly along Ceallach's body. One duty, one choice—if you pick one, you cannot pick the other.

  Everyone's eyes were on her. She made the mistake of looking at Xanther. His eyes drew her in. She felt it impossible to break contact.

  For the first time Alyssa imagined a man beside her skin. She rose to her feet and when she began swaying, seductively, it was meant to arouse the men. It was not the silk, but his thighs she felt rubbing against hers as she swayed. Desire flushed her face when she met his gaze again.

  The silk scarves she removed one by one, as she arched and teasingly touched herself in intimate places, mimicking the art of sex. She threw silks teasingly near the men but just out of reach.

  Xanther grabbed one and brought it to his face, inhaling her scent. Alyssa smiled; she missed a step but recovered quickly. His desire was obvious and she imagined if he grabbed her into his arms, she would go willingly at this moment. She would not fight it.

  The drums picked up speed and her hips swayed faster, feverishly picking up the pace. She was near naked in the end. Her breasts were unrestrained, glistening with light perspiration. Her groin remained covered by thin lacy strips, only a few silks left, thin misty material that did nothing to hide her body or her mark. Chains dripped evenly to both sides and a dirk at her waist, another strapped to her inner thigh. She never took them off. She remained proud and didn't flinch when she caught his eyes raking over her body with that same hungry look of appreciation.

  She was lost in the rhythm of the drums and the melody of the dance, letting the last of the silks drop, revealing her nakedness, covered only by a tattoo in the small of her back and a small belt of razor-edged daggers dangling from her waist.