by Renee Field
Casting her senses, she caught the dragon-witch’s scent. Immediately, her mind tumbled into the past. Images tunneled through her head of the many people she had come to meet or know through the centuries and there tucked away in that dark part of her mind she never wanted to visit she found the truth.
“You…you were my s’oltaka, my nursemaid,” declared Maeja. She was glad her voice didn’t sound as awed as she felt. There was not a lot she wanted to recall about the ice age that had gripped her planet.
She did remember when a second metallic box fell from the sky and with it basic instructions for first contact between species. Of course by that time the wise women, like this dragon-witch, had learned how to harness the decade-old radio waves that settled on the solar winds. They had gathered enough knowledge of humans to realize they viewed dragons as nothing more than beasts. With each year getting colder and more and more dragons dying because of failed crops and depleted wildlife, Maeja’s mother had publicly stated first contact with humans would take place in humanoid form. The ability to shift from dragon to humanoid was an integral part of their species. That one statement had been met with swift retribution by the opposing factions who viewed her mother’s decree as a slap in the face.
“Yes, I was. I nursed you when your mother was busy reshaping who we are. I told your mother not to issue that decree. We are dragons and should be proud of who we are.”
Maeja laughed. “My mother did what was best for our race.”
“At the time, yes,” said the witch. “Things have changed, Maeja. Even your mother recognized change was part of our evolution. The time has come for us to truly embrace who we are.”
“You can not be serious.”
The dragon-witch nodded affirmatively. “There is a reason you remain barren, Maeja. I will tell you how that can change but first I want your word you will agree to my request.”
Maeja pondered the dragon-witch’s words for a moment. “Fine. I will grant you your request. Tell me.” She had agreed to it but the dragon-witch had not stated the when of it and Maeja, as queen, knew the importance of the fine print.
The dragon-witch cracked a sneaky smile and nodded. “Let the thrall happen…follow the ancient ways. Allow the dragon within you to emerge. Once you embrace the dragon and with the combined power of your two dragon mates—”
“Two dragon mates…that’s ridiculous.” Maeja did not fight the roll of her eyes, even though it was a draka move.
“As I was saying, once the three of you are united through the dragon-mating ritual you will be able to breathe enough dragon-fire spirit back into the blue diamond.”
“That’s a load of rubbish. Two dragon mates. That’s barbaric. That’s not the old ways. And we still haven’t found the blue diamond anyway.”
The witch lifted an eyebrow at her and sighed. “It used to be the way we mated and when the time comes your dragon instinct will scent the way to the diamond. You really must learn to trust yourself.”
“For these last centuries that is all I have done. Trust myself. But what you are telling me, what you are asking of me, goes against all of what my mother taught.”
The cackle from the dragon-witch drew Maeja up sharp. “Your mother had two dragon mates but they were both killed before you were born and before the ice age gripped our planet.”
“That’s insane. That is not true. She would have told me.” Maeja shook her head at the witch’s lies. I knew I should not have come. Then the dragon-witch repeated her words in dragonese and a flush of outrage seared Maeja. Her words were true.
“Now if you are capable of fixing this problem you will grant me my request.”
Maeja simply nodded, still trying to absorb the impact of the witch’s words. She tried to shut out the vivid images cutting shards of glass into her mind. Erotic molten-hot pictures coalesced from some ancient part of herself she thought long tame. Flustered—more than she cared to admit—Maeja forced herself to pay attention to the witch’s words.
“You will allow us to change.”
A huff of outrage spewed forth from Maeja. “I seriously hope you’re not asking what I think you are.”
“You agreed. Fix the problem. Save Castra and allow us to change into what we are—dragons.”
“That is sure to break everything you are telling me I have to fix. The inhabitants of Earth will blow us to bits if they see us as dragons.”
“Oh come, Maeja, we dragons are smarter than that as you well know. You forget that some of us are powerful Mind Dragons, capable of making things appear one way when they are not.”
Maeja digested her words. What does it matter? It is not as if I am going to be able to fix this. “Okay. If I am able to first find the blue diamond and then fix it I will grant your request.” That is not going to happen.
“Seal it with dragon blood.”
“I will not.” Maeja backed up two steps.
“Then I will erase your memories so you know naught and Castra will be destroyed.”
Maeja knew the blasted dragon-witch meant it. How had this witch been her nursemaid? Why would her mother pick a creature like this to guard her? Those questions rumbled through Maeja’s mind, but now was not the time to ask them. Mustering her courage, Maeja held out her hand. With her other hand she allowed a nail to grow razor sharp. She pierced her skin. The dragon-witch followed suit. They shook, royal blue blood mixed with common green blood—a dragon oath sealed.
Maeja had the sinking feeling what she was about to undertake would not only change her for eternity but it would change Castra. Change is not always good. The last change Castra underwent was the ice age and that cold reality was not something she wanted to live through again.
* * * * *
That night Geirsson watched her. Diamond-blue silk draped like a lover’s hand against her pale skin. Her hands skimmed down the length of lush material, outlining her breasts and hourglass figure, but by far Maeja’s best feature was her long shapely legs. They glittered like ice-fired jewels when she walked past her balcony. Geirsson planned to kiss those elegant legs of hers all night long or until she gave in to the beastly desire simmering like a smoking volcano within her. His dragon eyes gave a slow blink, absorbing the hues of her and her room in soft green, red and orange colors.
When Geirsson was in dragon form, his beast—the dragon within his heart and soul—reigned free. It always took effort to maintain control, to keep the rational part of his mind from spiraling into that mad, wild rush that existed solely on instinct. As a dragon, he could become the night. His scales absorbed the inky black sky until he became one with it. That was one of the traits of a Frost Dragon…his chameleon ability to force his metallic, ice-shined scales to be whatever color he wanted or in this case, needed.
Send me your best. Not in this lifetime. Maeja must be crazy if she thought he would send one of his warriors to fuck her. He was the best, and after centuries of torment with the want of her, he planned to snare his prey. This would be a night Maeja, his queen, would never forget.
Geirsson recognized an instant before he felt his large wings unfurl that he was angry, the emotion rigid in its intensity. He blinked again. This time he forced his mind to pay attention to Maeja’s pause. If she saw him she would be outraged. Enough to probably start a dragon hunt. The ironic part was that she would first call on him to lead the charge when in fact he was the prey. Dread swept through him. He held his breath and forced his large outstretched wings to freeze. He sensed more than saw her turn her head, knowing her sensitive ears were homing onto his position. His dragon-heart gave one large lurch, forcing him to take a much-needed breath. Part of Geirsson knew this was a dangerous game he played, but he needed to shake her resolve. You may be royalty but even you, Maeja, need to feel loved.
Geirsson laughed inwardly. Three hundred years ago when she appointed him her personal captain-at-arms he had mistakenly thought she had chosen him as her mate, lover, companion or even friend. Instead, Maeja sealed off the pass
ionate beast that lived inside her. Her one drive at that time had been securing trade and technology with Earth. He too applauded her efforts then. But at what price? It was not lost on Geirsson that he was pondering her reign while hiding his true dragon form from her.
Maybe the factions were right. Maybe they were losing their identity. At the moment it felt that way, otherwise why would Geirsson be fearful of her reaction?
Geirsson sighed. The reaction he wanted from Maeja was one she would not bequeath him. He wanted all of her dragon-heart. And a taste of the beast lying, panting with suppressed passion, but dormant, inside her. He alone longed to awaken that simmering precious fire she tried vehemently to deny herself. He ached to fuck her so long that she begged him, with a smile on those serene lips, for more.
In one quick swoop his sharp talons pushed off their perch. He leaned back, letting the dark of the night engulf his freefall from his precarious position. His wings slid around him, forming a dark cloak of cover as he gave in to the tumble through the air. He wasn’t afraid. Dragons didn’t fear Castra. Instinct would curl up around him, forcing his wings to move the air…and the ground to yield to his dragon form.
Maeja heard it. Her heart thundered with raging heat. The sound harkened back centuries…but every nerve ending in her body recognized it. Wings. Long, thick dragon wings. A dragon had been watching her. Instinctively, she tried to scent the beast, but it was no use. Instead of feeling repulsed a twittering of wild excitement coursed through her. Who dared to defy her edict and change into a dragon? The only person she could think of was Geirsson.
Maybe she had made him angry when she ordered him to bring his best to her. Clutching at the silk fabric, she bunched it in the front, forcing the long lightweight material up so her feet effortlessly glided across her heated marble chamber floor. She stormed out the door and down the corridor, determined to confront Geirsson. Without knocking, she strode in. She sucked her breath in sharply at the sight greeting her eyes. She felt trapped. Paralyzed in awe.
There, leaning against the balcony, was Geirsson. His tanned complexion glistened with sweat. He was naked. His round ass, all muscles of promise, seized her sex, making her wet. Her cunt throbbed for a taste of his potency. Her eyes traveled around his naked back to catch on his mussed tawny hair that looked kissed by the ripples of air as it trailed down to rest lazily on his broad shoulders. Muscles in his wide back bunched with every breath he took. She loved the play of his ass muscles, defined through centuries of sword play, as they clenched for her eyes. His legs were thick and hairy, and he liked to brace them apart in a warrior stance. With his ass poised for her eyes, she noticed his heavy sac. His testicles, a slightly darker hue than the rest of his body, were full with desire.
Her heart beat rapidly and she hated that his sensitive ears could discern her body’s reaction to his. She gritted her teeth—a feeble attempt to once again assert her usual icy control over her body that thrummed for him. For Geirsson. For her captain-at-arms. For the Dragonbane warrior who had shadowed and watched over her for centuries, ensuring she was safe, placing her welfare above his own. This warrior would lay down his life for her. All she had to do was ask.
With her body slightly quaking with unquenchable desire she stood rigid, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. He heard her enter, but didn’t turn around to confront her. Maeja wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or curse. She longed to see all of him, but also highly suspected the sight of his cock would be her downfall.
With her heart racing like the wild winds that buffeted the Solomeen Mountains she edged forward. Fear, excitement and desire…a dangerous recipe churned like unpolished stones through her.
“Where were you?” Her tone was formal. Cold. Ice. All business and cutting. She used that tone on purpose to remind her body he was off-limits.
“Out.”
“You said you’d send me your best. Tonight.”
He turned. It was a double blow seeing all of him. Open, vulnerable and desiring her. A torrent of lust caught in her throat, actually misting her eyes as she forced her shaky legs to remain standing. She had control of the situation. She was his queen and he her subject. The fact he was fully aroused could not be mistaken. The sight of his cock was breathtakingly beautiful and it momentarily robbed her of breath.
There before her stood Geirsson, a Dragonbane warrior, in all his fierce splendor. His shaft, thick and long, stood straight before her. He did not bother cowering before her, or pretending he was not aroused. For a moment she wondered if his arousal was because of her or did he lust after another? That second thought did not sit well with her.
Maeja smiled. He, her captain-at-arms, was baiting her. Hands poised on his hips, he let her drink him in. The burn of awareness—that he clearly wanted her—was evident in his body. His amber-flecked gold eyes were ice cold.
Oh, I did piss him off. He moved to confront her. The blur of his speed actually shocked her. Fear that she had pushed him too far flew through her mind like the rapid beat of dragon wings. With it came something even more shocking. The smell of her arousal. She wanted him. Her dragon scent reached out to enflame the air and cloak them thickly with the promised hue of sex. Perfume filled with dark, wild musk rose, not heeding her desire for it to remain dormant. Sometimes Maeja hated how much control her beast still had over her. Without her consent her body was releasing pheromones, sweetly signaling her aching need. Sweat glistened on her sensitive skin. Maeja closed her eyes to the battle she waged and was losing with her body and mind, which was crying out for her to take this draconic man who was off-limits.
He stood a breath away from her and she knew that concession cost him. Geirsson yearned to grab her and pull her to him. It was in the way he held himself rigidly straight, his hands clenched into fists while he stared defiantly at her. She was queen, and while he had already dared to breach protocol earlier, Maeja got the distinct impression he would not tonight. It would be her choice.
“I am the best. If anyone’s going to fuck you tonight it will be me.”
Chapter Four
There, he had said the words she longed for but dreaded to hear. The challenge was thick with desire. The spoken words clung to the air molecules they both sucked into their lungs in unison. Maeja’s nostrils flared and the deep throb of her core thickened with lust as the steady pulse of her cunt beckoned to Geirsson’s jutting, magnificent cock.
His shaft, thick like the rest of him in its width, was sheathed in its own hood. He had not gone through the new ritual in which a dragon male allowed his foreskin to be torn off him. She was thankful for that. The novelty of having all of him steamed like a coating of passion, adding moisture to her skin. Maeja highly suspected he was teasing her with his draconic stance. Part of her was annoyed at his nonchalant attitude.
Well, two can play at this game.
Maeja leaned into him. Teasing him with her scent and body. With a bold stroke of her tongue she wet her lips, hooking his eyes in the process. The move—uncharacteristic—was deliberately provocative. “Really, is that so?”
This time he made contact. His hands clamped around her arms, making her tremble. His dragon strength was something she had always been proud of. She loved the dominant nature of the beast…the dragon she was playing with that lay dormant inside him. His body forced her to move back into the cold stone wall of his bedroom. Like most Dragonbane warriors, Geirsson’s private chamber was sparse. He lived in the old section of the palace where all the warriors resided. It was close enough to her private quarters but also kept with tradition. He preferred it that way. Countless times she had pushed him to acquire a new, more modern chamber. He would not.
She should put a stop to the dangerous game they played. They both knew her capable of stepping away, or using her strength to push him off her. When it came to dragon strength, the females of their species always reigned supreme. That was why she was queen and why the line of succession had always been matriarchal.
Fli
cking her eyes up to him, she said, “I came to you tonight because I sensed a dragon…but that can not be, can it, Geirsson? No one would defy me.”
“I just did.”
His voice, husky and thick, slid through her senses, fueling the churning inside her stomach into a wild storm of desire. Notching up her chin at him, she kept her eyes open. “You did?”
Lazily he leaned into her body. His naked, sweat-glistened muscular chest with its tawny hairs pressed against the light fabric she wore. Her gown was the only barrier. It felt like a heavy shield and one Maeja longed to throw away. He licked her neck. The act was as old as dragon time, significant in its enticement as he flicked his dragon-sharp tongue back and forth over her throbbing pulse of life.
When she did not resist or lean her own neck back, accepting her fate, he stilled his skillful deliberations.
“Yes, Maeja, I did. I did not send you my best tonight as you asked. I defied you.”
“You did, didn’t you?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. His neck tendons stood out sharply. He was deeply aroused and it pleased Maeja that he fought to maintain control.
Keeping with dragon tradition, it was her turn. He had licked her pulse of life, and in order for him to proceed, she had to grant him permission. Her eyes traveled down the length of his body. He shivered under her penetrating gaze, but wisely remained silent. His cock, while thick before, doubled in width and at the tip, a red appendage shaped like a forked tongue peeked out. She wet her lips, yearning to give in to what her body wanted. His cock. All of his cock, including the dragon part he painfully controlled. The red appendage teased the slit at the top and spoke to her more than any words Geirsson could say.
When two dragons were filled with dragon lust…when the mating cycle for both was perfect, only then did the tip of the male dragon’s cock reveal itself. The prophecy of the dragon-witch’s words crashed through her. This was her time. Her only time. But could she allow herself to go through the ancient thrall and take two Dragonbane warriors as lovers? The idea should have repulsed her, and at one time it would have. With the perfume of their combined lust heating the air, that was no longer the case. If the witch’s vision was true then she had to undertake this perilous journey for Castra…for her planet, for her race and just maybe for her one true hope.