Dragon's Desire

by Miranda Martin

“Yes,” she says, finally. “I do, but…”

  The “but” hangs in the air, filled with dread. Whatever follows it is not going to be something I want to hear. She doesn’t say any more, and again the silence drags out, broken only by the soft sound of my feet hitting the sand and the whisper of my spread wings using the wind to carry us forward. I wait, a sense of foreboding pounding me until at last I can’t take it.

  “But?” I prompt her.

  “Duty,” she says, the simple word that carries so much with it.

  It opens the black hole of despair that comes with it. Brief images flash across my thoughts, breaking them up, bodies scattered in front of me, broken and mutilated. Screaming, tears, pain, the red rage buries them and I hiss.

  “It’s a two-way street,” I growl. “They betrayed us.”

  Glancing down, I see her frown before she buries her face against me. She tightens her grip around my neck but doesn’t say anything. My hearts pound in my chest, anger driving them, making my breathing short and ragged. My muscles tingle with the urge to hit something, anything, to let the raging storm inside out. She doesn’t understand. How can she? I can’t explain it, none of it makes sense, but I know I’m right.

  She doesn’t say more, and I can’t put my thoughts into words, so we travel west, towards the setting primary sun. The land changes as we travel, the rolling dunes flattening, rocky protrusions appearing less often. Dimly I remember this area but it’s been a very long time since I traveled this far. Dusk deepens and my stomach grumbles so I slow down and come to a stop. I lower Sarah to her feet and slide my pack off my back. I didn’t come unprepared, even though I was acting on impulse. I get out some tinder from my pack and prepare a small fire, using my throat glands to set it ablaze. Earlier today I wrapped some smoked meat in oilcloth—now it seems like years ago. I also packed the folding skewers Zmaj use for travel, and now I thread chunks of meat onto a skewer and hold it over the fire.

  Sarah sits across from me, knees pulled up in front of her and arms wrapped around them. The silence is heavy with unspoken words and thoughts. The whirlwind inside that hasn’t stopped since my showdown with Visidion continues to swirl and rage. A mix of images, emotions, and the ever-present fog of the bijass tinged with the rage it brings. She has to understand. Somehow I have to make her. After holding the meat over the fire until it’s sizzling, I offer it to her first. Daintily she works a piece off the skewer, then blows on it before popping it in her mouth.

  Her perfect, sweet mouth. An urge to kiss her consumes me, and I’m leaning towards her before I know it. Until she pulls back, eyes wide, mouth open.

  “Drosdan,” she says. Stabbing, sharp pain drives into my hearts, forcing them to stop beating if only for a moment. The maelstrom in my head stops, replaced with cold that runs through my limbs. Drawing back from her, I nod and sit down on the opposite side of the fire. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  Staring at her, I can’t find the words to answer. I try but nothing will come out of my mouth. She shakes her head, then raises her hands and drops them. One heart beats then the other follows suit, and the world goes back into motion, although seemingly slower than normal. Placing a piece of meat in my mouth, I fill the silence by chewing. Swallowing my voice finally returns.

  “It’s fine,” I lie.

  It’s anything but fine. I don’t know what this means.

  “No, it’s not,” she says. “It’s just… what are we doing?”

  “Leaving,” I answer, honest and blunt. “We don’t need them.”

  “They need us,” she says.

  “No!” I say harsher than I intend but anger flashes hot. “They don’t. They think they do, they use us, tell us what to do, and we act without thought or concern. They don’t care about us, so why should we care about them!”

  “Drosdan, you know that’s not true,” she says.

  “It is,” I say. “I asked, no I begged them not to send you out with him. Did they listen? No. Then when they found out I was giving you some aid, they ordered me to stop. How would you survive without it? Those people can’t feed themselves! You would starve!”

  Frowning, she stares at me from across the small fire casting flickering shadows across her face, making it impossible for me to read. She has to understand.

  “So that’s what happened,” she says.

  “What?” I ask, confusion hitting. It’s not the response I expected.

  “I knew something bad had to happen. You would never have done this otherwise.”

  Her soft voice cuts through the storm inside, pushing it aside and speaking truth that I can’t deny.

  “Yes,” I agree. “I couldn’t…”

  I can’t finish the words. They wanted me to stop, but the risk to her would have been too great. I couldn’t live with myself. Sarah nods then sighs loudly. She stands, circles the fire, and sits down beside me, snuggling against me. When I put my arm around her shoulders, she lays her head on my chest. Her warms hands on my scales bring me all the comfort I need in the world.

  “I get it,” she says. “But what do we do now?”

  “I’ll take care of us,” I say. “It will be like before. Before the Tribe, before the City, before all of it. Then I was alone, but now we will have each other.”

  “Okay,” she says.

  Her agreement is everything. It’s as if the universe turns, and everything that was wrong becomes right. Quiet comes inside me, all the noise, the anger, and the bijass stops. When I’m holding her close, nothing else enters my thoughts. Her breathing evens out a few minutes after she lays her head on my chest. Slowly the moon rises into the sky, casting its silver light across the open sand. The fire’s crackle slows as it dies to nothing but a small pile of glowing embers. Contentment, something I haven’t felt in so long it takes me a while to recognize it, fills me. I can feel her heart beating against me, her warm breath crossing my scales, the touch of her soft skin on my fingers as I draw small circles on her back.

  Time passes but I don’t notice it going. My world is in my arms, and the depth of satisfaction I feel right now is absolute. A light breeze stirs the sand, sending sparks flying out of the coals of our fire, and then a cloud passes over the moon, casting a shadow over us. Sarah stirs, then stretches and yawns.

  “Mm, sorry,” she says, raising her head.

  “It’s fine,” I say. “You needed the rest.”

  “Are we okay here? Should we move on?”

  “When you’re ready, we’ll continue,” I say.

  “What about you, don’t you need some sleep? I can sit watch,” she offers.

  Smiling, I shake my head, appreciating her concern.

  “It’s not necessary,” I say.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  She frowns but doesn’t argue further. Rising to her feet she stretches again and yawns. Climbing to my feet as well I close up my pack while she works out kinks.

  “We’re really doing this?” she asks, hands on her hips.

  “You have a better idea?” I ask.

  She purses her lips, frowning, her brow furrowing.

  “No,” she says, shaking her head at last.

  “Then we’re doing this,” I say. “You want me to carry you?”

  “I can walk, for now,” she says holding her hand out to me.

  I take hers in mine and lead the way. The silence between us is more comfortable, if not as good as when she was sleeping on my chest, but at least I don’t feel like I’m walking on quicksand. Continuing west, the land is completely flat now. The sand is no longer soft like the rolling dunes of home, but hard packed, making travel easier. Glancing behind us, our footsteps leave an obvious trail, but there’s nothing I can do about it. There is a soft breeze that will eventually erase the traces of our passage, before anyone stumbles across them, I hope.

  The stars shine more brightly as the sky clears, and the silvery moon makes our travel easy. It would be difficult for anything to attack u
s without warning, which is good. Something, deep in my guts, recognizes the area. A dim familiarity that I can’t put my finger on. Grasping at the concepts of it, it slips away like a zmeya snake, never coming to fruition.

  “So, do we have a plan yet?” Sarah asks, pausing to drink some water from her canteen.

  “Yes,” I say, only partially lying.

  “Oh?” she asks, arching an eyebrow. Moonlight touches her brow making her eyes sparkle. Her beauty takes my breath. “And it is?”

  Shaking my head, I try to cover my inability to speak. Swallowing hard, I push the lump in my throat down, willing my hearts to slow their beat.

  “There’s something ahead,” I say.

  “Something?”

  “Yes.”

  “You realize that’s really vague, right?” she asks, her voice musical with the delight and joy she brings to everything.

  “Yes,” I smile.

  “And you’re going to leave it at that?”

  She steps closer, fingertips touching my chest, tracing along the edges of my scales, trailing fire with their passage. Staring into her bright eyes once more, I can’t form words. Thought shatters at her touch. Impulsively, I bend to her and kiss her. Touching her soft, plump lips makes a fire blaze in my core as my primary cock engorges. She gives to me, pressing her body, molding against me. I wrap my arms around her and lift her off her feet, then spin around, holding her tight. She moans into the kiss, moving her hips in a grinding motion against me.

  My cock pounds with desire, wanting to be buried inside her warmth. Hands on her perfect, round ass, squeezing, I drive my tongue past her full lips, claiming her mouth as my cock wants to claim her lower lips. Her tongue meets mine, wrestling for control, not giving in but being my match. The perfect mate, my treasure. A warm glow races out through my limbs, engulfing me and I feel it overtaking her as well. More than desire, more than need, it’s a claiming. Marking her as mine and me as hers. We belong together—it is fate—binding us one to another.

  A sharp screech cuts through the kiss. Crouching and setting her down at the same time, I reach for the lochaber on my back, ready for an attack. A shadow passes over, blocking out the moonlight. Overhead a flock of sismis passes, screeching loudly. With an arm around Sarah’s waist, I gently pull her underneath me, spreading my wings to break up our outline. The only real danger to us from the pack is that there are too many of them. Alone, I could fight the entire pack, but having to keep her safe while dealing with them is too dangerous. It’s much better if I can avoid them.

  They pass overhead and then circle back. Sarah is breathing in ragged gasps beneath me, and I feel her tremble. I want to reassure her, but don’t dare risk making a sound. Their screech is louder, so they’re flying lower as they circle. Tightening my grip on the lochaber, muscles tensing, I’m ready to leap to the attack. They circle away again. Next pass, I’ll attack. Watching in my peripheral vision, holding my breath, ready to move, I wait. Another screech, distant now, but they might still circle back. Tense, waiting, seconds crawling past.

  Sarah exhales heavily, drawing another trembling breath. Her entire body shakes beneath me. Anger pulses through me, building towards a blinding rage. Nothing should make her feel this way. I am her protector.

  An even more distant screech. They’re retreating. Remaining a few moments more to be sure, at last I rise, helping Sarah to her feet as well. She looks around wide-eyed, then throws her arms around my chest, crushing herself against me.

  “It’s okay,” I say, softly, enclosing her in my arms.

  She sobs, shaking.

  “I know,” she says, still shaking.

  I hold her, silent, unsure what words to say until she calms.

  9

  Sarah

  I can’t believe we’re doing this.

  I’ve never, ever considered leaving. I owe Rosalind everything, but what am I supposed to do? Drosdan is insistent that we leave. I don’t want to, well mostly I don’t. Part of me does. When he talks about the two of us living together, no worries but for each other, it calls to some deep part of me. A part of me I’ve ignored all my life. When he looks at me, his smoldering eyes, massive muscles bulging, that imposing presence, and I know that beneath that hard exterior is a soft, loving man, I can’t help myself. He makes me feel like a princess.

  Me, a princess.

  I never thought of myself like that, not even in my dreams. I’m not the one in the spotlight, I’m the best friend. If I were in a movie, I’m the supporting actress, never the star. That’s who I am, and I’ve always been good with that. I never wanted to be the star of the show. Until Drosdan.

  He changed everything. When we met, I thought he was hot, of course I did, look at him. So strong, massive muscles, a jaw line that any alpha male would kill to have. I’m a girl and alive, after all, so why wouldn’t I notice that he was sexy as hell? It’s not like I was going to act on that, I’m not that kind of girl. It’s never been his looks to me, those are a bonus.

  He came to me, that first time, with a tiny, wilted flower. So small looking in his enormous hand, and he held it out to me, silent, staring at me with pleading eyes. His hand trembled. It trembled! Staring at the flower then looking into his eyes, I fell into them and lost myself. All like some kind of freak accident, unplanned, unexpected, but it felt so right.

  We shouldn’t be together. We have no right to it. Our lives are dedicated to our leaders, him to Visidion and me to Rosalind, but that very dedication kept bringing us into each other’s presence. Sighing, I shake my head. Cold chills form in my stomach, combating the ever-present heat of Tajss. Drosdan’s hand rests on the small of my back as we walk, the weight of it somehow reassuring.

  Our first kiss comes to mind. We’d been working together secretly, of course, since shortly after I’d started infiltrating Gershom’s camp. Our first meetings had been mostly accidental crossings of our paths, but those accidents started happening more and more often until I was certain he was making them occur. This had gone on for a long time. I’d be leaving a meeting with Rosalind, sneaking out of the building to make sure none of Gershom’s followers spotted me, and he’d be waiting in the stairwell, or just happen to be coming through a door as I was passing by.

  I can’t help smiling remembering how he’d just happen to be there, without fail.

  We’d talked a lot about everything, sharing our thoughts and hopes with each other. Then the kiss. Unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome.

  His cool lips finding mine, his strong arms encircling me. I’d jerked back, at first, but quickly gave in to his attention. Everything changed in that moment.

  Now, at the memory, desire roars to life inside my core. His touch on the small of my back is a warm presence from which tingling need surges through my body.

  When I glance up at him next to me, my lips ache for his, but in this place there is nothing but open exposed sand. No matter the urge, I can’t give myself to him in the open wilds like this. No, it has to be something special. This would never do. Pushing desire away, thoughts spinning with the force of the urging in my body, I grasp for anything to take my mind off it.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say the first thought that comes to me. He frowns but doesn’t say anything. “I mean, it’s just… crazy.”

  “It could be,” he says, still he doesn’t look at me, marching determinedly ahead.

  “And?” I prompt after a while when he doesn’t expand on the thought.

  Shaking his head he shrugs.

  “I don’t care,” he says.

  “Oh,” I say, unsure how to respond.

  It spins my head how he’s acting. Something is off with him, but I don’t know what. We continue in silence, again, while I can do nothing but hope. Surely he’ll tell me. I know he does care—really, I’m certain of that. The change has to have been caused by something. There’s a solemnity to him that is new. He’s always been serious, sure, rough on the outside even. A real tough guy, to
everyone but me.

  I don’t know how long I wait. There’s no measurement of time when you’re trotting across the desert, but eventually I can’t wait any longer so I break the silence.

  “Drosdan,” I say.

  “Yes?” he asks.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” I say, stopping.

  He comes to a stop, turning to face me, bright eyes glittering in the rising suns’ light. The beams of light bounce off his scales, creating tiny rainbows in the air between us. He crosses his bulging arms over his massive chest. His wings open partway, casting a shadow across me. Matching his pose, I meet his gaze, unwavering, waiting for him to answer.

  “Only what I said,” he says.

  “Right,” I agree. “I got that, now tell me the truth. There’s something happening that you haven’t told me.”

  His eyes break from mine, staring out across the empty desert behind us. His jaw tightens as his hands ball into fists. He inhales deeply, holding it in, puffing out his chest.

  “I don’t know,” he says, exhaling.

  “You don’t know what?” I prod further.

  He starts to shake his head, but then comes to some kind of decision and meets my eyes. The pain in his look causes an answering, stabbing pain deep into my heart. My breath catches in my throat as I’m rocked back by the depths of it in him.

  “I don’t… know. Memories, images—they make no sense.”

  I’m drawn into him as if he’s a whirlpool sucking me closer. I can’t keep myself from him. Closing the small distance between us, placing my hand on his chest, I run my fingers across his pecs, back and forth until he uncrosses his arms and welcomes me in. When I lay my head against his chest, the sound of his hearts races like the beating of horses’ hooves galloping down a track. His arms close around me, and I place my own arms around him, holding him as much as he’s holding me. His fingers run through my hair, down my back, then up again.

  Heat rises as the suns crest the horizon on their daily climb. Holding him until his hearts slow their pace to something closer to normal, the time passes and I don’t care. Once I hear them slow, I pull my head off his chest, but keep my arms wrapped tight around him.