Dragon Heat (Dragons of Perralt Book 2)

by Sher Dillard

  .o0o.

  Laila thought her heart was going to break through her rib cage, it was pounding so hard. This was the moment. Everyone was depending on her. The people of Fifth Point. Flint, for his damn coin. Even Emily. She had worked so hard. This was the turning point for the rest of her life.

  The wide doors opened, and a man stepped in. Laila’s heart stopped dead in its tracks and fell to the floor at her feet. The man was a toad.

  Dressed in brown and tan, He probably stood barely over five and a half feet. His hips were wider than his shoulders. With a pudgy stomach that hung over his belt. His thin brown hair looked like someone had washed it in pig’s urine. To top it off, he had three ugly red pimples on his forehead. Each one, bigger than the last.

  Laila thought she would be sick right there in front of everyone. This was her prince? She would be spending the rest of her nights in bed next to this?

  The thought sent recurring shudders throughout her body. In long oscillating waves, they continued to pass through her. Building the gut wrenching revulsion with each one.

  ‘Laila,' she chastised herself. How dare you judge him solely on his looks? Maybe he is a nice man. Maybe he is funny and kind to animals. You shouldn’t judge him …”

  At that point, the new prince turned, and slapped one of his guardsmen. His open hand catching the big man directly on the cheek. Standing up on his toes and leaning forward, the prince said something to the man that made his face turn red with embarrassment.

  Laila couldn’t tell what the Guardsman had done to deserve such a reprimand, especially in public, but her heart went out to him.

  She looked at the prince again. Desperately seeking any sign of goodness or worth. Instead. All she saw was a small, pampered, useless bag of crap. The kind of man who uses his position and wealth to force others to his will.

  Her heart began to beat again as she shot Flint a glance.

  He looked back at her and cocked his head to the side. As if to say, ‘you wanted a prince.’

  Laila huffed. This was not what she wanted. But, it was probably what she would end up with. It was either this or return to Fifth Point. The slums and alleys of hell, where she would spin out her few remaining years scrambling for something to eat. All the while, defending her virtue and guarding her back.

  Let’s see, a life of misery or a life of pain. You choose, Laila.

  Flint looped her right arm in his and patted her hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he said. “We will find another prince somewhere.”

  “That’s right,” Lady Emily said from her other side. “I am sure we can find someone else.”

  Laila scoffed and shook her head. “Yeah right? Like princes grow on trees around here. I’m a girl from Fifth Point, remember? I’ve seen worse.”

  She straightened her back and lifted her chin. Then, looking at Flint, she raised an eyebrow, silently commanding him to escort her to the Prince.

  Flint stared down at her for a long moment. As if trying to decide if he would comply or not. A fleeting sense of maybe flashed through her, but it was just as quickly killed a merciful death. Flint sighed heavily, then began leading her to the Prince.

  The Ambassador quickly spotted their approach and began fidgeting in place. This was his moment, Laila realized. He looked like he was about to be served his favorite desert. Anticipation and hope mixed together in equal amounts.

  “Your Highness,” the Ambassador said to the Prince, “may I introduce Princess Laila of Perralt. - Princess, Prince Jeffery, of Caylan.” The ambassador smiled at them both.

  The Prince stood there looking down at her from his lofty five foot six. His eyes traveling over her body from her face, down over her hips all the way to her feet, then back up again. Laila felt like a piece of meat in the butcher’s window. Her skin crawled, and her temper began to rise. If they’d been in Fifth Point, that look would have got him a dagger to the ribs.

  Not here, she reminded herself. You are not in Fifth Point, and this isn’t some alley tough. This is a prince. A prince with a castle.

  He finally stopped examining her body and raised his eyes to meet hers. At least for a moment. They did have a habit of dropping back down to peruse her breasts.

  “I am told you are in search of a husband,” he said with a haughty voice that made her want to take a bath. He reminded her of the lizard eyed man from the alley. The one Flint had so kindly run through the heart with his sword.

  You are a princess, she reminded herself. Do not let them see you falter.

  “And, I am told that you are in search of a wife,” she said with her best princess voice. The one that made it sound like she knew what she was talking about.

  He halted for a moment and stared into her eyes. At last, he seemed to come to some kind of conclusion.

  “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps.”

  The air in the room suddenly became breathable again as everyone relaxed. This was to be a merger of titles, she reminded herself. And that first critical point had come and gone without any embarrassment or family dishonor.

  “Would you like to take a walk with me, Princess?” the short man said as he held out his arm for her.

  Laila gulped, then quickly glanced at both Lady Emily and Flint. The pair looked at her like lost puppies, afraid and excited at the same time.

  Gathering herself, she placed her hand on the Prince’s. It was like resting her hand on a pillow. Not very substantial and as permanent as a breath of air.

  She shot Flint one last glance. The man looked angry for some reason. What had she done now? Had she made some social mistake? Maybe she had said the wrong thing, been to blunt. But, it had worked, hadn’t it? Why was Flint mad at her?

  Chapter Eleven

  Flint watched the pair amble into the crowd of curtsying and bowing sycophants. It was enough to make him want to punch someone. Anyone.

  “No you don’t,” Emily said, as she reached up to take his arm. “It is too late, Flint. The Prince has met her. He will never allow you to take her back.”

  “Who said I wanted to?” he replied through clenched teeth. “This was what she wanted. Well, she should consider herself lucky. We both should.”

  Emily just stood next to him, shaking her head and watching the couple move through the room.

  Flint fought to regain control of the beast rebelling inside of him. He could feel the fire rising and his muscles tensing, preparing for the change.

  No, he couldn’t, it would ruin Laila’s chance. Taking deep breaths, he pushed the beast back down. Pushed his emotions back into the corner where they belonged.

  Sighing to himself. He glanced around the room. Scanning the faces to see if anyone had noticed.

  The party goers were oblivious to how close they had all come to an instant fiery death. Looking off to the far end of the room, he saw that Mr. Gray character, watching Laila with the Prince. The man had a sickly smile that turned Flint’s stomach.

  Mr. Gray looked away from the royal couple and found Flint across the room. They looked at each other for a long moment. They would have continued staring at each other, but Mr. Gray’s attention was pulled away when a man in an ill-fitting set of clothes limped up next to him.

  Flint knew him immediately. The red head from the alley. The man glanced at Flint and quickly looked away. Obviously nervous. The last thing the Red Head wanted was to be seen by Flint again. That explained it. Mr. Gray was Laila’s attacker’s employer. The man who had sent them after her.

  His anger began to build once again. Here was an enemy he could deal with. Here was someone he could pound into the ground.

  He handed Emily his drink without a word and turned to confront Mr. Gray. His beast might not be able to fly tonight. But, Flint could still exact some revenge. These were the men who had wanted to hurt Laila.

  Flint’s heart lurched. At least he could do this for her. Heaven knew she was going to have enough problems with that prince of hers.

  .o0o.

 
; Laila began to breathe a little easier. At least the Prince was intelligent and had some rough charm. Nothing to sweep a girl off her feet. But, she could work with it.

  Smiling for the thousandth time that night, she greeted another couple. Obviously, friends of the Prince. She could feel both of them examining her, looking for some flaw to pick at. Some indiscretion they could report to their friends that would lower her in their eyes.

  Well, to hell with them. They didn’t know how low she had been in this life. They couldn’t ever lower her to that point. Not if she was married to a prince.

  Squeezing the Prince’s arm, she tried to silently let him know that she had had enough of these people and wanted to move on.

  He looked at her for a moment. We are the same height, Laila realized. I will never be able to wear anything with a heel.

  What if he is wearing heels now? she thought with a start. She had heard about such things. Short men did that kind of thing. She had to stop herself from looking down at his shoes. He would know immediately what she was thinking.

  Setting her lips, she waited until the Prince could break away from his friends. They had begun to move further around the room when the Prince said, “Would you like to see the gardens, my dear? I hear the Ambassador had them built according to the Lushcany style.”

  Laila’s heart dropped. Alone? In the gardens with the Prince? She really didn’t have a choice, did she? One wrong move and he’d never marry her. Taking a deep breath, she nodded her head and let him escort her out into the garden. She noticed that both of his big, burly Guardsman followed them out.

  The smells of jasmine, honeysuckle, and lavender greeted her as she stepped through the door. The Embassy garden was rather large, with winding paths and pretty flowers. All of it lit with burning torches and a bright moon.

  “Ah, the night air,” the Prince said, as he took a deep breath. “Come, let us take a walk. It might be nice to spend a moment away from prying eyes.”

  Laila had a sudden wish that her dagger was strapped to her leg.

  No, she thought. Don’t think that way. Not everyone is after something. This was a prince. He could have almost any woman he wanted. He had no need to take. Besides. If they were to be married soon, he would have ample opportunities. No reason for him to force the issue now. Relax, Laila, do not allow your Fifth Point insecurities to destroy things.

  Smiling to the Prince, she said, “That sounds wonderful. I too have heard about these famous gardens. Do you have nice grounds at your castle?”

  The Prince didn’t answer her as his hand reached up to take hers. “This way I think,” he said, as he gently pulled her onto a dark path.

  Every alarm began to go off in Laila’s brain. Why this way? It was too dark to see anything of interest.

  The crunch of gravel let her know that the Guardsman were following them. For some reason, the thought was not reassuring. She was positive in the depths of her soul that she could not rely on these men to protect her.

  No, as always, she had only herself. Well, except for that time in the alley when Flint had saved her. But, other than that, it had been herself and her dagger.

  Of course, her damn dagger was sitting on her dressing table, helping absolutely no one.

  Don’t be silly, Laila, she told herself. But, she couldn’t really believe it when she said it. This man was not to be trusted. Especially in dark, lonely places.

  Pulling back, she said, “Your Highness, it is rather dark. I did want to see the rest of the garden. Or, perhaps, we should return to the party. I am sure our host is wondering at our absence.”

  The Prince scoffed and continued to pull her deeper into the darkness. “To hell with the Ambassador and what he wants. It is what I want that is important.”

  Without warning, the Prince twisted and pulled her into his arms. He immediately locked up both of her hands behind her back and smiled at her. As if asking her what she was going to do about it.

  He wants me to fight, she realized. He wants me to whimper and beg, but first he wants me to fight. That is the pleasure for him. Physically overcoming a woman so he can take what he wants.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the two Guardsmen. Her stomach jumped to her throat. Both of them stood there, watching, ready to help their master at his slightest command.

  “Come, Laila, you can’t expect a prince to marry without a little taste of what he should expect.”

  Bending forward he tried to kiss her. His breath smelled of garlic and old stockings. The kind that had been worn for two weeks.

  Her stomach threatened to rebel. If she had eaten that meal Mrs. Peabody had suggested she eat, she might very well have been sick all over him.

  “Jeffery,” she said, as she twisted away from his lips. “Not here, not like this.”

  “Why?” the Prince said. “I would have thought a whore from Fifth Point would enjoy it.”

  Her mind froze, and her heart sank. He knew. He knew all along. He had been only toying with her, like a cat playing with a mouse.

  How had they failed? What had she done to give herself away? Poor Flint, he would be so disappointed in her.

  “What are you saying?” she asked, as she tried to figure out a way to convince him. He continued to pin her hands behind her back, as if afraid that he let her go she might fly away.

  “You know perfectly well what I am saying. An orphan, mason’s daughter should be intelligent enough to understand.”

  “Your Highness …”

  The man’s eyes grew narrow as he stared at her, the hate behind them building as the seconds ticked by.

  “I am going to take you here in the garden, you whore. Then, I am going to give you to my men here.”

  Laila set her spine, do not let him see you beg, she thought. Never that.

  “And, when they are done,” he continued, “I will give you to the rest of my Guard, waiting at the front of the house. When they are finished, if there is anything left, they will dump you in the fountain at Fifth Point as a warning to any other woman who might be stupid enough to think they can fool their betters.”

  Laila stared back at him, her anger rising. The hate inside of her for every bully she had ever faced or run from. All the nights hiding in the dark terrified that they would find her. Then, Flint. Flint saving her and demanding nothing in return. She had seen a glimpse of something good in this world. And, this royal prince was going to ruin it. He was going to take away her dream.

  Smiling at her, the Prince reached out and squeezed her breast just because he could. The pain and humiliation shot through Laila. The Prince continued to stare into her eyes as if daring her to do anything about it.

  “I will take this,” he said, looking down at the locket around her neck, “as a keepsake for our night together. I am so going to enjoy it.”

  With that, he snatched the locket with the coin, breaking the chain around her neck.

  “No!” Laila screamed. Not Flint’s coin. No, he couldn’t. She twisted and turned until she was able to break free of his grip.

  The Prince smiled at her. Yes, he definitely wanted her to fight back. Laila didn’t care about that, not now. Now, she needed that locket. Everything else could wait.

  Reaching out, she tried to grab it back from him. He swatted her hands away and pushed her to the ground as he laughed.

  Jumping up, she spit in his face.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “Do whatever you want. But, when you are done, remember, you are still a short, little man with a tiny prick. And, nothing you do in this world is ever going to change that.”

  The Prince’s hand slapped her across the face so quickly she didn’t have time to react. The world exploded into a dozen stars. Each twirling around the other. The pain in her jaw flashed through her, making her heart pound and her ears ring.

  “Hold her down,” he said to his Guardsman.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” a voice said from the darkness. Laila’s heart began to beat again. She would know th
at voice for the rest of her life. Flint, the one thing in this world she could rely on.

  The tall Golden Man stepped out of the darkness. He looked down at Laila, his eyes sparking with fire when he saw the bruise on her cheek. Slowly, he pushed the fire away and shook his head.

  “I am sorry, Princess. I should have arrived sooner."

  Laila scrambled to pull her dress into some kind of decency. Flint, he Flint, it was all she could think about. She wanted to melt into his arms. The one place in this world where she felt safe. Then, she remembered what was important.

  “He has the coin,” she said. “My locket.”

  “That isn’t important for the moment,” Flint said. Then, mumbling to himself, he added. “What is it about you that you attract the most obnoxious pipsqueaks?

  “I don’t know,” she said, as she dusted off the back of her dress. “I’m just lucky I guess.”

  “What are you waiting for?” the Prince yelled to his Guardsman. “Get rid of him.”

  Big mistake, Laila thought to herself. Big mistake. Flint might be unarmed, and the Guardsman might have nice, sharp swords. But, there was only two of them. And, this was Flint. Big mistake.

  Flint immediately began to prove her right. Before either of the Guardsmen could remove a weapon from its sheath, Flint jumped forward and punched the larger of the two guards, square in the nose. Not a gentle tap. But a full, powerful punch that made the man’s face erupt in a shower of blood.

  The man immediately forgot his sword and brought both hands to his face. Flint wasn’t watching that. He had already shifted and grabbed the other guards head and brought it forward to meet his in a massive head-butt.

  Just as the first guard was returning to some kind of awareness and once again reaching for his sword, Flint twisted again and brought his foot squarely into the man’s wrist.

  Laila winced at the sound of cracking bone.