Her gaze locked with his, and she smoothed her hands down her dress until her fingers caught on the hem, then slowly lifted it over her head. Alexander inhaled sharply through his teeth. Maiara was perfection in human form. The light seemed to cling to her amber skin, her full, graceful breasts, each ending in dusky peaks. Her waist stretched long and trim below those glorious mounds with a shadowy oval navel he longed to explore. The rounded muscles of her hips and thighs teased pleasures unknown before his gaze fell on the dark patch at the juncture of her thighs. He feared his body’s immediate reaction might tear his breeches.
“I am cold,” she said. “Won’t you lend me your warmth?”
He couldn’t move. Pure joy cut through his flesh and pinned him in place. Part of him was afraid one wrong move might alter this blissful reality, wake him from this perfect dream. Bless the Mountain, his dragon rose to the occasion. Urged on by the beast within, he slowly spread his wings and, with one flap that made the fire dance, crossed to her and took her into his arms.
With one hand in the small of her back and the other threaded in the hair at the base of her skull, he brushed his mouth over hers. “I prayed you’d invite me in.”
“I am afraid. Everyone I love dies, Alexander. I am a Midew, gifted with the power of the Great Spirit to heal, but I could not save my mother or my father. I cannot heal my own heart.” Her eyes glistened in the firelight.
“Then leave that to me.” His lips met hers in a passionate kiss that traveled through his dragon, all the way to his soul.
Maiara had never felt anything like this kiss. He kissed her with a force and passion she hadn’t thought existed in the real world. A rumble sounded deep in his chest, like the purr of a mountain cat, and she placed her hands upon his shirt and delighted in the vibration.
“The sound of you pleases me,” she said.
“My mating trill. It comes with the wings.”
Her fingers trailed to his breeches, tugging his shirttails out of their grip. “I want to feel it.” She lifted the shirt over his head, over his wings. He kicked off his boots and helped her with the rest of his clothing.
The rumble came again, and a tingle of desire traveled the length of her skin. His manhood pressed long and thick into her lower belly. She tipped her hips and ground against him, longing for more. Aching for him and him alone.
She’d played with boys before. Not in the ways that invited babies, but in ways that brought pleasure. Alexander was far more impressive in every respect, and a thousand butterflies fluttered against the underside of her skin. She wanted him. She needed him.
His hands coasted down her back as his mouth explored hers with long, deep strokes that stole her breath but made her long to suffocate under such torture. He tasted of mint and smelled of smoke, fresh cut wood, and clover. She wanted to cover herself in that scent, roll in it like an animal frolicking in springtime grasses.
His hands moved lower, massaging her ribs, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. She stroked down his chest and under his arms, along the inside of his wings. His body twitched against her and he closed his eyes, lowering his forehead to her shoulder.
“This feels good?” she whispered, and he nodded into the crook of her neck. She kept going, alternating between tickling the underside with her nails and stroking his wing with her palm. The rumbling purr increased in intensity.
His lips worked over her collarbone and trailed kisses lower until he suckled her right breast. Her nipple hardened and extended against his tongue, and lightning branched inside her. She’d never known this magic. He stirred music deep within her, a song to her heart and her head, like the sound of a breeze through the prairie grass. She needed more.
Taking his hand, she guided it between her legs and tipped her head back when his fingers began to move. Yes, that was it. It took friction to kindle fire. Her fingers dug in his hair and she kissed him on the mouth, long and hard, their tongues dancing to this savage beat. The music in her body grew louder, humming against his fingers, the fire he kindled racing through her blood.
And then magic burst through her, bowing her back and drawing a cry from deep within. He cradled her limp body through the surge of power. Magic. This was magic.
His hand hooked around her thigh and he lifted her, his wings spreading to keep his balance, filling the teepee. He pressed against her, spearing the pleasure forward. Arms braced on his shoulders, she worked her body around him, easing him inside her until he filled her completely.
“Say you are mine,” he whispered in her ear.
“I am yours.”
He thrust into her. “And I am yours.” His beard and nose brushed the side of her face. His lips found her ear.
He made love to her for a small eternity, until her mind knew nothing but the feel of him, the sweat on her skin, the rhythm of their love dance. Until finally the magic rose within her once more. She rode him harder, moving her hips to that music once again. Building, building, like a mighty gale before the storm. The clouds broke. The rain poured down. His release echoed through her, found her own, and galloped off together, hoof beats thundering in her blood. Finally he sank to his knees on the furs and lowered her gently onto her back.
Once he’d helped her between the furs and tucked her into his side, he whispered to her, “Ndukweyum.” My wife, in her language.
She touched her forehead to his. “DIneym, my husband. I will ask the chief to bless this union when the sun rises.”
He pressed his lips to her temple. “And what shall we do until the sun rises?” The smile he gave her shone in the darkness, lit only by the embers of the dying fire.
She trailed her fingers down the length of his body and showed him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The chief blessed their union the next morning, and from that day forward Alexander slept in Maiara’s nsoe’gen. Gabriel and Tobias enjoyed the extra space and were happy for Alexander, although they never stopped teasing him about being owned by his human mate.
Indeed, Alexander denied Maiara nothing. If she wanted water, he fetched it. He brought her and the rest of the village elk and bison from the prairie below, as much as they could eat. And he watched over all of them every night, although he never saw the wendigo. He began to believe it had lost her scent along their journey and that the danger had passed.
Gabriel said the village had become Alexander’s treasure. He could not argue with that. Maiara was more precious to him than an entire mountain of jewels.
One day the snow began to melt and purple crocuses popped their heads up through the earth to bask in the sun after a long winter’s sleep. Bears woke from their slumber and were seen close to the village, and the chief said it was time to descend from the protection of the hills to the prairie and lake basin where they would join with other Potawatomi bands in their regular territory.
There was never any doubt that Alexander would stay with the tribe, stay with Maiara, but it soon became apparent that they’d tempted fate long enough and Tobias and Gabriel needed to move on. At Alexander’s request, Maiara prayed to the Great Spirit for guidance.
While the three dragons prayed, she tossed a powder made from blood and herbs into their fire and studied the smoke as it rose and curled above their heads. That night, she had a dream that sent her tossing and turning in his arms. When she woke, she said she had the answer.
“You will be a Midew,” Maiara said to Tobias. “A healer. You have the gift. All of the Midewiwin are gone. There is a great need. Another tribe lives at the mouth of the Checagou River. It is many miles from us, far enough I think to be safe for you, but your skills will be valued there.”
Tobias raised an eyebrow but nodded slowly. “A healer. Yes, I think I’d like that. I’ve enjoyed learning from you, Maiara. We will rebuild the Midewiwin society, in time.”
She smiled and gave him a curt nod. “The Great Spirit will guide you.”
“And what of me?” Gabriel asked moodily. “Did the smoke s
how you what to do with the nonhealer?”
Maiara turned to face him head-on as she had always done with Gabriel. “A healer you are not, but I know where you belong. A warrior must go where a warrior is needed.”
“And that is?”
“I have seen you far away in the place where the Great River empties into the sea. It is always warm in this place, and the land holds unmatched beauty. But it is also dangerous. Great beasts with sharp teeth and thick skin guard its gates. Most men will perish in its wilds, but you will not. With your abilities, you will claim a land for yourself and find a place to exercise your magic.”
“You see this?”
She nodded knowingly. “Magic will be extremely important to you one day, and this strange place will foster it in you.”
Gabriel seemed to like the idea. He straightened and said, “Very well. Take me to this river. I will follow it to this land of beasts and magic.”
And so, after a feast where the Potawatomi said their goodbyes and thanked them for their protection and their gifts of meat and healing, they loaded up their horses, and Maiara led them from the first real home they’d known in the New World.
They were on their third day of travel when they found the deer. It had been mauled almost beyond recognition, its flesh hanging in strips from its bones.
“Is this the work of the wendigo?” Tobias asked. Alexander held his breath, afraid if he spoke the name it would appear.
“A bear, I think,” Maiara said, inspecting the carcass. “Wendigo would not leave so much flesh behind.”
Still, as they progressed, Alexander was on high alert, barely sleeping at night and waking at the slightest sound. He was relieved when they reached the small band of Potawatomi people on the bank of the Checagou River. Once Maiara introduced herself, they welcomed them in and gave them a place to stay.
“This feels right,” Tobias said, leaning back in his bed of furs. All of them had to share a single wigwam out of necessity, but it didn’t matter. It was only for one night.
Beside Maiara, Alexander stared into the fire to the sound of his brothers’ voices, speaking of hope and new dragon kingdoms. The fatigue from their travels weighed heavily on him, and their voices faded, sleep pulling him under until he sank into total blackness.
He woke to screams. Maiara pulled on his arm and yelled something in her language he couldn’t understand. Not because he didn’t know her language but because she spoke gibberish, parts of words and half thoughts from a panicked soul. She grabbed her knife and rushed from the wigwam. Alexander followed her, not bothering to dress or with shoes. Blood-curdling cries sliced through the night, urgent calls for help.
Gabriel was already outside. “The wendigo,” he yelled, pointing to the place in the distance where a pale, lipless figure, more bone, teeth, and claws than flesh, held the body of one of the female elders. Who, he could not tell. The wendigo had eaten too much of her.
“We’re surrounded. The Mohawk are here!” Maiara turned in a circle, raising her knife.
Gabriel’s eyes flared red in the darkness. “I’ll take the right flank. Tobias, the left. Alexander, the wendigo is yours.”
“My pleasure.” Alexander shifted quickly. His wings punched violently from his back, and his spine stretched and lengthened to a barbed tail. His turquoise heart cast a soft blue glow across the dirt. He glanced back at Maiara. She bared her teeth, then pointed her chin sharply at the wendigo.
Ziiip. An arrow coursed through the air and bounced off his scales. He swung his horned head in the direction of the sound and spotted his attacker, a Mohawk male with his bow still raised. With one mighty leap and a snap of his jaws, he tore the warrior’s head off and sent it rolling toward the fire. Gabriel’s dragon roared his approval. One dead, at least a hundred to go.
The wendigo dropped the body it was holding and roared. Alexander rushed the beast. The man-shaped thing was tall, maybe seven feet, and skeletal, but as Alexander attempted to bite it in two, its claws rose up and dug between his scales. He yelped, drew back. What was this creature? He’d never encountered anything in this world with this type of strength, agility, or with sharp enough claws to pierce a dragon’s hide. But then the wendigo was supernatural, the spawn of demon magic.
Alexander’s gaze caught on the blue orb shining from the beast’s chest. It winked at him in the twilight as if it were alive, an all-seeing eye from the beyond. He could feel magic rolling off it. Was this the source of the wendigo’s power?
Again the monster attacked, spreading its jaws wide and swiping its claws toward Alexander. He snapped again. This time his teeth sank into the thing’s shoulder, but the wendigo was unaffected. It buried its claws in Alexander’s neck and tore itself free. Its flesh and bones knitted back together in an unnerving tangle of blood and gristle.
He shuffled away and spat the thing’s blood from his mouth. His wounds would heal quickly enough, but if he couldn’t tear it apart, how was he to kill it?
In Paragon, many creatures were immortal. Many had magic. But one universal weakness burdened them all. Aside from dragons, everything burned.
With a deep breath that ignited the flames inside him, he prepared to blast the wendigo with the hottest dragon fire he could produce. But the monster had other ideas. It raced into the woods. Alexander couldn’t incinerate the thing without potentially starting the entire forest on fire. He had no other choice but to pursue it on foot. From the air, he might lose the trail.
At a full run, he weaved between the trees. The wendigo was fast and agile, leaping like some malformed stag over anything in its way. He poured on the speed, using his size and strength to plow through the foliage.
He gained on the monster from behind, stretching his neck and snapping within inches of the beast’s gray flesh. That wouldn’t do. He needed to use his fire. Coiling and striking, he drove the wendigo north to where the forest ended at a wall of sandstone, the side of one of the hills that bordered the area. The wendigo banked right, but the hesitation was enough to give Alexander a window of opportunity. With a deep breath, he showered the side of the mountain and the wendigo in dragon’s fire.
A dragon’s blast burned hotter than any earthly fire. It blew with an intensity that gouged the earth and scorched the stone. Still, the creature tried to run again for the shelter of the woods, its limbs ablaze. Alexander knocked it back against the stone with one mighty paw.
Its skin burned away and then muscle and connective tissue. When its skeleton collapsed in a heap, nothing but a steaming torso remained. Powered by some infernal force, it attempted to drag itself away from him with its one remaining arm, jaw working in a silent, burning scream.
He brought his foot down on its head and crushed its skull into a fine powder. Once it was clear the wendigo was no more, Alexander noticed again the wink of the blue orb through the bones and ash that had once been its ribs. A flood of memories came back to him.
He shifted into his human form and retrieved the orb from the remains. Now that it was in his hand, he knew for certain. This was Paragonian! It glowed intensely, brighter blue than it had been around the wendigo’s neck. He scowled. That was not a good sign.
Quickly he placed the orb on a flat rock at the base of the cliff and brought another stone down upon it with as much strength as he could muster. The crystal shattered and the blue light faded from its pieces. Definitely enchanted. But by whom and for what reason, he could only guess. If Brynhoff was behind this, they were in terrible danger.
Shifting back into his dragon form, Alexander took to the air and returned to the village. If the wendigo had a connection to Paragon, he had to warn Gabriel.
Chapter Twenty-Four
By the time Alexander returned to the village, his brothers’ accomplishments could be measured by the dozens of steaming corpses to the north and south. The entire tribe had armed themselves, their best warriors circling the women and children. Gabriel and Tobias had kept them all safe.
While his brother
s finished off the attackers on the perimeter, Alexander searched for any continued threat from the air. All seemed well. But where was Maiara?
He landed and shifted into his human form, striding toward the chief. He didn’t bother to cover his nakedness. “Where is my wife?” he asked in their language.
The men and women of the tribe looked at each other, searching for Maiara among themselves. A growing panic formed in the pit of Alexander’s belly. Why had the wendigo run? The soulless beast had sharp claws and teeth and an insatiable appetite. It did not know fear. He’d thought it was avoiding his dragon’s fire, but now he wondered. Had it meant to draw him into the woods? Draw him out? Away from her?
“Where is my wife?” he bellowed. Frantically he searched their wigwam, then turned in a circle at the center of the village.
Gabriel’s fierce roar drew his attention east. In the distance, he saw a Mohawk warrior racing into the shelter of the woods. There was someone in his arms, wrapped in a blanket. Maiara. He shifted so fast it was painful and rocketed to Gabriel’s side, coasting over the woods and the trail where the Mohawk warrior rode his horse at breakneck speed.
The thick forest kept them from landing and intercepting the rider. If they muscled through the towering trees, the falling timber could kill her. Dropping low, their shadows loomed over the kidnapper. His horse was tiring. He’d have to stop soon, and when he did, Alexander would end him and take Maiara back.
The Indian galloped into a clearing on the side of the hill where two other Mohawk warriors waited. Alexander’s heart clenched. Did he plan to hand her off to a new rider? Not on his life.
He overshot the Mohawk men and landed at the far end of the clearing. Although they shot arrows at him with expert aim, the weapons bounced harmlessly off his scales. Gabriel landed on the other end of the trail and made himself invisible. They had nowhere to go.
The Dragon of Sedona Page 15