Dragon Ensnared: A Viking Dragon Fairy Tale (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 7)

by Isadora Montrose

  He kicked savagely at the stones lying on the trail. One shot into the trunk of a tree and caromed off to splash into the burbling forest stream. Even that gentle gurgling made him cringe. He forced himself to walk over to the bank and confront his anxiety. The spring runoff had made the forest stream swift and cloudy.

  Without warning, a vision struck. The damned or the dead howled. Shift. He swayed on his feet, balance gone, heart shuddering. Enthralled and helpless, fear pounding in his veins, the vision seized his eyes and ears. From the depths of the stream, a maiden with a face as pale as death raised pleading arms like long strands of twining seaweed.

  Her coppery hair floated about a stark white face. Her black eyes opened and closed like a doll’s. He lurched as that soulless gaze captured his. She was naked from the waist up. Her breasts bobbed in the water. Sweetly rounded and tipped with crimson. Her skirts were foamy rags that moved languidly around her long white legs.

  His heart seemed too large for his chest. Or too small. He could scarcely draw a breath. He knew from experience that there was no way to turn either sound or sight off. He had to endure. Gradually the unearthly wailing that accompanied this vision became a woman’s beguiling voice.

  “Save me,” she begged. “Son of Lind, you are my only hope. Rescue me.” It seemed as if her long white arms would drag him beneath the water.

  And then as suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished. The wailing wind became a whispering spring breeze. Jareth was alone on the rocky bank of the stream, standing in a bright ray of sunshine. It was a clear spring morning. The stream was just a stream. Swollen with snow melt. Rippling over mossy rocks. The haunt of kingfishers and herons. Nothing for a dragon to fear.

  To prove he was not truly a coward, Jareth bent over the water, dabbling his fingers in the icy current. There was of course no sign of the woman. Tiny fish swam in a calm pool formed by a fallen branch that blocked the racing current. They nibbled at green weeds. And there on a flat, bare stone, gleaming as if it had fallen from someone’s finger only yesterday, was a ring.

  It was bright gold, set with rounded green stones. Without thinking, Jareth plucked it out of the water. It was heavy in his hand. Holding it settled his blood. Like all dragons, he had the gift of recognizing the age and value of objects by touch. This ring was ancient. The gold and stones genuine.

  He could feel the excitement of the goldsmith who had created it. Sense the weariness of the slave who had dug the emeralds from the earth with a pick. The dedication of the gem polisher who had made them glow. The valor of the warrior who had worn it into battle. He turned it over and over, wondering at the crispness of the engraving on the gold band.

  It was incomparably old, yet every line was as sharp as if it had just left the polishing bench. It warmed on his palm as he admired it. Still it did not belong to him. This island was the property of Theo’s father lord Severn. An object this old was destined for some museum. Or the Lindorm vault. Or his aunt’s hand.

  He slipped the ring into his jacket pocket and turned back to the house. What connection, if any, the ring had with the woman in his hallucination, he could not guess. Probably none. His visions never meant anything. But he had no intention of letting either Lexi or Theo guess that he was going crazy.

  * Dragon’s Christmas Captive

  CHAPTER THREE

  Iliana~

  It was warm here inside the dragon’s clothing. Stuffy, but warm. Mind, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to keep this fellow after all. Despite his cheerful whistling, on closer inspection, he seemed moody and dour. A brooder, not a doer. He had looked appalled rather than enthralled as she floated in the water displaying her charms for him.

  She was beautiful. She knew she was. All nixies were beautiful. Besides, through all the long years since Rán had created her, she had had endless opportunities to gaze at her face and form. Every calm stretch of water told her that her hair was a mass of rich and coppery red curls. Her lustrous black eyes fringed with long lashes. Her rosy lips plump, and her breasts abundant.

  But this dragon had looked at her as if she were the newly risen dead. He had not plunged into the water to rescue her. It had taken the lure of gold to rouse him to action. Just her luck. Instead of a decisive, warm-hearted fellow like Theo, she had netted a lily-livered shirker. Curses. At least he had not put her ring on. She could still change her mind.

  Iliana curled up in the dragon’s warm pocket next to her ring and drifted into a pleasant daydream of holding her own curly top to her breasts. The smooth rhythm of the dragon’s stride lulled her to sleep. She roused when a hand rummaged around in the pocket.

  Fingers ignored the jumble of keys and brushed against Iliana. Lightning struck. The touch of this dragon’s flesh was wonderful and terrifying. Iliana made herself as small as possible. Long fingers pinched the ring and pulled it out. She came with it. Jareth was inside Lexi’s warm house in front of the coat closet.

  His hand went into another pocket, tighter than the first. His breeches’ pocket. Iliana landed on a scattering of coins. She made herself as comfortable as she could on that inhospitable surface and waited. Her dragon hung up his coat and walked away. Would he take her to his room? It would be easiest to seduce him there.

  He closed a door behind him and spoke. His voice was pleasant and vibrated through her entire body. Was that good or bad? She was the one supposed to be luring him. Not the other way around. She had best be careful.

  “I found a ring in your stream,” her dragon said.

  “Did you?” murmured an even deeper voice. Theodor Lindorm.

  Her dragon rummaged around in his breeches’ pocket. He knocked Iliana into the coins. She struggled upright and rubbed her bruises. And let him take the ring without her. “Yes. I thought you and your father would want a look at it.”

  “Thank you, Jareth.” There was momentary silence. “You found this in the forest stream? In this condition?”

  So her dragon was named Jareth. Jareth Lindorm. A fine, high-sounding name.

  “Yes, Theo. Just as you see it. Shining. Almost new-minted. It has astounding preservation. Or it was just recently lost.”

  “Why bring it to me?” Theo asked.

  “It’s your property. At least, I found it on Severn island. Is it perhaps your mother’s?”

  “If it is Mamma’s, I’ve never seen her wear it. It might be Lexi’s,” Theo said doubtfully. “We’ll show it to her in a minute.”

  “It ought to be in a museum,” Jareth said earnestly.

  “Papa and I won’t have a bunch of archaeologists messing around on Severn Island, Jareth. We prefer to keep our secrets. Mind, this ring is undoubtedly ancient. Forged by some medieval goldsmith, using stones that were older still. Unless Lexi has misplaced an heirloom, I would say that it is not chance that brought it to your hand.”

  “No?” Jareth said doubtfully.

  Something buffeted her dragon for he moved violently. Again Iliana bounced hard onto the coins at the bottom of Jareth’s pocket. At this rate she would be black and blue. Not a good look for a seductress. She hoped these dragons were not fighting. Because Jareth would be on the losing end of any battle with the taller and broader Theo.

  But Theodor Lindorm’s booming voice was jovial. “You’re on the brink of declaring your mate hunt, Jareth. I’d say this ring is intended for your beloved’s hand.”

  “Oh.”

  “You show it to Lexi, and if she denies it, as I suspect she will, you keep it safe for your bride. Sealing your betrothal with a magic ring will bring you luck.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Of course I’m sure. Aren’t you excited at the prospect of your declaration?”

  “I am.” Jareth didn’t sound excited. He sounded terrified. She felt and heard him gulp. “Thank you for agreeing to help me dress for the ceremony.”

  “It will be a pleasure. I’m looking forward to it. I assisted my brother, you know, so I’ve already done it once. I’ve figured o
ut how all the bits of the costume go together.” Theo chuckled. “Wait until you see all those robes and chains. Victor did nothing but moan.” Victor was Theo’s married brother*. Iliana had known him from the cradle.

  “I know we have to wear medieval dress,” Jareth said. “The guys say we will look more than a little gaudy and overdressed.”

  “Yup. It’s traditional. And no House has gaudier robes or more baubles than the House of Lindorm. Come, Jareth, we must drink to your bride. Declaring your Mate Hunt is a great event in a dragon’s life.”

  Jareth sat down. His pocket rattled around as he adjusted his breeches. Since she was now in danger of being squashed flat, Iliana crept out and found herself a perch on the back of Jareth’s chair. She gazed around her in wonder.

  She was in a huge room she had not seen before. A fire blazed on a hearth even larger than the one in Lexi’s boudoir. Long windows looked out over the rolling sea and kept the wind and weather out. The wind whipped the sea into whitecaps, but inside it was warm and dry and safe. Well, except for the presence of these dragons.

  As usual, Theo Lindorm was disheveled. His long yellow hair was caught up in a ragged bun anchored by a sharp dirk. His beard curled like a living thing. He was as broad shouldered and blue-eyed as the wild Norsemen who had sailed longboats on her seas. A berserker come to life.

  Lexi’s mate was a tall, formidable dragon. Beside him, Jareth looked like a pale, inferior copy of this powerhouse. His shining beauty somehow tame. Just her usual bad luck. Theo poured clear liquid from a glass flask into a tiny transparent vessel. A sharp and delicious smell perfumed the room.

  “Thank you.” Jareth waited while Theo filled his own little goblet.

  “To your fated mate, whoever and wherever she may be. May she bring you great happiness.” Theo emptied his goblet.

  “To my fated mate,” responded Jareth. He too drank. He gulped, coughed and cleared his throat. He set his goblet down on the table at his elbow. “What do you know about Angela Fenwick?”

  Theo refilled the goblets. His blue eyes twinkled and his beard waggled as he grinned broadly. “Lady Drake’s niece? Pretty girl, very English, loves horses?”

  “That’s her,” Jareth sipped from his goblet and replaced it. “Angela has been to Aunt Inge’s house party for the last three years. But she hasn’t accepted anyone yet.”

  There was a reverent hush in Jareth’s voice that made Iliana long to have a trident like the one Lexi had carried before her marriage. If ever a male would benefit from a good prod, this one would. Unfortunately, nixies could not conjure weaponry.

  She crept down the arm of the chair and tasted his drink. It burned her throat and a delicious warmth spread all through her limbs. She took another larger sip and climbed back up to Jareth’s shoulder.

  Theo chuckled indulgently. “Don’t choose with your eyes, Cousin. You wait until you’ve had some conversation with Angela.”

  Jareth joined in Theo’s laughter. “I sat beside her at dinner twice last year,” he said shyly. “We spoke.”

  “And what did you talk about?”

  “Horses. She does dressage.” There was that reverent hush again. Iliana slid down the back of the chair, leaned over and pinched Jareth’s neck as hard as she could. He didn’t even notice. Drat the dragon. She rested on his shoulder. That potion had made her feel warm but dizzy.

  Anyway, whatever was dressage? Dressing horses? That made no sense. Unless he meant this Angela bedecked her horses in fancy saddles and caparisons. She remembered mock battles when warriors competed, riding horses draped in cloth of gold.

  The only other horses Iliana knew of were seahorses and the white waves of Rán’s husband, the sea god Aegir. Neither kind would be improved by clothing – even if you could get them to wear it.

  “Lady Drake told me last year that Angela hopes to be accepted to veterinary school,” Theo said thoughtfully. “That might mean you could not be married for years and years.”

  “If she is my fate, I will have to possess my soul in patience,” replied Jareth solemnly.

  “That’s the right attitude.” Theo raised his goblet. “To the swift success of your hunt.” He stood up.

  Jareth rose too. Iliana slid from his shoulder, down his chest, and into the pocket over his heart. That was better. And the steady thump was comforting, even if he was in love with another female. Oh, for Lexi’s trident!

  Theo gave Jareth’s back the smack he so richly deserved. Again Jareth wobbled like an boat on rough water. So did Iliana, which was unfair. She wasn’t the one in love with the wrong person. Her head spun and throbbed.

  “Here’s Lexi now,” Theo said. His voice warmed and softened.

  Iliana made herself yet smaller. Lexi was eagle-eyed. She hoped she wasn’t bulging Jareth’s chest pocket. Lexi must not know she was wooing Jareth until he was won.

  Lexi’s entrance was accompanied by the merry babbling of an infant. “Here,” she said. “You take your daughter, Theo. All Sofie wants to do today is eat.”

  Drawn by the baby’s happy noise, Iliana peeped out of Jareth’s pocket. Baby Sofie found her papa’s beard and tugged it mightily. He removed her chubby fist, and tucked her securely into the crook of his arm. He tickled her sweet little belly.

  Sofie shrieked happily. Theo chuckled and tickled her again. Iliana suppressed a sob. Lucky Lexi with such a husband and baby.

  Jareth held out the ring on his palm. “Is this yours, Lexi?” he asked diffidently.

  Lexi peered at it. She glanced around the room, green eyes narrowing. “Where did you get that?” Her normally lyrical voice sounded sharp.

  Iliana’s heart sank to her toes. She ducked back into Jareth’s pocket and held her breath.

  Jareth looked worried. “I found it in the stream in your forest.”

  “Did you try it on?”

  “It’s a little small.”

  “It’s a magic ring, Jareth. Don’t make the attempt,” Lexi warned. “If I were you, I would put that evil thing in a locked box and leave it there.”

  “I guess that means it isn’t yours?” Theo said.

  “It is not.” said Lexi in the same sharp voice. “It’s full of wicked enchantments.”

  “Theo thought it might be intended for my fated mate’s hand,” Jareth said uncertainly.

  “I suppose it might be.” Her voice expressed nothing but doubt. “It’s not a thing to leave carelessly around to tempt a child. Or to offer some innocent maiden.”

  “Since you are the elven princess, and the expert on magic rings, I will do as you suggest, Lexi.” Jareth returned the ring to his breech’s pocket.

  Drat Lexi. She did not have to make Iliana’s ring sound worse than it was. She had infused it with just the tiniest of spells. A spell that would have no effect on a maiden or a child. A mere love charm designed to ensorcell a warrior.

  “Do you need a lock box, Jareth?” asked Theo.

  “No thank you. I have a casket with me. I wonder you don’t tell me to put it back where I found it, Lexi.”

  “So it can ensnare someone else? No. It should be locked away where it can do no harm.”

  Harm! Why should it harm Jareth to have a wife? Iliana would be a good wife. Probably.

  “When you have it secure, Jareth, it can go in my vault where it will be safe from childish fingers.” Theo handed Lexi the baby. The two men left the warm room.

  Iliana was carried out in Jareth’s pocket. She hoped she would be able to have a nap and rest her aching head.

  *Dragon’s Confession

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Iliana~

  She heaved a thankful sigh as Jareth closed the door. but Lexi’s voice spoke softly. “Iliana, I command your presence.”

  Iliana had no choice. She was pledged to serve the princess. She materialized before Lexi and curtsied.

  “Is this how you appear in my house?” Lexi covered Sofie’s eyes.

  Iliana glanced down. She had forgotten to change her garments. He
r bare bosom had offended the princess. “Pardon,” she cried. She dressed herself head to toe in a high-necked, long-sleeved gown of drabbest green.

  Despite her modest clothing, Lexi eyed her severely. “What snare are you laying for that boy?”

  Even if she had not been dizzy, Iliana would not have lied to the princess. “I thought he might make a suitable husband,” she confessed.

  “He is not for you, Nixie.”

  “But why? He is looking for a wife. I heard him say so myself. Why should she not be me?” She would be at least as good a wife as Lexi. Being a wife didn’t look hard in the least. And being a mother, while harder, had many pleasures.

  “Why should I permit my kinsman to marry a water sprite who has sucked countless sailors into a watery grave?” demanded Lexi as the baby tugged at her bodice. Lexi set Sofie to her breast. The soothing sound of the infant’s suckling filled the air.

  “I served the goddess Rán,” Iliana excused herself. “I drowned no sailors. Men say that great Rán snatches men from their vessels, but truly she only receives those who have capsized or were thrown overboard. Or those dead in battle. I never saw her drown a single man.”

  It was so unfair. No one ever blamed the Valkyries who carried fallen warriors to Valhalla. No, they were noble and virtuous females who assisted heroes to glory after they had died in battle. But Rán, who delivered drowned sailors to Valhalla or to Hel, was accused of slaughtering them.

  “So you say, Iliana. I have heard differently.” Lexi remained stern. “Tell me why you want this dragon?”

  Iliana looked around the comfortable room. It was large and yet cozy. The fire crackled merrily between two tall bookcases. The room smelled wonderful and it was warm. Lexi was wearing the prettiest pale blue dress of softest velvet. She held the sweet Sofie. Lexi radiated contentment. How to explain that Iliana yearned for that joy?