The Dragon Queen's Fake Fiancé

by Mina Carter

  Now, though, she felt every muscle in his powerful body as he pulled her against him, nestling her against the harder lines and angles of his body. She fit perfectly, as though she’d been made to be there.

  She stole glances up at him as they danced. She’d been watching him out of the corner of her eye all evening. He really was very handsome, but not in the pretty boy way a lot of the younger men at court were. Instead, his was a hard-bitten look, a dangerous aura wrapping around him.

  Even if she hadn’t known he was a black, it would have been easy to guess. There was an edge about him. A darkness that said he was dangerous under all the court finery. Rough. Raw. Ruthless… she shivered again, heat surging through her. He wouldn’t treat her like glass, regardless of who she was…

  “Fuck’s sake, Cadie,” he muttered through gritted teeth, smile still in place for anyone watching. His thigh pressed between hers as they reached the edge of the dance floor and he effortlessly whirled her around before they set off the other way. “Smile, would you? You’re meant to be in love with me but you look utterly terrified.”

  “I’m not scared of you,” she shot back immediately. She was Cadeyra the White. She wasn’t scared of anyone. “Why would I be scared of you?”

  “Perhaps you’re scared of what’s between us then?” he asked, his hand on her waist sliding down a little lower. Her entire body, all her attention, was focused on the path of his hand. He wouldn’t cup her ass would he… not here in public?

  “Between us?” She couldn’t resist needling him. Especially not after he’d given orders and decided he would be her fiancé. “What… you mean a fake engagement I’m not allowed to ask your reasons for insisting on… no, demanding?”

  His expression tightened. The slight flare of his nostrils were the only warning she got as he turned her suddenly. Not expecting it, she squeaked and clung to his shoulders as he whirled them out of the ballroom. Using a broad shoulder, he pushed open one of the little doors concealed behind the drapes that lined the walls of the ballroom like sentinels.

  The heat and music of the revelries gave way to the cool darkness of the service corridors. Before she could react, though, Sawyer shoved her backward, pushing her back up against the cool stone wall. His big body pressed urgently against hers as he grabbed her wrists to haul her hands above her head, pinning them there.

  “I told you not to ask why,” he breathed against her ear. “But you couldn’t leave it, could you, bug?

  His voice was soft but with a dangerous edge that made her melt against him. She didn’t feel threatened. It wasn’t a physical kind of danger he radiated, not at the moment, but a very… sexual one.

  “And? What of it?” she found the courage to whisper back, holding her breath in case he backed away again and shut her out as he had been since that kiss in the corridor.

  He pulled back to look down at her, his eyes glittering darkly in the dim light. Black. His eyes were as black as his dragon, a warning he was close to the edge of his control.

  “Carry on like that and, queen or not, I might have to teach you a lesson.”

  The hitch in her breathing gave her away, and the corner of his lip quirked up for a split-second. Heat simmered through her, his no-nonsense manner thrilling her. All her life people had leapt to do her bidding. Any request, any need she’d had, anything she’d wanted… all there immediately. That he wasn’t like that filled a need inside her she hadn’t realized was there. Even when she gave orders, she was never entirely sure he’d obey her… and that turned her on far more than it should.

  “Really now?” she threw back in challenge. “And just how do you plan to do that?”

  He didn’t answer, not in words anyway. Instead, he bent his head and lowered his mouth to cover hers. Her eyes fluttered closed as it did, the softest of moans in the back of her throat as he feathered a kiss over her lips. Back and forth, with a softness she hadn’t anticipated from a man with such a dangerous reputation… Then her lips parted on a soft sigh, her tongue darting out to flick against his lips, and it all changed.

  With a growl, he tightened his grip on her wrists and deepened the kiss. Heat licked through her as his tongue pushed into her mouth, finding and dueling with hers. Demanding and getting a reaction as she gasped again, giving him what he wanted… anything as long as he kept kissing her with the desperate passion he was right now.

  Their kisses became hot and open-mouthed as she whimpered and writhed, pressing against him as she slid her tongue along his. He growled in the back of his throat again, letting go of her wrists to pull at her skirts and yanking them up to grab her thigh and haul it up. His callused palm cupped her ass, sliding over the rounded globe. Her breathing caught in her throat, pussy clenching in anticipation…

  A door banging farther down the corridor made them both jump, and Sawyer leapt away from her like he’d been burned.

  “Fuck!” he burst out, agitation written into every line of his body as he shoved a big hand through his hair, sending the short spikes haywire. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Shit…”

  “Don’t be.” Cadie straightened up, calling on all her training for the throne to ignore the flush on her cheeks as she put her skirts right. “We’re both consenting adults with no attachments. Why shouldn’t we enjoy what time we have together?”

  His expression shuttered, a dark look in his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest.

  “No. We won’t be doing that.”

  She blinked, the sting of rejection rolling through her. “Why not?” she couldn’t help asking, wincing at the hurt tone in her voice. A tone she’d have done anything to take back.

  He stepped forward, planting a hand on the wall over her head to look deeply into her eyes. “Because if I get you into my bed, little bug, I don’t plan on letting you go. Ever.”

  Prince Henrick was an ass.

  Seated at the banquet table the next evening, with Sawyer on one side and their guest of honor on the other, Cadie managed to hide her distaste as he cracked yet another tasteless joke. This time it was about the boobs of the matron seated a few chairs down opposite. The prince made groping motions in the air toward the unfortunate woman. If the table hadn’t been in the way, she was fairly sure he’d have grabbed a handful.

  Cadie slid a glance sideways as Henrick laughed loudly, catching Sawyer’s eye as she reached for her water glass.

  “Pretty household staff you have here, Your Majesty.” Henrick had gotten over his amusement as one of the waitresses filled his wine goblet, eyeing her with lust. “Gives me a good mind to bend some of them over and give them a good seeing to.”

  Cadie blinked at the bold statement. Taking a sip, she put the glass back down carefully.

  “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  Her voice was calm and considered, not betraying her surprise. What about that comment did the prince think was appropriate for the current company?

  “I was just saying… very pretty staff.” Henrick’s voice seemed to get louder the more he drank. “But they all need a good seeing to every now and then… to get the best out of them, you understand? Reminds them of their place. Of course, I only deal with the pretty ones. The rest, the ugly, fat or old ones I have my guards or my valet see to. Regular attention keeps a female from becoming hysterical. Wouldn’t you agree, General?” He leaned in and winked to Sawyer.

  The look in Sawyer’s eyes and the set of his jaw told her everything she needed to know. Sawyer liked Henrick possibly even less than she did, and the stupid man was just too dense to see the fury simmering beneath the big black’s polite facade.

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t know anything about that, Your Highness,” Sawyer replied smoothly before Cadie could say anything. “In my experience women tend to suffer less from hysteria than most men, and are infinitely more sensible at times.”

  “Yes… well,” Henrick blustered, shooting a glance at Cadeyra. “Present company excepted, of course. I’m talking about comm
oner women, obviously. Poor things are addle-brained at birth.”

  Cadeyra only just stopped her eyebrow from winging up. “I fail to see what difference a person’s birth makes to their intelligence levels. Recent events have proved that those of noble blood are just as likely to be lacking in wits as those not.”

  The corner of Sawyer’s lip quirked at her words and she knew he’d gotten the subtle jibe. Unfortunately, it seemed to go completely over Henrick’s head. Instead, the prince smiled benignly at her.

  “Of course, my dear, there are always exceptions in any demographic. But that’s not something you need to worry your pretty little head about. Such statistics and their import are best left to those who understand the nuances of such things.”

  At that, even Cadeyra’s dragon blinked in surprise. No, shock, that he would speak to her in such a manner. But he wasn’t done yet, completely missing the fact that everyone at the table had gone stock-still waiting for Cadeyra’s reply to the insult, and continued talking.

  “Yes… I should imagine you’re looking forward to getting married and not having to worry about all this bothersome ruling business, eh? And quite rightly so, women shouldn’t have to be burdened with the trials and pressures of leadership but should concentrate on the important things in life, like their husbands or child-rearing.”

  Cadeyra blinked slowly, the fury within her burning hotter and brighter by the second. That this jumped up, second rate princeling-brat thought he could come into her court and tell her something like that… she should roast him alive on the spot. Sawyer’s hand covered hers on the table, the big general giving her a small shake of his head. It was as taciturn a warning as she’d ever received but she got the message. Their engagement was all to avoid a diplomatic incident and would be pointless if she roasted the prince in front of everyone instead.

  “Thank you, Prince Henrick, for enlightening us with your opinion on the matter,” she said, her clipped voice an indicator for anyone who knew her that she was pissed off. Putting her napkin down, she made a show of smoothing her skirts before standing. Getting the hint, the guests around the table all stood, leaving Henrick seated, his mouth gaping like a guppy’s as he hurried to catch up.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d like to follow me… the Council of Twelve have arranged a demonstration for us.”

  Delighted chatter filled the room as Cadeyra swept from it, Sawyer at her heels.

  “The twelve have arranged no such thing,” he murmured softly, as he held out his arm for her to take. “What are you playing at, Cadie?”

  The sound of her name in his deep tones eased her anger somewhat as they swept into her throne room. The place was magnificent, with high-vaulted ceilings and gold-paneled walls. Her dragon, always calmed by the sight of the shiny stuff, purred a little between its growls. Sawyer’s touch also helped to calm her down.

  “Fucking asshole and his misogynistic ideas,” she hissed, leaning into him with a smile. To anyone looking they would appear for all the world like a loving couple. “Get Adra in here. We’ll show him what a lady-black can do.”

  Sawyer’s lips split into a grin and he seated her on the throne before breaking away. She just managed to wipe the dislike from her features and smile stiltedly as Henrick took his place on the chair placed just down from hers on the dais. His eyes were wide as he looked around the throne room. The pillared walls gave way to large open windows up near the roof, and the place was easily large enough to allow all the blacks to fly in and land in dragon form.

  “Very nice,” he murmured.

  “Beautiful place, as are you, my dear,” he offered with a smug smile bordering on lecherous that Cadie wanted to slap off his face. “And far too good to waste yourself on that commoner general. Only a man of good breeding would be able to truly appreciate a creature such as yourself.”

  She smiled, the expression behind it cold as she imagined tearing his head off with her draconic claws. “Then I am fortunate that my fiancé is not only a decorated and revered veteran but also a man of excellent taste. Ahh, here they are… my blacks.”

  Chapter 4

  The room went silent as twelve figures separated themselves from the massed members of the court and walked toward the throne. Sawyer, as always, was in the lead, his tall, broad-shouldered form flanked by that of her cousin, Calan, his long hair flowing over his shoulders. His expression, recently all smiles due to his new mate, was as grim and forbidding as Sawyer’s. The other blacks arranged themselves behind the two; Damian and Zac were flanked by Saul and Alex on one side and Ilarion, Joey and Victor on the other. Ari and Nik took the center, either side of the lone female in their midst, Adra. Their trainees, all blacks themselves, amassed behind the twelve.

  “A most impressive display indeed, but they do look a little…plain?” Henrick paused as he gestured toward his own group of guards to one side of the throne room. In sumptuous fabrics with brightly polished and totally useless armor, they stood out like peacocks against the twelve who, apart from Calan and Sawyer in court dress, wore utilitarian black combat clothing.

  “One could be forgiven for mistaking them for humans…” He frowned as he looked at them. “Not champions of the throne. Were I to sit on the throne, I would ensure that my champions looked the part and were feared by all.”

  Cadeyra held on to her smile through sheer force of will. “As long as they do their jobs, I do not force my blacks to wear costumes or perform like monkeys. They are not feared. They are respected—a respect that they have earned time and time again.”

  “Really?” Henrick’s eyebrow winged up and then he laughed. “But you have a woman amongst them. Bowing to political correctness because of your gender, I suppose. Does she hold the armor for the rest when they go into battle? Or maybe operates as a distraction?”

  He didn’t give Cadeyra a chance to argue, laughing uproariously as though he’d made the best joke in the world. Again, he missed the fact that Cadie and indeed, no one else in the throne room laughed with him. “I know… bring out your greatest fighter against my champion and we’ll see who is the best. Kalos! Attend!” he ordered, clapping his hands. Instantly, the biggest of his guards marched forward, executed a neat right turn and snapped to attention, the heels of his shiny boots ringing like gunshots with each step.

  “Yes, sire!”

  “Indeed, that would be a worthy test of skill.” Cadeyra inclined her head, lip curling slightly as the devil on her shoulder nudged her, and looked down at the assembled dragons.

  “Adra?” Cadeyra’s tone was silky as the female dragon’s chin lifted in acknowledgment. Cadie easily read both the anger and amusement in the other woman’s eyes. “If you would be so kind?”

  The female dragon strode forward, her petite figure dwarfed by the men around her as she wove through them to stand in front of the dais. Unlike Kalos, her well-worn boots made no sound on the highly polished floor. “Your Majesty,” she murmured, with a small bow. “As always, I am ready to serve.”

  “What?” Henrick’s jaw dropped for a moment, making him look again like a guppy. Then he laughed, the sound a little nervous. “Please, Your Majesty, be serious. Kalos will kill her. “

  Cadeyra looked directly at the prince, her expression deadly serious. “Adra is a black, as highly trained as the rest and one of my deadliest fighters. If your man would prefer to cede now, I would totally understand it.”

  “No,” Henrick shook his head vehemently. “But there is no way she can win.”

  Cadeyra inclined her head. “We shall see. Clear the center of the hall!”

  The blacks did as she bid, ushering everyone back toward the safety of the walls. Only Adra remained in the center, turning to walk away from the throne after checking that both Calan and Sawyer had taken protective positions in front of the dais. Cadie’s heart warmed with approval at how they always worked as a team.

  “Your Majesty, I must protest—” Kalos broke with protocol and addressed her directly, which earned
him a growl from Henrick.

  “If the bloody woman insists on going up against you, then offer her no quarter!” he ordered, his voice rising to almost a squeak.

  Kalos bowed his head immediately in deference. “Yes, sire.”

  He turned to face his opponent. Adra stood in the middle of the hall, feet shoulder-width apart and thumbs hooked loosely in her belt as she watched him. There was no fear on her face and the set of her body was relaxed as she watched him approach.

  “This is really gonna hurt, little girl,” he growled, winding a fist back.

  The blow didn’t fall. As soon as Kalos threw the punch, Adra moved. Sliding gracefully to the side, she ducked under his fist and moved in. Her hands moved in a flurry of blows, landing on unprotected parts of the big guard’s body with loud slaps.

  He grunted in pain and tried to move away, to back up and give himself some room to launch another attack, but the female dragon wasn’t having any of it. Easily, she moved with him, dancing around his larger figure as she took him apart with fists, knees and elbows. Rather than a dance of lust and sensuality, it was a tango of violence and pain, but was no less hypnotic for it.

  Kalos roared, managing to break away, and Adra let him. It was obvious to everyone that Henrick’s man was massively outmatched.

  “FIGHT, FOR GOD’S SAKE, YOU USELESS IMBECILE!” Henrick screamed, his face nearly purple with rage. “SHE’S JUST A WOMAN!”

  Adra looked over her shoulder at Cadeyra, who nodded, unspoken communication flowing between the two women. The next time the female black attacked, she didn’t hold back. Launching herself at Kalos, she slid to the side, swiping newly manifested claws along his side. He roared and part-shifted to slam a tail into the granite where she had been a moment before. But she was already gone. Running full tilt at one of the columns, her opponent in hot pursuit, Adra planted a foot in the middle of the pillar and launched herself from it. Spinning in mid-air, her dark hair a cloak around her, she slammed a small, booted foot into the side of Kalos’ jaw.