Mating the Dragon

by Rinelle Grey

  Now it was there, out in the open, taunting her with the fact that tonight, if all went to plan, Taurian and Wayrian would be having sex.

  Karla shoved that thought away before it could really take hold. She couldn’t change anything now. She’d already been through all this, and made her peace with it. More importantly, right now she had a job to do.

  “We only need to concern ourselves with what’s done publicly,” she said quickly. She didn’t think Wayrian was going to volunteer any details, but she didn’t want to risk it. She most certainly didn’t want to know what would be happening after the celebration that night.

  Luckily, Vesrian turned up with the mating outfit at that moment, cutting off the conversation.

  “Right, if the two of you can handle this, I’m going to check on Taurian,” Karla said.

  “No, please,” Wayrian said quickly. Then she blushed, and asked, “Would you mind helping me dress? It takes two, and I’d really appreciate your help.”

  Couldn’t Vesrian do it? Karla looked at the young woman, and though she was hiding it, she still looked sullen. Perhaps asking her to help dress another woman in her own mating outfit was a bit unfair.

  Then again, was it fair to ask Karla to help dress the woman who was about to mate the man she loved?

  Karla heaved a sigh. None of this was fair. None of it could be until Ultrima was defeated. No point arguing about things being unfair when there were bigger things at stake.

  What she needed to do right now was make sure Wayrian turned up for the mating. And the best way to do that was to stay here with her until she did.

  “Sure,” she agreed.

  Vesrian disappeared almost before the words had left her mouth.

  Wayrian carefully unwrapped the leather bundle the woman had left, a slightly awestruck expression in her eyes.

  Curiosity overcame Karla’s reluctance. Just what sort of clothes did dragons wear to their mating ceremonies anyway? Taurian had spoken so highly of it, that she couldn’t help wondering.

  Wayrian held up a small, white, leather bikini top, elaborately decorated with several rows of beads, their colour exactly the same as the red earth of the entrance mound to the lair. Hanging off the bottom, on strips of leather, was a row of white feathers.

  Karla bit her lip. Perhaps a good thing that she wasn’t the one mating Taurian. She wasn’t sure she was up to wearing this sort of outfit. A bikini at the beach was one thing, but to a wedding?

  Somehow, she couldn’t help imagining Taurian’s eyes when he saw her in something like this. How they’d widen, and sweep over her appreciatively. Her body reacted instantly, and suddenly the underground room seemed hot, even though it should have been cooling, with the temperature dropping rapidly outside.

  “It’s beautiful,” Wayrian whispered, reminding Karla that she wasn’t going to be the one Taurian was staring at. Wayrian was.

  The realisation was like a bucket of cold water on the flames.

  “No time for admiring, let’s get you dressed,” Karla said shortly. No point in prolonging this. She didn’t have the time, or the inclination, to pretend this was a real mating—even if the end result would be the same.

  Wayrian nodded and began stripping. Since she only wore a simple tunic, that process took mere seconds, then she was slipping on the mating bikini. Luckily, the simple design was easily adaptable, as it was a little large in places.

  Karla pushed aside her own issues, and helped tie the leather strips to make it fit with at least a degree of acceptability. The matching leather skirt that Wayrian pulled out next covered a little more than the top. It went at least half way to Wayrian’s knees, and the tip of the row of feathers brushed her knees.

  The young woman, with her blushing cheeks and uncertain look, looked every bit a tribal bride. Karla could hardly bear to look at her.

  But apparently avoiding it was easier said than done.

  “Does it look okay?” Wayrian’s voice was uncertain.

  “It’s fine. What it looks like doesn’t really matter right now,” Karla said firmly. “So long as Ultrima believes it’s a mating outfit.”

  Wayrian didn’t reply, but her shoulders slumped and she looked down at the ground. Karla almost didn’t care that she’d hurt her feelings. But it wasn’t the young woman’s fault. It wasn’t like she’d picked Taurian out and blackmailed him into marrying her.

  “You care about him, don’t you?” Wayrian’s voice was soft.

  “That doesn’t matter right now,” Karla said roughly, before the young woman’s words could release the tears she was only just keeping at bay. The last thing she needed right now was understanding from this woman. She needed to stay strong, and do what had to be done. And she could only do that if she didn’t think about it.

  “I’m sorry,” Wayrian said. “If it helps any, I’m going to do my very best to be the best mate he could have.”

  Damn her. Why couldn’t she be awful, so Karla could hate her?

  Karla looked up at Wayrian, the tears filling her eyes making the young woman’s solemn and serious face look blurry. “I’m sure you will. Now don’t make me cry, that’s not a good look for a mating. Is there anything else you need to do to get ready?”

  Of course there was. Wayrian’s hair had to be braided, and the included feathers strung through it. And there were strings of beads to be wrapped around her ankles and wrists. Karla could see why Wayrian had needed help, some of these dressings were too intricate to be donned alone.

  Finally, it was all done. Karla took a step back and surveyed the bride.

  She tried to see the young woman objectively. Would it convince Ultrima that this was, indeed, a mating ceremony?

  Wayrian blushed. “Will it do?” She echoed Karla’s thoughts.

  She looked beautiful. The outfit might be nothing like anything Karla would have worn as a bride, but it was stunning none the less.

  And it just rammed home the fact that this young woman was about to marry the man Karla loved.

  No, not just marry, mate with. In dragon terms, that meant even more than marriage. The ceremony would tie Wayrian and Taurian together with a magical bond so strong they would even die together.

  Taurian would forget all about the human he had cared for so briefly.

  Okay, that might be a little dramatic. He’d remember who she was, and the things they had done together. He might even be able to remember that he’d felt strongly for her. But those feelings would be gone, never to return.

  For him, anyway. Karla wasn’t sure that the things she felt for him would ever fade. Would she ever be able to conjure up a memory of his face without a resulting stir in her heart, like the one she was experiencing now?

  Would time release her from this pain, or would she feel this forever? She wasn’t sure which she wanted. Life would be easier if this memory of loving Taurian faded, but right now, she wanted to feel the pain. It reminded her that it was real, that she had felt something so amazing that it would live with her forever.

  It made it more important, more meaningful.

  She heaved a sigh. She could ponder those deep and meaningful things later, when the adventure was over. Right now, there was still more excitement and danger to deal with before she had that luxury.

  “It’s perfect,” she told Wayrian. “Ultrima will be totally convinced.”

  At the mention of the enemy dragon’s name, Wayrian’s face paled. “Do you think… Do you think he’ll expect me to talk to him?”

  “I think you have to,” Karla said firmly. “You have to let him know you’re not afraid.”

  “But I am afraid.”

  Karla remembered Taurian’s words in the coffee shop in Mungaloo. Somehow, it felt appropriate to be repeating them to his soon to be mate now. “You have to pretend. Half the battle is convincing the enemy that you’re not afraid.”

  Wayrian stared at her. “Pretend not to be afraid?” It was clear the concept was foreign to her. Perhaps it was an idea unique
to Taurian, or perhaps it had been forgotten in the last three hundred years, as they’d been chased by the Trima clan.

  Wayrian considered it for a moment, her head tilted on one side. Then she nodded decisively.

  “I’m good at pretending,” she said. “I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

  “Then you’ve got this,” Karla said firmly.

  She only wished she had half as much confidence in her own abilities at pretence.

  Could she pretend that she didn’t care about Taurian? Would Ultrima believe it? Even if he didn’t, did it matter?

  Chapter 2

  Where was Karla? She’d been gone a long time. Taurian tried to focus on the dragons loading food on the furs in front of him, and not scan the room again to see if she’d appeared yet. It was hard to sit still and pretend to be polite when adrenaline was flooding his body, telling him to run, fly, fight.

  But none of those would save his clan now.

  What was Karla doing? He needed to see her. To talk to her. She was the only one he could trust. She would understand what he was doing. She would help his people get away from here to safety while he distracted Ultrima.

  She wouldn’t bother him with stupid question about how he was going to get away.

  She would know that there was no way he could. The only thing that would suffice to distract Ultrima enough for his people to escape was a fight. A battle Taurian knew he couldn’t win. A battle he would fight anyway.

  Karla cared about him deeply, but it was as a person, not a prince. He was important to her personally, but not symbolically. His sacrifice would hurt her deeply, but she would understand. She would know immediately that he was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for his people, and that their survival was far more important than his own.

  She would… If she was here.

  His eyes scanned the room. There was Jayrian, and all the elders, and even Gretchen and Karla’s family. No one else was missing.

  Except…

  He scanned the room again, a sense of foreboding creeping over him. Wayrian. His intended mate to be was missing too. Guilt stabbed him that he hadn’t even realised she was missing until that moment.

  “So when can we expect the celebrations to start?” Ultrima asked, his voice smooth. He sounded amused, as though he was just waiting for Taurian to admit this was all a ruse.

  He was going to figure it out soon, despite the fact that the feast Mesrian had pulled out on such short notice was almost impressive enough for a mating feast.

  He and Wayrian had made no preparations for their mating at all. And though the clothes he wore were almost close enough to ceremonial to pass, Wayrian’s would not.

  They didn’t have long before Ultrima grew tired of teasing him and returned to his plans to destroy all of them.

  “You can’t rush these things, you know.” Taurian forced his words to be slow and lazy, and even tried to inject a note of amusement into his voice. “A man’s job is to wait until his mate is ready.”

  Ultrima didn’t even have to force the amused look he shot Taurian. “I’m pleased to see you know your place.”

  Ultrima’s words were mocking, taunting. He wasn’t referring to the gentle sparring for dominance between mates. He was insinuating Taurian’s place was lower than his.

  He was trying to make Taurian angry. And it was working. Taurian could feel his blood heating and his pulse racing. He tried to take a deep breath, not to grind his teeth. But it wasn’t working.

  He just wanted this over with. Where was Karla?

  A scream outside set his heart racing. Taurian jumped up and glared at Ultrima. “What is going on?” His heart pounded in his ears. It was all a trick, to lure him underground while the Trima dragons attacked his people.

  Ultrima rose to his feet more slowly. “That will be my entourage. I sent for them when I received your invitation. Just in case you had any ideas of attacking me in force, while they were absent.

  “Your entourage?” Taurian tried to keep the blind rage from his face.

  The rage caused by the fact that extra dragons would make escape for his clan impossible.

  He took a deep breath. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool. Not now. “We should go great them then. I wouldn’t want them to feel unwelcome.”

  Ultrima’s blue eyes held a trace of respect. Taurian didn’t even care that the other dragon was impressed by his ability to remain cool. That wouldn’t help his clan escape to safety. What he needed to do right now was assess what they were up against. How many dragons had Ultrima brought?

  He strode up the ramp to the entrance, and stared in dismay at the dozen lightning dragons who had landed in the clearing.

  More than enough dragons to surround his lair and prevent his clan from escaping.

  They truly were trapped now.

  He should have encouraged Karla to leave, then she, at least, would be safe. How stupid was he, to think that she would be safer here with him?

  Now what was he going to do?

  Buy time, for a start. He would figure something out. Wouldn’t he?

  The first thing to do was get them out of dragon form. Not that their magic was less potent in human form, but they were less intimidating. And easier to dodge.

  “The perfect number. I’m sure we have enough seats. Would you like to invite them in?” Taurian offered.

  Ultrima grinned, showing all his teeth. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to crash your party like that. I can see that you are rather short of food. They’ll be happy to wait outside. They’re only here to ensure no one pulls any tricks, you understand.”

  Taurian understood the veiled threat only too well. His jaw clenched, and his teeth ground together. He’d be lucky if his teeth weren’t totally ground down by the end of the night. Not that he would need them if he didn’t figure out a way out of this.

  There was nothing for it but to escort Ultrima downstairs and sit down again.

  There really wasn’t anything he could do. He was stuck with playing the gracious host, even though he had no appetite for the feast spread out in front of him.

  The temptation to give up the pretence and attack Ultrima here and now was huge. The twelve dragons outside would have to transform into human form to fit through the mound entrance, and they would be at a distinct disadvantage coming through the narrow opening.

  The trouble was, their magic was just the same, in dragon form or human form. Even if his clan managed to take out half the Trima dragons before they could react, it would take just one lightning bolt to jump around the room, killing far too many Rian dragons.

  In fact, he was amazed Ultrima hadn’t already called in the attack.

  Then again, maybe he was hungry, and wanted to eat before his battle.

  Taurian felt sick. He needed to do something, before it was too late, but every escape was blocked. He couldn’t see any way out.

  Several indrawn breaths drew his attention back to the present. He looked around the room, where all eyes were on the entrance to the sleeping chambers.

  There stood Wayrian, dressed in full mating costume.

  The sight was impressive, as was the fact that she’d managed to pull it off somehow in such a short time.

  But Taurian barely looked at her. His eyes were immediately drawn to Karla, standing in his mate-to-be’s shadow.

  How had she achieved this? Because he didn’t for a moment think that this was Wayian’s work. The brief few moments he’d spent with her convinced him she didn’t have an original idea in her head.

  “You’re a lucky dragon, Taurian.”

  Ultrima’s low drawl pulled him back to where he stood. He glanced at the lightning dragon, who was watching him in amusement. “I thought you were having me on, buying time to give your clan a chance to run. But you really are getting mated, huh?”

  A shock ran through Taurian at Ultrima’s words. He was getting mated. He’d thrown out the comment in a desperate attempt to stall Ultrima, and he hadn’t really stoppe
d to think what it meant. He’d thought he’d have more time to get used to the idea. To get used to the idea that he wouldn’t be mating Karla.

  Ultrima clapped him on the back almost hard enough to knock Taurian over. It was enough to knock him out of his shock, and bring him back to the current problem. Being mated was the least of his concerns.

  His invitation hadn’t fooled Ultrima for a moment. He’d known exactly what he was planning.

  Not that it was hard to figure out.

  Well, the next plan would have to be better. Something Ultrima would never expect.

  But it would have to wait. Taurian hid a grimace. He had a mating to attend. His mating.

  Standing up, he stepped towards Wayrian, forcing his eyes to remain trained on her, not to flick sideways to Karla, standing next to her. “I am pleased that you chose to meet me today,” he said, his voice loud enough to carry around the whole cavern.

  Wayrian’s reply was quieter, but clear enough. “I look forward to many more meetings in the future.”

  The first ceremonial words completed, Taurian escorted her towards the seats of honour Mesrian had prepared for them. “Please, everyone, enjoy tonight’s feast,” Taurian invited, making sure his eyes met Ultrima’s.

  This time, he allowed himself a glance at Karla on his way around the room. Her face was drawn and pale, but she looked determined.

  Good. She was working on a way out of this too.

  Taurian’s heart lightened. Together they would find one, even if they couldn’t risk a private meeting.

  Chapter 3

  Karla stared down at the food in front of her, not really seeing it. But the alternative, watching Taurian and Wayrian sitting next to each other and sharing the meal was even worse.

  It tore at her heart to see the looks they exchanged. Not loving or tender looks, but there was definitely a shared bond of some sort. Karla tried to tell herself it was pretend, to fool Ultrima. Taurian couldn’t have changed so much in that short a time. He couldn’t really feel anything for a woman he didn’t even know.