Dulce's Champion (Jaguars of Brigantia Book 1)

by Lisa Daniels

  “You really admire him, which means he must be exceptional.”

  “That is definitely a very accurate assessment of him, although most people would not mean it in a nice way.”

  “Clearly he must be someone worthy of respect if you feel that way about him.”

  “I think so, yes, but there are few who would agree.” Draven took a deep breath, and Dulce was very aware of the way his muscles moved against her. For the first time, she felt a blush on her cheeks at the realization that he was still shirtless. “Ignacio was right about him, although you definitely did not seem to believe him.”

  “What?” Dulce froze, forgetting the temporary distraction. “You were listening to our conversation?”

  “I was sent to follow you, and until that night, there really wasn’t much to monitor.”

  “You were assessing me?”

  “I had to. We knew that you were under the influence or worse. It was my task to figure out which of the two, then act accordingly.”

  “So, if you had thought that I was under the control of the Unwashed, you would have killed me?”

  There was a drawn-out silence. “It isn’t something I want to think about now.”

  “What? Why?” Dulce was shocked by the strange admission.

  “Even before I was able to isolate the poison, I saw what you must have been like before they tried to corrupt you. I heard about how Ignacio rejected you, but you still treated him with kindness that night. There were a couple of times where I thought about stepping in at the tavern, but I had to follow your lead. Despite what that man did, you just accepted it. You still passed on your vision to someone that I thought you should have—even under their influence, you were… amazing. I have known seers, mystics,” he said mystic with a note of derision, “and druids, but none of them were like you. That was when I realized that your healing ability wasn’t like anyone else’s. Where others can work to heal the physical, your ability lies with the mind and spirit. Before that night, I would have scoffed at the idea, but that is why people are drawn to you. And that was what made you the target that the Unwashed couldn’t allow to live. You were meant to be corrupted and killed. They couldn’t even manage that because they don’t have any understanding of who you are or what makes you so special.”

  The room fell silent, and Dulce felt as if the warmth behind her had gotten a little hotter.

  “Are you blushing?” She turned to look at him as she asked. To her surprise, Draven was blushing a lot as he looked into her eyes. Before he could say anything, she beamed, “That is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  “Don’t take it the wrong way! I—”

  She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. Draven didn’t move as she pressed her lips against his, then began to run her tongue along his lips.

  His arms snaked around her body and pulled her to him. His mouth opened a little and Dulce slipped her tongue between his lips. Gently, she ran her tongue along his, and slowly, he started to respond. She pulled away and smiled at him.

  Draven looked confused. “You should be careful. I don’t know how champions and seers say thank you to each other, so I might get the wrong idea.”

  Dulce looked at him, feeling the blush rise on her cheeks. With Ignacio’s rejection of her being something she had considered a lot in recent days, she did not want to drive Draven away too. “I just—I'm sorry, I just got a little over-excited.”

  “Excited?” He looked even more confused.

  “I mean, I just—” she moved to the edge of the bed and rolled over, “I know that you aren’t interested, so don’t worry, I'm not going to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  “Wait, what?” Draven’s hand moved around her wrist. “Are you saying—it almost sounds like you are saying that you—”

  Dulce looked into his orange eyes, and instead of a cold stare or indifferent air, there was uncertainty, confusion, and hope. “Oh! You... you aren’t offended?”

  He shook his head and sat up.

  “If I want to... do it again, would that be alright?”

  “I wouldn’t say no if you want to, but you would be giving me the impression that you, umm…”

  Dulce’s expression melted into one of understanding. Leaning forward, she kissed him gently again. Draven’s hand moved up to her head and gently stroked her hair, but there was something different about the way he moved. There was nothing of the calming influence he had exerted on previous occasions. This time, the movement was more primal, as if he was asking for permission for something else. Dulce moved closer and she felt his arm slip around her waist. Her hand went to his chest, and she had to separate her lips from his for a moment to catch her breath. When she opened her eyes, his were closed. Her other hand gently touched his face, and his eyes flew open.

  A knocking on the door caused them to jump apart. Dulce looked at him, “Are you expecting anyone?”

  Draven shook his head, “No one comes to visit me here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I never want people in my home.”

  Dulce’s mouth opened a little as she stared at him, “And you brought me here? Not wanting me here?”

  “If I didn't want you here, the agreement was that Maverick would take over and manage you.”

  “So you don’t mind me being here?”

  He slowly shook his head, “I was not lying when I said you are different from anyone else I have ever met. The reason why people are so deferential to you, refusing to point out your flaws and faults, is because of that. But I was never trained to be gentle or kind, so cannot play that game. I cannot lie to you about the situation.”

  Dulce stared at him, “So, you don’t want to tell me what I want to hear or hide things from me to spare my feelings?”

  “No!” He was louder than he meant to be, and the knocking that they had been ignoring started again. “That was exactly why they were able to manipulate you like they did. No one could be straight or honest with you, not even the people under their control. All they could do was send you away, and hope that without anyone around you, you would change. It didn’t work.”

  “But you hid my memories from me. Didn’t you do that to spare my feelings?”

  “No, it was necessary to help draw out the poison. I wasn’t sure how they were influencing you still without contact. Without knowing that, I couldn’t find the poison in your system—it was clear there was some kind of link.”

  “How do you know all of this?”

  Draven looked toward the window as the knocking died down. “I’ve been working to stop it since the assassins realized what was going on. I’m the one who talked to Anders about it, cluing him into it. The champions wouldn't listen to me, just as the Order refuses to believe Anders, but until the last few years, it was enough to have the assassins.”

  “And—” she frowned, then shook her head, “the champions didn’t listen to you until recently.”

  “They still won’t listen to me. They are listening to Maverick.”

  “Do the champions know that you have me?”

  “Of course. They may not want to work with me, but like the Order and Anders, they know that they need me. They would be foolish to try to stop me given everything that has happened in Ishtar, and they know that they had no idea how to save you. Basically, you were stuck with a last-ditch effort to save your life. Not that you made it easy.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “Trying to rescue someone who is suicidal and being monitored by a dangerous cult, it wasn’t the kind of thing I would have thought I could manage successfully.”

  “But you did.”

  “That remains to be seen. The poison is still in your system, which means you are still at risk. And I don’t know how to draw it out. Yet.”

  “It would have been easier just to let me die.”

  Slowly he shook his head. “Not after seeing you interact with others. After that, I agreed that you had to survive. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, the sur
vival of the champions and seers could very well rest on you making it out of this alive and well.”

  Dulce felt herself flush as she noticed that the knocking had stopped. “I think the person is gone.” Turning around, she leaned in and kissed Draven before he could say anything else. She pushed him down onto the bed and carefully rested her body over his. Draven’s hand moved down her side and rested on her lower back. Dulce moved her leg so that she straddled him. The champion’s hand moved further down and pulled her toward him. She pressed her hips into his, and he began to pull up her night gown. As one hand slid between her thighs, the other continued to pull her gown over her head. Once her clothing was removed, Draven rolled her over onto her back. His orange eyes looked down at her, and there was something in them that she had never seen, as if years of repressed emotions were finally bursting forth. His head moved a little as he looked at her, his eyes taking in her body.

  “You have seen my body before.”

  “Not like this.”

  “What do you mean? Nothing has changed.”

  “You are awake.”

  “That doesn’t change anything about my body.”

  “It changes the way I see it.”

  The way he said it clicked in her head. Draven had never looked at her with any interest because she had been unconscious. “Doesn’t that go against everything the assassins train about a target?”

  “It was one of the main reasons why we decided that I shouldn’t pursue that life course.”

  “Not quite an assassin, not quite a champion.”

  His eyes looked down at her as if in disbelief of the situation.

  Dulce moved a hand up to his face and another to his pants. Undoing the belt, she gently ran a hand down his arm. “It’s okay, Draven.”

  “It—you—why would you be interested in me?”

  Dulce laughed until she realized he was serious. “Why would you be interested in me? I can’t have children anymore.” Her hand went to the scar.

  His eyes followed, then went back to hers. Slowly, he moved down and began to kiss the scar. “I never wanted any children.”

  “I did.”

  He stopped and looked up at her, “I know. But not everyone will judge you based on your reproductive ability. I still find you attractive, if not more so, knowing what you have been through.”

  “So you like me because I can’t have children?”

  Draven moved up and kissed her lips. Her breath was shallow when he pulled back. “You talk too much,” he whispered to her. “I like you just the way you are, and I wouldn’t change a thing. But before you can find another way of belittling yourself, I will show you that I mean it.”

  “Who’s talking too much now?” She looked up into his eyes.

  His smile was positively angelic as he looked down at her. Pushing her leg to the side, he ran a hand down her thigh. Tilting her hips up, he leaned over and kissed her as he moved inside of her.

  Dulce was taken by surprise at how direct he was. As soon as her body began to move in response, he had already worked her up, and she found herself moaning into his chest as she orgasmed. Breathless, she found her body already moving to his as soon as she began to relax. His hands moved around her hips, adjusting her legs so that they spread a little further apart. This time, he worked slower, gently pushing his tip into her a few times until she groaned and tried to slide him further into her. There was a look of satisfaction in his eyes as he watched her. As soon as she opened her eyes and noticed, he leaned over and kissed her as he pushed much further into her. With a satisfied moan, she pressed her breasts against him and enjoyed the feel of his body on hers.

  Chapter 9

  It was only when the knocking resumed that Draven finally stopped. Dulce panted under him, “Done already?”

  His head whipped around to look at her, “What do you mean already? We missed breakfast.”

  She giggled a little, “I get it, you are hungry and need—”

  Suddenly there was a male voice coming from the direction of the door. “Draven!”

  The look on his face told her that something was wrong. He placed a finger on her lips. Impossibly quickly, he was dressed. Pulling up the blanket over her, Dulce wanted to protest it, but knew better than to say anything. She watched as Draven strode out of her room and down the hall.

  “What has happened?” His voice was much harsher than she was accustomed to. Slipping out of the bed, she dressed as quickly as she could.

  Another male voice answered, but she couldn’t quite understand what he was saying.

  “But she isn’t ready. The poison is still—” Draven’s voice was clear, and she had a feeling that he was doing it for her benefit. “I understand that, but if I take her there now, it might kill her.”

  Dulce stepped out of her room. “I should get a say if—”

  A man that she had never seen stood in the doorway to the kitchen, and it almost looked like Draven was blocking him from coming any further. The stranger’s eyes were sapphire green, and there was clear interest in them as they took her in. If there was any doubt about his species, the midnight black of his hair made it perfectly clear. The man gave a perfect bow to her, but before he could open his mouth, Draven cut in, “No, you don’t get to say anything.”

  The man’s eyes moved to Draven, and a wicked grin spread across his face. “My dear Draven, your face is more than enough confirmation if my nose had been cut off.”

  “I can do that for you if you like.”

  The man put a hand to his chest, as if he was mortally wounded. Dulce couldn't help but giggle at the gesture. The assassin’s eyes shifted to her. “Your appearance and laugh are more delightful than even the rumors could convey.”

  “No. Don’t do that.” There was a clear warning in Draven’s voice.

  “This is between us. Considering you didn’t want anything to do with her, the fact that she is here is thanks to me. So you are welcome.”

  Draven’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t argue. While his guard was down, the newcomer pushed past him and gave an even lower bow just a few steps away from her. “It is truly a pleasure, my lady.”

  “You have seen her before.” Draven’s voice was low, almost a growl.

  “Don’t worry, dear little Draven, I am not here to seduce her. Well, not anymore.” His eyes flicked toward her, and Dulce blushed. He turned back to Draven, “I would never do that to one of my students.”

  “Are you his mentor?” Dulce’s eyes light up.

  “I am indeed, my lady, I am indeed. I did the best I could with what I had, but… well, I cannot change who he is. A real disappointment since he was easily the most skilled student I have ever had. Physically skilled. I should say physically skilled. Maverick has Draven decidedly beat in the personality department.”

  Draven growled, but didn’t move.

  “As obedient as ever, you are simply a doll, Draven. Just a doll.” Dulce looked between the two and had a very difficult time imagining how Draven had survived under the tutelage of someone like the shifter in front of her. It must have been difficult for him.

  “Clearly, you know who I am. May I know the name of Draven’s mentor so that I can properly thank you for having trained such an amazing man?”

  There was clear shock on the shifter’s face, which quickly changed to amusement. “Oh, he hasn’t told you about me?”

  “He has talked about you quite a bit, but he neglected to name you. In truth, Draven is a bit cagey about his past.”

  “Some things never change. Well, some other time, I will make sure to catch you up, but for now, I am needed in Sumaria.”

  Draven frowned, “I thought you said—”

  The man cut in, the smile completely gone from his face as he looked at his student, “I did. Haiden should be there, and I will have to let him take over my position.”

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with—”

  “Yes, it does. And I will not allow my current position to compro
mise this any further.”

  Draven looked at Dulce, “I think that having a substitute for you is too risky.”

  The shifter placed a hand on his chest, acting shocked. “Are you saying that you need me there?”

  Draven didn’t bat an eye. “You know I do. I do not trust any of the champions with important tasks. Certainly not with this.”

  The assassin hung his head for a moment and let out an exasperated sigh. When he looked up, there was no humor on his face. “Draven, honestly, I think that you could do this alone. Having me there is overkill at best, and incredibly dangerous at worst. You know what has happened to me recently, and this is not something that I am willing to risk. She is too important, even before this morning happened.” His eyebrow was arched, and Dulce could see him looking at her out of the side of his eyes. As quickly as the amusement appeared, it was gone. “I understand that you need more time, but that is not something I have the power to give you. At this point, the best you can do is trust in each other, which I believe you will find incredibly easy to do, even if I’m not a seer. If you want Haiden to hang around as backup, then I sincerely think that you two can handle it.”

  “But—”

  It was almost like the shifter had become someone else entirely as he stepped toward his pupil. “No, she almost died because of me two years ago, and one of your kind did die. I will not risk losing you because of my problems. Do you understand?” There was no arguing with him at that point. Even Dulce found herself nodding in response.

  Draven hung his head, “I understand. Please be careful.”

  The assassin nodded and headed toward the door. He was about to open the door when Draven said, “But keep this in mind. Darinon’s death wasn’t your fault either. If all of you would just stop trying to justify your suicidal tendencies, you will see that the fault lies squarely with the Unwashed. It is no one else’s doing. Not Dulce’s or Darinon’s, and certainly not yours.”

  The assassin’s face clouded over, but when he spoke, his words were measured, “I do not have suicidal tendencies.”