The Dragon Slayer (Dragon Prince Series Book 1)

by Marie Daye

  Chapter Seven

  The following morning came fast, just a few hours of sleep was granted to each person who was able to sleep. The sun shined brightly over the landscape, sparkling beams reflected off the rushing waters of the trout filled creek. The old trees were heavy with leaves that rustled in a gentle breeze. The sky was clear with few clouds soaring overhead, and the air felt pleasantly cool with a crisp and fresh smell.

  Eskil groggily rose to the pleasant sight before glaring at the songbirds who sung their songs above his head. If it were not for them, he may have been able to get a few more minutes of sleep. He felt as though he had only closed his eyes just moments earlier. He sat up with a yawn, noticing that he was the only one remaining around the cooling embers of the night's fire. He glanced around, tracking his surroundings for Libelle.

  She was standing next to the small wagon where the three women were sitting on the front wooden bench, two horses were strapped in to pull the wagon and the remaining horses that the bandits had stolen were tied to the rear and sides of the wagon. Eskil stretched with another yawn, reaching both his stiff arms towards the sky. Thinking how much more sore he would have been without Libelle’s healing. He slowly approached them, overhearing their conversation.

  “Head south on this path here, then head west on the second turn on the main roads. There should still be signs along the crosses in the roads with directions. Follow them towards Edinburgh. When you arrive, sell off a few of these horses to the stable there for some coin. The stable master there is a fair man, and if you tell them I sent you: he will not even think of taking advantage of you.

  “Once there, head to the castle. The guards may delay you, but tell them you must speak with the King and who sent you. Tell him I am opening my home to you there and the guards will open it for you. He will give you his protection, you’ll become a citizen of Edinburgh for as long as you like. You’ll be able to find work, and you’ll have a roof over your head for as long as you desire.”

  Vigdis spoke first, “Thank you, you’re so kind for all of this. We are forever indebted to you.”

  Brynhild nodded with Vigdis’ words, her eyes red from her night of crying. Ingrid smiled, “Please, if there is ever anything we can do to repay you-”

  Libelle cut her off, “No, please do not think like that. I am not doing this and expecting something in return. Just look after yourselves alright? Travel swiftly, do not stop for anything. You should arrive no later than early dusk today if you maintain a steady pace.”

  “Thank you, your kindness knows no bounds.” Sniffed Brynhild.

  Libelle smiled at the young girl, “Wounds heal. Take time to find yourself and keep your sisters close.”

  She sniffed when more tears began to fall down her cheeks. Vigdis flicking the reins in her hands and ushering the horses forward. They were equipped with a large ration of their bread and dried meat, daggers plucked from the men's corpses, and coin to keep them warm and fed for the next few weeks.

  Libelle stepped back as the wagon and horses past, a light smile on her face as the girls waved back at her. Ingrid suddenly turned around on the wagon, shouting back to her.

  “Wait! After all this, we do not know your name! Who do we say rescued and sent us?”

  Libelle cleared her throat, scratching her head and toying with her hair before hollering back. “Tell them the Dragon Slayer sent you.”

  Ingrid’s eyes went wide, and the other girl’s necks nearly snapped as they looked back at Libelle. Hearing all girls squeal and simultaneously scream in surprise, she fought back a chuckle. She returned their frantic wave with a light one, a sigh weighing on her chest as she bundled her hair together and pulling it all onto one side of her neck before toying with the end of the strands.

  Eskil realized she hadn't noticed his approach, and had yet to notice he was standing inches behind her. He smirked to himself, and leaned over her shoulder. He opened his mouth wide, clamping down onto her skin between her neck and shoulders. He bit hard enough to surprise her, but not hard enough that he would suffer the consequences.

  She spun around with wide eyes, her hand covering where he had just bitten. “Did you just… bite me?!”

  He shrugged, “Get me some fish again.”

  She was taken aback. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, get me some-”

  She shook her head. “I heard what you said. I’m wondering where your demands are suddenly coming from. Get them yourself.”

  Eskil stepped closer to her, bending down so his face was more equal to hers. He draped his arms over her shoulders. He licked his lips, “I don’t know how. You do it for me.”

  He watched her grow more uncomfortable with his closeness, and he was quickly learning that if he was unable to physically harm her: he would be able to find more ways to torture her. He watched her cheeks darken, a reaction that seems to be becoming more common. He leaned back down and nipped at her neck again.

  “If you don't, I may be forced to find myself a she-elf to eat.”

  He grunted when she drove her fist into his chin, his teeth snapping together at the impact, he growled as she stepped away from him. She turned away from him and stomped towards the remains of the camp fire. Eskil felt a smug smile cross his face as he chuckled. He was making Libelle rather uncomfortable when he got so close to her. He followed her towards the fire and watched as she placed small logs into the embers, gently blowing on them to coax the flames back to life.

  He stood behind her again, twisting his fingers into her long hair. The tips of her ears were red, and he brushed his finger against the back of her ear. She squirmed, and turned around to glare at him.

  “What do you want?” She snapped.

  Eskil chuckled, and took a step back when she stood up. He easily sensed how uncomfortable she was when he got too close to her. He smiled a fiendish grin and pulled her against his chest, her face level with his bare chest as his torn shirt clung to him just by his shoulders. Her cheeks darkened even further, and the reaction thrilled him.

  She squirmed to get away, “Stop touching me you beast.”

  He chuckled again, the sound mimicking the rumbling his dragon form would make from his throat. He wrapped his arms around her. “Why Libby? I find this rather enjoyable. I cannot hurt you, so what is the issue?”

  She gritted her teeth together. “If you do not let go, you will not get any breakfast. Understand?”

  Food or angering Libby? Food is more sustaining, and the trout did taste fairly decent. Libby has some interesting reactions though. He smiled down at her, flashing his long canines and running his tongue along his teeth. He picked her up by her waist, carrying her towards the creek. She squirmed in his hold, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest and her arms pinned at her sides.

  “Easy there she-elf, the more you squirm the more I feel like doing something else to you.”

  She stilled instantly, and arched her neck back to look at him. He loved the fire that was burning in her eyes, she was full of life and it thrilled him to see the expression she would have in battle. He set her down along the shore line. “I want food.”

  She sneered at him, “You seem to want a lot of things.”

  Eskil grinned, “Perhaps.”

  Libelle squealed as Eskil pushed her backwards, sending her falling backwards into the cold waters. She hit the surface with a loud splash, gasping as her cotton and leather clothing sucked in the cool water and weighing her down in the current. Eskil laughed, turned away from her and waved back at her as she stammered out curses at him.

  Eskil sat across the fire from Libelle with his arms crossed over his chest. A fresh shirt was folded and in his lap, rummaged from the belongings of the deceased bandits. He glared at Libelle who happily chewed her cooked trout, four more fish sat cooking over the fire in front of her: and two empty spears sat at her side. She was enjoying her meal with a smile, while he stared at the stale bread sitting before him with a frown.

  “I told
you to get me fish, not yourself.” He growled.

  She smiled. “I would have gotten you fish, if you had not thrown me into the stream.”

  “You could at least share.”

  “No, I don't think I should have to. Especially after your earlier behavior.” She took another bite of her trout, exaggerating the taste with a soft moan. Eskil’s glare intensified, a loud rumble echoed from his stomach. Libelle couldn't contain her chuckle as she sat before her rival, his appearance was entirely different yet he was still Eskil, the dragon prince who led his winged army in battle. The slayer of men and devourer of souls. A vicious beast, who was pouting over a fish.

  She took another savory bite, smacking Eskil’s hand away from the remaining fish cooking over the fire. He growled beside her, one of his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her backwards against his chest. His other hand wrapped around both of hers as he pulled her cooked fish towards his mouth and took a massive bite.

  Libelle felt an uncontrolled blush burn across her cheeks as she found herself sitting on his crossed legs, held firmly against his chest while he took one bite after another of her meal. Gods help me, she thought. The man beast is all too friendly with me. Why does he touch me like this? It’s strange and unnerving.

  She watched as he took the last bite of her trout, then wrapped his arms around hers so she could not swat away his hands again as he reached and plucked another from the flames. He took another massive bite while she silently stared up at him. He hastily ate the fish, licking his lips as he took the last bite again. He reached forward and grabbed another fish, taking another bite before looking down at her.

  He finished chewing, swallowed and said, “What? Do you expect me to share with you after you’ve been so callous and cold to me?”

  She didn't respond, and then he sighed. Lowering the staked trout towards her lips and offering her a bite. She couldn't help but laugh, taking a small bite of the fish. “What are you up to? You are far to calm in this situation Eskil. Where is your rage, your threats, your curses? This is not like you, it's actually more frightening.”

  Eskil smiled wide, staring at her puzzled expression for a moment before he bent down and trailed his tongue over the crook of her neck where he had playfully bit her earlier. She stiffened, and pulled away as far as she could with his grip still around her arms and waist.

  He chuckled. “Pretty elf.” You will be mine.

  She grumbled, trying to pull away again. “You must have lost you mind along with your scaly form.”

  Eskil flared his nostrils, “No. I’ve lost nothing of the sort. Instead I have accepted the fact that despite how much I would enjoy tearing your throat out, I cannot do that. No matter how much I try, I’ll be the one who ends up hurt.” He lifted her chin, licking her throat for added emphasis to his words. “If I cannot harm you, or kill you: I’ll find my pleasure in doing other things that make your skin crawl.”

  He felt her tense more, her arms were becoming rigid. “I find myself to be quite skilled at being a thorn in your side slayer, and with each passing moment I am learning of new ways to be a parasite to you that you’ll never be rid of. Not until you return me to my original form. Only then may you be rid of me. I can feel how tense you are when I have you this close to me Libelle, it cannot be a comforting sensation for you. If you want it to end, just reverse this damned curse of yours.”

  She shook her head, glaring at him. “I will not. Like I’ve said before; even if I knew how to break the spell, I would not.”

  A vein in Eskil’s temple began to pulsate, and he could feel it throb beneath his skin. He was learning that if he touched Libelle without the intentions of harming her, he could hold her as tightly as he wanted. But if his intentions were growing darker like they were now, pain began to radiate throughout his body in a warning.

  He snorted, his hold on her loosening as he returned his attention to his claimed trout. Libelle stood up, squaring her shoulders and stomping away from him. He watched as her hips swayed side to side with each step, her round bosom being clung to by the wet leather of her pants. Her thin waist framed by her still damp cotton shirt. She stood by her stallion, patting his neck and murmuring something to the faithful creature. She didn't look back at him, not once as he ate the remaining trout and she began to saddle both their horses.

  She took her time and spoke to each horse, feeding those oats from their sack and assuring that the saddles were on correctly. Her attention once again directed elsewhere, he kicked dirt into the dying embers and walked up to her. Again she was turned away from him, standing next to the sturdy tree the horses had been tied to. She straightened and spun around when she felt his presence behind her.

  He took advantage of her surprise again, rushing himself forward and her backwards. She let out a surprised yelp as her back was pressed against the tree trunk and his body pressed against hers. He loved how her eyes swirled with different shades of blues when she doesn't shut her emotions down. He was thrilled to see life spark into her, it made torturing her so much more pleasurable when she was not a hollow shell.

  Anger and fear reflected in her expression and she chewed on her lower lip. She glanced around his arm and he followed her vision towards her blade that was now strapped to her horse’s saddle. He chuckled, his arms wrapping around her and his fingers digging into the tree bark. She had nowhere to flee to and it thrilled him, he wondered just how far he could push the limits to his curse.

  His body weight pinned her against the tree as he freed one hand and lifted her chin so she was forced to look up at him. “So you say my behavior is strange?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, I was wrong. Your behavior is still as vile as ever, you’re cruel and sadistic.”

  “You're right.” His smile widened as he pressed his nose against the side of her neck, inhaling her scent and enjoying the shiver that ran through her. Her hands were against his chest, now attempting to push him backwards, but he didn't budge. She growled in frustration, but froze when she heard Eskil’s soft moan. Her head snapped back up as she looked back at him. Eskil’s eyes were closed, his brow furrowed and his lips were parted ever so slightly. She tried pulling away from him again, pushing against his body and wiggling to try and free herself. Eskil moaned again, his hand left her chin and his claws dug into the tree.

  “Stop moving!” He hissed.

  “Then let me free you damned beast!” She squirmed again, and Eskil gasped: the sound unfamiliar with them both.

  “Stop moving!” He snapped again, and she froze. He was exhaling slowly, his nostrils flaring with each breath. He told her to stay still, and the tension she felt from him told her to obey. She wanted to refuse, to get away from the situation but in the pit of her stomach she felt she was safer remaining still. She thought that only for a moment.

  Eskil’s eyes shot open and found hers, his expression was serious as he leaned down: resting his head on her shoulder. His back arched, his hips thrusting forward while he ground his hips against hers. Another beast-like moan escaped his lips.

  “Curses slayer.” He purred. “What have you done to me?”

  He felt better then he should ever feel pressed up against her, his body was on fire as he felt the same intense pleasure he had felt on the cold stone floor of the temple This mortal body of his was more cursed than he originally had thought. He was defenseless to mortals, he could not fight them or take their lives. He could not spill their blood, hear their cries of agony as he scorched their homes and their flesh.

  She had taken his strength, his power, and his wings. She had cursed him to a mortal form, and neither knew how to reverse the spell. The only way he could reach the Divines to corner and question them behind these actions; was if he were to fly to the heavens and corner them himself. He was trapped and this mortal body betrayed him. Here he was, his being telling him to end her life but his desires told him to do the opposite. The desire he felt for her, it was unnatural and unnerving. Cursed she-elf, t
his cursed spell of yours. I want to kill you. I want to watch you take your last breath while you choke on your own blood; I should not want to fuck you. I want to dominate you. I want your body brave elf, slayer. Mine. Mine.

  “Mine!”

  The growl that emitted with his words rumbled from deep in his throat, and the power that he would typically feel in his true form came with it: shaking the ground beneath their feet.

  Libelle flinched when his rumbling voice turned into a throaty groan, his firm body pressed against hers further and she felt his hard member bulging beneath the wool of his pants. He rubbed himself against her hips slowly, relishing the sensations it brought him. She needed out of this position, and she needed to move now. Her hair was standing on end, her nerves were telling her she needed to flee.

  Eskil’s eyes locked with hers again, the gold color smoldering like lava as his expression turned fierce. He released the tree bark, leaving behind deep gouges where his nails had been digging into the ashy colored wood. One hand slid behind her neck, tangling into her flaxen hair; pulling her head back and exposing the nape of her neck. His hot breath teased her skin as he flicked his tongue against her throat. His other hand twisting the fabric of her damp shirt, yanking the material upwards as his fingers traced over her trembling stomach.

  She gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut and fighting for the strength to find her words. “Eskil, stop. Right now you beast.”

  He didn't respond, but instead his fingers trailed further up her shirt. His teeth grazed her neck, his grip in her hair tightening and pulling on her scalp.

  “Mine.” He repeated breathlessly. “Slayer, mine.”

  Libelle felt a shudder of fear rush through her, the feeling more foreign than she felt comfortable with. This fear was not something she was familiar with, it did not feel deeply rooted to her core. She did not feel as if her life were in danger, it felt as if Eskil would not hurt her: yet she was terrified. His hold around her loosened, as he moved against her while another beast like growl passed his lips sending another tremor through the ground.