“You’re up first.” He pointed at the dragon. “We’ll tie Keara to you and then have Jamie sit behind her to make sure she stays on Fafnir’s back.”
Spots appeared at the edge of her vision and she swayed. So much for self-talk helping her get on the dragon. At least the creature held still, its only movement the ripple of scales as it breathed.
“What’s wrong, woman? Don’t tell me you’re scared of a dragon?”
Air hissed through her teeth as she straightened her shoulders. “Of course I’m not scared of the dragon.” See, she could lie. “I’ve just never flown before.”
Enar’s eyes lit up. “Flying is the best thing you’ll ever do upright. Riding the air currents, feeling the rush of wind in your face. Knowing you’re the biggest thing out there. Nothing, well, almost nothing, compares.”
“You really like it?”
“Didn’t I just say that? Now let me help you onto Fafnir.”
Large hands encircled her waist and lifted her, his touch warming the chill in her stomach. She reached for the spine of the dragon and scrambled up the slippery scales until she straddled its back. Throwing her arms around its neck, she leaned against the cool scales and drew in a breath.
This isn’t bad. I can do this. No problem. As long as the beast stayed firmly on the ground.
A touch like the beat of butterflies’ wings brushed against her mind and she jumped, almost losing her grip.
Hello, Lily.
Was that the dragon? Dragon?
A chuckle drifted through her mind. My name is Fafnir.
How can I hear you?
I’m speaking to you.
Apparently smart-arses crossed all races. But I can’t mind-speak.
True. But I can speak directly to you if I want.
How? And if that was true, why wasn’t anyone else speaking to her this way?
I’m a Draconi. And one would have to project their thoughts directly to you. If you’re conversing in a group and one doesn’t mind-speak, it makes things difficult.
So I’ve discovered. I feel rather left out. She stroked a hand across his scales, feeling the cool hardness. Fafnir shifted. She jerked her hand back. I’m sorry.
Whatever for?
I thought I made you uncomfortable.
Nonsense. A dragon likes to be petted now and then.
In that case. Lily stroked a little higher up Fafnir’s neck. A gentle sigh escaped the creature’s snout.
As she ran her palm over Fafnir’s scales, she glanced back to where Keara lay. Thoren picked Keara up and headed toward Fafnir, Enar in the lead. Long legs ate the distance between them. His gaze locked on hers, his blue eyes drawing her in, an invisible bond locking them together.
Fafnir turned his head, his feet stamping and the moment she shared with Enar cracked like dry ground in a drought. And here she thought she’d gotten used to the dragon, until he moved. What was he trying to do? Throw her off? She threw her arms around Fafnir’s neck, and squeezed.
Is that Watcher treating you well, Lily?
What did that have to do with her trying to stay on his back? You mean Enar?
That giant Watcher.
Enar. And he’s treating me fine. Why would Fafnir care how Enar treated her? What was she to the dragon? Although she had to admit, people, or in this case a creature, caring for her felt good.
Fafnir tossed his head, steam rising from his nostrils. If he doesn’t, you let me know and I’ll take care of him for you. The words growled through her mind, setting off a string of shivers cascading down her spine.
First Enar and now Fafnir. Being cared for felt good, but odd, like walking through a dreamland of honey treats. I don’t think that will be necessary. He treats me well.
It might become necessary. Keep me in mind.
What did one say to that? All right.
“Lily! Thoren’s going to tie Keara to you.” Enar’s big palm patted her foot.
“And how am I supposed to hold us both up? I can barely hold on myself!” And wouldn’t it be grand if they both took a nose dive off Fafnir’s back?
Enar’s brows slammed down. “How can you not hold on?”
Do not worry, Little One. I will wrap you in a spell.
“You can do that?”
“I can do what?” Enar squeezed her foot, a gentle tightening.
“What?” She looked at him for a second before realizing she had spoken out loud instead of in her mind. “Oh, sorry. I was talking to Fafnir.”
Enar opened his mouth, but Thoren interrupted him.
“Lily, don’t move.”
She froze, looking down at Thoren. His lips moved and then Keara lifted out of his arms and floated until she landed behind Lily. And why not? Yet another odd occurrence she now considered normal. Flying dragons, invisible walls, friends who floated through the air. What next? Priestesses asking her to join their rituals?
Jamie came running, carrying a long strand of rope. “Hey! I found it!”
“Great. Now get up there and tie Keara to Lily.” Thoren gestured to Lily and Keara and before she could blink, Jamie sat astride Fafnir.
How did the imp move so fast? Lily twisted around, staring at Jamie. Maybe he sprouted wings. No, no wings, just over-excited boy.
Despite constant input from Thoren and Enar, they managed to tie Keara to Lily, but her doubts remained about not falling off. If Fafnir could cast a spell to hold her in place, why did they have to tie Keara to her?
Because her mate feels safer that way.
Lily jumped as Fafnir’s voice echoed in her mind. Didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to read minds?
He chuckled. You have loud thoughts.
Her words choked in her throat as movement to the side caught her eye. The air around Thoren shimmered, waving around his body like steam. He threw his head back, ripples coursing under his skin, moving in a rhythmic motion. His clothes disappeared, replaced by red scales glinting in the afternoon sun. Arms and legs lengthened, his face elongated. The air warped around him, obscuring his body, expanding outward. And as soon as the air covered him, it disappeared, leaving a huge dragon in its place.
Her mouth dropped open. Impossible. Thoren had disappeared into scales, claws and huge teeth. The dragon he became shook its head, glanced at Fafnir and puffed out its chest. Red scales rippled in the sunlight as he stamped his feet.
Now she’d seen everything. A man who turned into a dragon. What was this world coming to? Lily had a feeling she’d see more odd things before this journey to her new home ended.
She watched Enar tie their baggage onto Thoren’s back before climbing on, watched his muscles tense and release as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Heat washed through her as she remembered him the night before, moving above her, inside her.
Ready? She felt Fafnir’s spell as it wrapped around her, a solid cage anchoring her to his back.
With a stomach-lurching hop, Fafnir expanded his wings, his muscles bunching under her thighs as he leapt into the air. Oh Goddess, she was airborne. What if she fell off? What if they fell out of the sky? Her eyes ached from squeezing the lids so hard together.
A wave of heat passed through her, nausea threatened to overwhelm her.
“This is fun!” Jamie hollered. “Fly higher!”
Oh, please no.
Lily. Fafnir’s voice echoed inside her head. Try to relax. You won’t fall off. I promise.
Are you sure?
A Draconi doesn’t give promises lightly. Now, take deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s good.
In through the nose, out through the mouth. Lily felt her nausea recede, the heat in her body dissipate in the cool wind brushing against her face. Her eyelids felt like stones, but she managed to raise them enough to see clouds like puffy balls floating beneath Fafnir’s flapping wings. The ground looked different from the air, fields and trees stood out in patterns, like a patchwork quilt.
A quick glance showed Enar sitting on
Thoren’s back, head tilted to the wind, a look of pure pleasure on his face. As if he felt her stare, he turned toward her, a smile spreading across his lips.
Her stomach lurched, but this time it had nothing to do with being airborne. Her eyes locked to Enar’s and time seemed to stop. Nothing mattered but him and her. And then they flew into a cloud and the moment disappeared as Enar vanished from view.
Lily closed her eyes and saw her life in River’s Run. Her miserable, in-fear-of-death life. Priests chasing her, threatening her. Her parent’s deaths. The failure of her shop, her livelihood. The only decent thing that happened to her was Keara, the other village outcast. What possessed Keara to grab hold of Lily when they were children, whisper in her ear that she could cure her blindness and then proceed to do so, Lily would never know, but she remained forever in Keara’s debt.
She didn’t even want to imagine how bad her life would have been if she’d been outcast and blind.
But she never needed to worry about being an outcast again. Enar took her away from it all.
Never mind she didn’t know where Enar was taking her, or what he expected from her, or how things would be once she got there.
Maybe the priests weren’t so bad after all.
What was she thinking? The unknown with Enar was better than being starved to death or hung for being different. And she got an attentive bed partner in the bargain.
But he hid something from her about her new life. Why? Why was answering her questions so difficult? Lily felt a chill run across her skin that had nothing to do with Fafnir banking to the right. What if Enar’s town was worse than River’s Run?
No. She refused to believe it. Everything would be fine. She glanced at Enar, watching him ride through the clouds as if he owned them. Would he defend her in front of the town’s priests if he meant to take her to a place equally as intolerant? Of course not.
Or would he? What did she really know about him besides his skills in the bedroll?
A big fat nothing.
But she wanted to believe he wouldn’t deceive her in that way. Hope sustained her. Hope always had. Enar grinned at her and she felt her lips turn up in return.
Gods. Every time that man looked at her, her insides turned to mush. She buried her head in Fafnir’s neck. She did not want to think about what it meant. No, she did not. It was better to focus on where she was going and what would be expected of her once she arrived. And as soon as they landed, Enar would answer her questions.
She hoped.
Chapter 7
Dear Goddess, how many questions did a claim have?
Enar stared at Lily, watching her mouth move. A total waste of her lips, which would be put to better use encircling his staff. Lifting her off Fafnir’s back caused her lips to move like branches in a storm. Setting her on the ground hadn’t helped matters.
“What?”
Small fists slammed against her waist. “I said, where in Draconia are you taking me?”
“To my home. How did you like flying? Was it as bad as you thought?” There, if she was going to talk, she could at least talk about a topic he was willing to discuss.
Narrowed eyes regarded him and he felt the puff of air from her sigh. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought, although I almost threw up. Fafnir’s really nice, but you’re avoiding the question.”
He cursed under his breath. Just when he’d thought he was in the clear. “Watchers live in our settlement several hours from the Draconi Temple. Enough with the questions, woman, we need to help prepare dinner.”
He pointed in the direction the others had taken, motioning Lily in front of him. With a huff and a glare she marched to where Thoren started a fire. Enar ran his hand through his hair, yanking strands out of the leather bind. Gathering the loose strands together, he tied them back off his face. Flying always loosened the things.
Ah, flying. Now that was an activity he could do every day. Soaring above the clouds, looking down at the patches of ground, knowing he was the biggest, baddest thing around. Wait. Where did that thought come from? Thoren was the biggest thing around when in dragon form, not him. And yet, flying made him feel as if he possessed the wingspan of a dragon, as if he dominated the world.
He’d give up being a Watcher if it meant he could be a dragon.
And how bizarre was that? No other Watcher he knew wanted to be a Draconi.
Lily bent over, picking up dried sticks, the firm globes of her arse beckoning, and faster than he could blink his thoughts fled, replaced by a longing that made his balls ache. He wanted her. Wanted her to care for him, wanted her to need him like he needed her.
Goddess’s teeth, what was wrong with him?
He’d obviously been around Thoren too long.
Keara joined Lily in her quest for sticks. It seemed as if the red-headed Halfling had recovered from her ordeal. Bruises dotted her face and he felt a cold ball of rage twist in his stomach. He understood the battle Thoren must be going through, the fight within to stay and kill the ones who harmed Keara warring with the urge to get her to safety.
If Lily had been kidnapped instead of Keara, he wouldn’t have hesitated to unleash his anger on the ones who hurt her. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was falling for his claim.
What a thought.
Throughout dinner Enar stared at Lily, unable to get her questions out of his mind. He refused to tell her what things were like in his village, how Watchers treated their women. But how long could he avoid her questions?
Lily’s white head bent toward Keara’s red one as they sat together on a log, chewing on their dinner of jerky. Undoubtedly sharing secrets he wished she’d share with him.
He mentally banged his head. Why did he have such feelings for his claim?
Luckily Thoren slammed a hand against his knee, derailing his thoughts.
“What’s going on, friend?”
Oh, let’s see, I care about my claim and it’s scaring me half to death. “Nothing much. Glad to see Keara’s better.”
“So am I. They’ll die for it.”
“As it should be.”
Thoren ran a hand through his hair. “How’s Lily?”
“Fine. She seemed to like flying.”
“Good.”
Thoren did another hand-through-the-hair routine. Since when did his best friend get nervous? He followed his friend’s gaze until it landed on Keara. Oh. That explained things. No doubt Thoren had the night’s activities front and foremost in his mind.
“Keara,” Thoren’s voice broke through the flickering flames of the fires, causing all sets of eyes to turn to him. “I need to speak to you. Would you follow me?” Standing, he gestured toward the woods behind the campsite.
With any luck, tonight Thoren would realize Keara was his mate. Provided the knowledge got through his best friend’s thick skull.
A hiss and barely audible growl snapped his head toward Fafnir. The dragon stopped munching on a deer carcass, staring at where Thoren and Keara disappeared into the wooded darkness. A small stream of smoke trickled out his nostrils. Growling again, steam circling his snout, the dragon grabbed his dinner and leapt into the air, wings flapping eddies of dirt and grass.
“What’s wrong with him?” Lily sat across the flames from Enar.
“Why did he fly off like that?” Jamie asked.
“Why do you think I know?” Enar shrugged, wondering the same as the others. He didn’t know Fafnir, but the dragon’s actions seemed strange.
Maybe it had something to do with spending all those years locked in a cell.
Enar shivered. How the dragon managed not to go crazy from years of no exercise was over his head. So if Fafnir wanted to fly off in the middle of dinner, more power to him.
“I’ll go refill the water bags.” Lily gestured in the direction of the stream flowing several yards past the tree line as she rose and grabbed the bags.
Her dark clothing disappeared into the shadows, her white hair bobbing like a lantern in the da
rkness until the thick trunk of a tree swallowed her from view. Enar felt a cold pit form in his stomach. What if something happened to her? What if the Draconi Keara saw in River’s Run followed them and took Lily?
“Jamie, you are not allowed to leave this campsite. If you need to relieve yourself, go no farther than that tree there,” he pointed to a tree at the edge of clearing, one that stood in the light of the fire, “Do you understand?”
“Yes. Where are you going?”
“To make sure Lily is all right.” Standing, he strode in the direction Lily went. “I’ll be back.”
“Enjoy your alone time.”
Enar stopped and turned to see Jamie’s lips fighting a battle not to smile. “What?” What did a boy his age know about “alone time”? “Never mind.” Slicing his hand through the air, he turned in the direction he’d been heading and followed Lily to the stream.
She knelt beside the small stream, a water bag immersed in the slow-moving water, the smell of dead vegetation thick in the air. He watched her for a moment, his claim, his exquisite woman. A snap of a twig under his foot caused her to jump, dropping the bag in the water.
“Enar! What are you doing here?” She glared at him before retrieving the bag from the stream. “Besides getting me wet?”
His lips twisted. Oh yes, he’d like to get her wet. Just not in the way she referred.
Huffing something that sounded suspiciously like, “men,” Lily marched over to him, wet water bag dripping, and slapped the bag against his chest.
“Hold that, please.”
Turning, she marched back to where the other bag lay and proceeded to soak it in the stream, filling it.
Enar looked at the dripping bag clutched against his chest and stared at the petite woman who put it there. His woman seemed to have a spark of fire in her. Like his mother.
He shook his head at the thought, vanquishing it. He didn’t want to think of his mother or where she lived. Those thoughts led back to Lily’s questions.
“Why did you follow me?”
He shrugged and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Alone time.”
She pulled the bag out of the stream and turned to stare at him. Thin light dappled her face, obscuring her expression, but he thought he saw a brow rise. The water bag dripped on his ruined leather shoes as he crossed his arms and stared back. She didn’t need to know that was the second idiotic thing he’d said in the last two days, right behind, “sure you can pack a bag.”
Warrior Lover (Draconia Tales) Page 8