Dragon Touch (Soul of a Dragon Book 1)

by Ashley Frost

  Josephine allowed her braid to fall. Her friend had topped the end off with a bright, red flower. “All done.”

  She smiled up at Josephine. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, you look so pretty. I’m almost jealous.” Josephine clasped her hands together.

  A trumpet blew and the music stopped.

  Anna stood. “That’s the signal They’re calling for us to assemble.”

  Constance swallowed. Her stomach grumbled, and not because she was hungry.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?” Josephine asked. “You look pale. Paler than dear Marzia here, even. It’s like all the color just washed from your face.”

  She raised a hand. “I’m fine.”

  Soon, people filled the grassy clearing. No empty space, except for an area where the council stood, was left open. Steps were placed at the back so the people there could have a better vantage point. Those people wouldn’t be able to hear very much, however. They were too far away from the announcer.

  Thankfully, Constance and her friends managed to secure a spot closer to the front. They could hear the balding man quite well.

  “The time has come again for the Offering,” his husky voice bellowed. He spoke through a horn-like, hollowed device which projected his words farther. It was curved and had to be placed on a table because no normal human could carry it long enough to give a speech. “The dragons have blessed us with light in darkness. They are our saviors in times of need. They gift us with metals from Falron, the city across the High Mountains. They protect us from droughts and storms. We must respect them, revere them, and treasure them. Treat them well, and they will treat us well in return.”

  It sounded like horseshit to Constance. She knew the relationship between the humans and dragons was mostly political. Humans enjoyed worshiping greater beings as gods, however. It made them feel good knowing something more powerful than them was on their side.

  “On top of coin, the dragons have requested the daughters of our lands. For they are mighty, as well as merciful and generous, we must thank them for their years of service and blessings. Today, after five long years, the council will present our daughters to the great rulers of the sky.”

  An echo of the speech rang faintly in Constance’s mind. She heard it a few times before. The words had not changed much despite many years having passed.

  The announcer continued, “Many fine women have volunteered for the Offering, and for that, we thank you. Your sacrifice will be cherished, and the folk of our lands will continue to strive because of it. We hope that you are all assembled here, properly dressed and ready for this great undertaking. I will soon be passing the attention to Lord Heaton. He will read your names from this list in my hand. When your names are called, please step into this clearing and assemble yourselves into organized rows. The dragons will arrive soon, and we will like to make this experience pleasant for them. Lord Heaton?”

  A thin man dressed in fine robes stood. He stepped toward the voice-projection device and took the list from the announcer. After sucking in a deep breath, he called the first name. “Daughter of Everndale, Priscilla Treinne.”

  The noble girl was standing right in front, next to her plump father. Priscilla Treinne excitedly, yet nervously, shuffled into the clearing. A shaky smile graced her lips. She was gorgeous and incredibly well dressed. Constance clenched her fist over her heart. She didn’t stand a chance against girls like her.

  “Daughter of the southern province, Justina Hawthorne.” Even the village girl dressed better than Constance, with a full head of flowers and a silky white dress, which her family must have spent far too much on.

  As the night darkened, more girls streamed into the clearing. A good half an hour had passed and nearly fifty girls stood there. Likely, another couple hundred girls waited. Constance looked upon their eager faces and thought about how bright these women appeared compared to her dull, anxiety-filled face.

  “Daughter of the west-eastern province—” Constance’s chest tightened; that was the first she heard of their location “—Marzia Forrester.” Her eyes darted to Marzia. The poor girl was chewing on her nails. Marzia’s face drained to a ghostly shade.

  “It’s okay. You’ll be all right.” I’ll be up there with you soon , she thought, but didn’t say. She gave Marzia a reassuring push and her friend stumbled forward.

  “Daughter of the west-eastern province, Constance Rinehart.”

  All her friends’ eyes flew to her. Constance gulped.

  “You’re a sacrifice?” Josephine screeched, a horrified look splattered over her face.

  “I have reasons.”

  “You could have told us earlier!” Anna said.

  Lord Heaton stopped calling out names, and instead said, “Will the two daughters of the west-eastern province please enter the clearing? Should you change your minds now, please be reminded that the penalty for non-compliance is costly.”

  “Well?” Anna raised a brow.

  “Well what?” Constance asked.

  “Do you have anything to say to us?”

  “I better go.”

  “That’s it?” she heard, as she grabbed Marzia’s hand and pulled her friend forward. They shoved themselves past the crowd, and a cool breeze brushed her skin once she entered the open space. The crowd had been hot and humid, smelling too much like sweat.

  But there was no time to relish the cool air. They had to get in line. The sacrifices had already formed two rows. She hurried her way to the back row as the lord called the next name on his list.

  “What were you thinking?” Marzia said, more angry than scared. “The village needs you. You’re the one taking care of the sick.”

  Constance heaved. This was really happening. “There won’t be any taking care of people if we run out of money. And we’re running out of money. If I don’t get selected, Eduard won’t be able to buy herbs this winter, and you know people tend to fall sick during the winter. We can’t do much healing if we don’t have the supplies.”

  Marzia gave her a wide-eyed stare. Then she relaxed. “But Eduard needs you. Do your parents know?”

  Constance looked down, guilt swarming her chest. “Eduard took care of the village before I arrived. He’ll manage fine without me.”

  “They don’t know? Constance—”

  Before Marzia could finish her sentence, the same loud trumpeting that played earlier burst through the clearing.

  “Dragons,” Marzia said.

  Constance turned her head toward the sky, searching for the mystical beasts. Her eyes barely made them out at first. Then, as they descended, their enormous forms grew more defined. The scaled creatures loomed overhead, almost covering the moonlight. A bluish dragon was the first to fully descend from the clouds. Its size left her frozen in fear and awe. A red one was next, and the black dragon came last.

  The Black Menace. Rayse himself.

  Stillness flooded the field. The appearance of these dragons left everyone gaping and silenced. Her eyes transfixed on the black dragon. A pulse beat through her body. It called her toward Rayse. Was this the effect of sighting a dragon? Was this normal? Why did Rayse in particular draw her attention? She realized she cared little for the red and blue dragons.

  She wanted Rayse.

  All she needed was the Black Menace himself.

  What? She’d merely gotten a glimpse of the creature. Did all the other girls feel this way too?

  No, no, NO! An unfamiliar voice screamed in her ears. It was almost deafening.

  She cupped her hands over her head and yelped. “What was that?”

  Her yelp drew the attention of Marzia, although barely. “You said something, Constance?”

  “A voice. I heard a voice. Did you hear one too?” She tried to control her breathing, realizing how panicky she sounded.

  Marzia finally ripped her gaze from the dragons. “Do you need to sit down? You look very pale.”

  “Can you hear it? Can you?”

  Marzia shook her
head. “I hear nothing. Although there is this strange feeling.”

  “When you look at the Black Menace?”

  “No, the blue dragon.”

  She frowned. Something was horribly wrong. “Make it stop,” she said.

  “Make what stop?” Marzia asked.

  Run, run, RUN! The voice echoed in her head. She grinded her teeth together. “My head hurts.”

  The dragons flew into the forest and out of sight. As soon as Rayse disappeared, the voice quietened, as if in shock. But the silence didn’t last for long.

  Constance watched the forest, her tension rising. The voice re-awakened abruptly, screaming in her head like a constant ringing. Stop, she wanted to shout back, but she knew doing so would make her look like a lunatic amongst the crowd. What was that voice? It was beginning to feel familiar, but she was certain she’d never heard anything like it before. An unexplained sense of déjà vu crept at the corners of her mind.

  He will lead to your demise, it said. Rayse emerged from the forest with his two subjects trailing behind him. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and her mouth grew dry. He sauntered toward the clearing in his human form, confidence and command brimming from his skin. He seemingly towered over all the humans, even from the distance. He dressed ruggedly. The leather he wore was worn down with scratches, and belts which bore weapons were haphazardly strung around his body. He was large, and his height became more apparent as he strode closer.

  He dressed and walked like a human, and he bore humanly features—eyes, nose, lips—yet he reminded her of nothing human. His body emanated strength and power. He moved with the grace of an animal—no, a predator.

  Run, run, run, the voice urged. Constance’s cheeks flushed. She wrapped her arms around herself and sucked in a deep breath.

  As he drew close, she could tell he was studying the crowd of women. Lord Heaton had broken into a speech, welcoming the dragons, but her clouded mind prevented her from paying any attention. Rayse, the Black Menace, appeared to not care for the speech either. His eyes were fixated on the women, displayed for him like meat on shelves. If he decided to take all of them, she doubted the city council would care as long as their trade route remained intact.

  As soon as her eyes lay on him, she knew this beast could have whatever he wanted.

  Why was he studying other girls? A sinking ache started in her belly when she realized she didn’t want Rayse to look at the other females. She wanted his attention all to herself.

  And then she realized he had given it to her.

  Marzia’s voice, calling to her, was a faint echo.

  She could barely focus on any sounds—not with his eyes raking over her hungrily, and not with their gazes locking. He was beautiful, with dark hair and a form as sinewy as a lion’s. His features were sharp, chiseled, and elegant at the same time. Just his appearance made her mouth water. She wanted to brush her hands through his hair. She longed to kiss the corners of his lips, and ached to have him take her into his arms and show her the pleasures—

  Immediately, a rush of sensations coursed over her. The tips of her fingers tingled while a wave of heat rushed to her center.

  “Oh my God,” she murmured, sweat beading on her skin. “What is happening to me?”

  Was this dragon magic? She didn’t feel normal. Never did thoughts such as these cross her mind. Boys hardly intrigued her. She wasn’t one to fawn and fantasize about delicious men.

  But Rayse looked oh-so delicious.

  Do not let him near you! The voice thundered through her thoughts. Listen to me, Constance, please. You must not bed him. It will be the end of you.

  “Who are you?” she asked, before being able to catch herself. Her lungs swelled, making it hard to breathe. The village girls were going to think her mad for speaking strange words aloud. Perhaps she was. She couldn’t keep her mind straight.

  Remember my words. Do not let him mate with you. Now, RUN.

  Everything seemed to pause as her eyes traveled up Rayse’s body to meet his gaze again. His cold, unwavering eyes seemed to pierce through her. As gazes locked, another pool of sensations electrified her insides.

  “Constance? Constance!” Marzia shouted. Her friend’s sharp voice forced its way through her confusion. She realized her body had bent halfway toward the ground, as if it were in pain.

  Was it pain? It felt too good to be that.

  She tried to shake off the sensations, and in a jolt, instincts took control of her limbs and she ran. She ran as if being chased. The cloth of her long dress nearly made her trip. Hastily, she tore the bottom of the dress off for better movement. Was she going crazy? Voices in her head were telling her what to do. She should be wanting to be chosen. She needed the money to save her village, and yet she was running away. Why?

  Although confused, her instincts pushed her forward. She found her way toward her house and swung the door open. As she dashed inside, the voice spoke again, more faintly this time. Hide.

  Constance dashed across the living room, knocking some bowls and herbs off a table as she did so. She flung herself into her room and shut the door behind her. What was she running from? Rayse? Would he even give chase to a silly young village girl like her? Panting, she knelt to the ground and shuffled underneath her bed. She intended to wait out the ordeal, which mostly came from her head. Eduard and Karsi were going to come home after the Offering and find her in her room, tucked away like a scared mouse, and then give her a stern questioning. She prayed that would happen.

  The front door slammed open, and her heat skipped a beat. Her parents always entered while saying something to announce their return home. This was a stranger. Or the wind? She heard footsteps. It couldn’t be the wind.

  The sound neared, and the door to her room creaked open. She spotted the stranger’s bare feet. Trembling with fear, she brought her fists to the sides of her face. Noticing a broken piece of wood sticking out from her bedframe, she tried to reach for it.

  A hand grabbed her and drug her out from under the bed. She screamed, reaching for the broken wood. The momentum of the stranger’s pull didn’t give her enough time, and wood’s splinters scraped her fingers, drawing blood. She flinched at the sharp pain.

  She was face to face with her captor, blood dripping down her fingers and onto the ground. Looking at him again made her moan—possibly with fear, but mostly with halfhearted, foreign delight. His muscles felt taut when pressed against her body. And…

  …and she could feel his growing erection nudging her thigh.

  Escape! If it had a body, the mysterious voice would be thrashing with panic.

  She couldn’t listen to it, not with Rayse so close, tempting her with his intense, passionate look.

  “Oh,” she whimpered. Her knees nearly folded in on themselves.

  He glanced down, looking at her cut fingers. They hardly bothered her now. He growled. The guttural sound made her center ache. She tried to fight her lust. She tried to fight her need to mate with this man.

  “Why hurt yourself, love?” he said. His voice was low and rough, yet music to her ears. “Let me take you home.”

  “Yes,” she uttered in almost a whisper before raising her arms and wrapping them around his waist.

  Then her eyes shut, and she fell to blackness.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It is no secret that dragons require female human sacrifices. Centuries ago, the event known as the Offering did not exist. Dragons used to take women whenever they saw fit, just as they took their prey. The missing girls had caused much chaos and grievances to the common folk. The best example is that of Princess Haylia. The princess was taken by a dragon on her wedding day. This led to a lack of a clear ruler for Yvrdeen and twenty years of civil war. Upon acknowledging protests from the city council after making an alliance with them, the Black Menace, Rayse, proposed the Offering. With that, he revealed why human females were commonly abducted. Less than 1 percent of dragonlings are female. Thus, the males of their species are commonly
forced to find companionship amongst mankind.

  Constance woke to the soft touch of wet kisses trailing down from her chin to her collarbone.

  “Mmmm,” she hummed.

  “I’m sorry, my love,” a throaty voice said. Desire laced the man’s words. A tongue forced its way into her mouth.

  Wait. Where was she? Who was this man? She pried her eyes open and found Rayse’s chiseled face. The crease in his brow cut deep into his forehead. He grunted and grit his teeth, as if fighting back pain.

  “I don’t want to do this,” he said.

  She found herself on a soft bed. The heat between her legs ignited once more. Squeezing her thighs together, she attempted to soothe the warm ache. Her back arched, and she bared her bare breasts to Rayse. Gasping, she realized her clothes had been torn off. She hated the lack of control. She knew she was being taken advantage of, but her body didn’t care. He released her from the kiss, leaving behind the lingering comfort of his warm lips. This time, the voice in her head was hers. Yes, take me, yes…

  “More,” she begged. She didn’t mean that, did she? Nibbling her mouth, she searched the back of her mind for the voice who warned her of Rayse earlier, but it didn’t come. All she found was a lingering, fading sense of disappointed and dread.

  Then, he entered her. The intrusion came suddenly. It tore and stretched her. Pain shot through her center, but it was quickly replaced with mind-numbing, overwhelming pleasure. Her body softened as she moaned in unanticipated delight.

  She wanted to say stop, but the pleasures didn’t allow the word to be uttered. Instead, her toes curled and she muttered pleas of lust, urging him to continue pounding her. He filled her completely. Karsi had warned her of the pains of losing purity, but the sharpness went as soon as it came. She experienced a tight, knotting sensation that drove her mad.

  As he grunted, his large, coarse hands wrapped around her arms in a bruising grip. He was hurting her, but she couldn’t care. The ache only added to the emotions drowning all her sensibilities. She bit his shoulder, needing to anchor herself. To what? Rayse?