by Bonnie Vanak
Then his shudders slowed, stopped. He looked down at her, and the flare of tenderness there surprised her. Then it vanished, replaced by masculine satisfaction.
“I love watching you come,” he said roughly. “Your eyes grow so blue, your cheeks so rosy. I just want to eat you up.”
He flashed a wicked grin. “I’ll save that for later.”
Panting, she stared at him, touching his jaw. “That’s some secret weapon you hide, dragon.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Only when I’m with you, Em. Only you.”
Sweat sheened his face, plastering his hair to his forehead. She knew exactly how much effort he’d used to leash the dragon.
Slowly, he slid out of her. She winced at the pull of her sore muscles. His expression became tender as he cupped her face in one strong palm.
“You okay?”
Roughness and male satisfaction edged his voice. She nodded, turning her face into his hand with a small sigh.
I love you, Em. You’re the only one for me.
What? She raised her head, saw him studying her.
“Did you say something?”
I did, but not with my mouth. Oh, can you turn back this way. I simply adore the view of your very sweet, very sexy breasts.
Alex!
Em…
You’re inside my head!
He grinned wickedly. “Yes, I was, just as I was inside your body, and will be several more times this night. I told you, Em. We’re soul mates.”
Marveling at this news, she lay back down. Soul mates. But what did that mean for their future? Alex had a duty to marry Sabrina.
“Can you read my mind if I don’t want you in there?”
“No.” He looked solemn. “Only if you invite me inside your thoughts.”
“Ok.” She imagined something and he looked stunned. Alex laughed.
“You are naughty. You want to try that? On all fours?”
“I can be very athletic,” she offered.
He gathered her into his arms. “Perhaps later, when you’re not so sore, sweetheart.”
They lay together, her head pillowed on his broad shoulder, as moonlight spilled into the room.
“When I return, I shall ask my father permission to break my engagement to Sabrina, so you and I can marry.”
Her breath hitched. “You will?”
Alex pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “How can I marry another woman, Em? I never wanted the marriage in the first place. It was only for the sake of the kingdom.”
“The kingdom is very important,” she said slowly, not wanting to get her hopes up.
“Not as important to me as you are.”
Emma wanted to curl up next to him, absorbing his toasty warmth, let the air cool the sweat on his body.
And then she wanted to love him all over again, after tonight, she wondered if they would ever be together again. For if King George rejected Alex’s request, would Alex still go through with his plans to marry her?
Chapter 9
They reached the castle of Clan Drakon at sunset the following day.
Alex shifted into Skin soon as he landed, not bothering with formal wear, but choosing mere jeans and a black T-shirt. As the guards hurried from the palace, he squeezed Emma’s hand. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m here and I will not let anything happen to you.”
She wanted to trust him, believe he could do this. But too many years of conventional prejudice against half-bloods ran through her mind. Clan Drakon was best at protecting and defending. But why would they choose to protect a hapless bunch of half-blood dragons and a little troll girl?
“Your Highness!” The guards bowed low. “We were so worried about your safety. Your father has sent sentries to find you.”
Alex clapped a hand on the shoulder of the concerned guard. “No need. I’m here now, and I’ve brought guests.”
The wide double doors of the castle banged open. King George and Queen Alyssa hurried outside. Alex gave her hand a comforting squeeze before pushing forward, leaving her with the group of girls. Then, to her astonishment, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
Uncertain as to what to do, she walked backward, as to not display her hindquarters to royalty, and joined the other girls, bowing their heads.
“Sire, Madam. I formally request permission to admit these refugees to our clan for protection, per the Order of the Honorable Standard.”
He raised his head and she saw his entire body tense. “They were found in a brothel, about to be sold as sex slaves. Including the little troll girl.”
“Alex.” The queen’s voice trembled. “Oh Alex, I am so thankful you have returned to us, safe and unharmed.”
“Are you all right son?” the king asked.
Alex stood and he seemed to tower over all of them, the king and queen, and the various courtiers who had now assembled behind them. In the crowd she saw the dark head of Maurice, Alex’s cousin. Of all those who had beaten her, his punches and kicks had been the most painful.
Emma fought the instinctive need to hide. Instead, she raised her chin and stared straight at him, as if daring him to make a move here against her.
“These females have been abused and abducted against their will. They were taken to a brothel of such foulness, that I shall not speak of the evil I saw there, lest I offend the delicate sensibilities of some of the women present, including you, Mother.”
Emma bit her lip, hiding a smile. Oh Alex, you are so theatrical! But it worked, for several women gasped and she saw Maurice step back, his expression no longer furious, but worried.
“I request refuge and asylum for them because Clan Drakon is the protector of all dragons, not merely full bloods. If we are to help unite all the clans, should we not act with mercy and justice to those who have been wronged? To innocents whose only crime is that they were born of half-blood?” He went to their little group and picked up Alice into his arms and then once more stood before his parents.
“This little troll girl is no more than 10. She is an orphan, who was to be sold into sexual slavery. She has no family to vouch for her. Does that make her need any less than a full-blood dragon? Since no one will vouch for her, I shall. I am formally adopting her as my daughter, and giving her the protection of my crest and my name.”
Gasps sounded among the crowd. The king and queen looked as if someone had either slapped them or shoved a stick up their butts. Or both.
Emma tasted tears in the back of her throat. This was the Alex she knew and loved, the champion who treated all equally. He would make a fine king, if given the chance.
“Alex.” Even from a distance, Emma could see the queen’s distraught expression. “My son. Of course she is welcome here. They all are welcome here. I accept your order of Honorable Standard as per the rules of our clan, and welcome these females into our clan.”
“I as well,” echoed the king, but the king looked far more troubled than his wife.
Alex handed Alice over to a waiting attendant. “Put her in the Red Room next to my quarters. Bathe her and dress her for the night. She is tired and needs food and rest.”
He pressed a kiss to Alice’s forehead. The little girl clung to him.
“No, please don’t let me go,” she wailed.
Alex kissed her forehead again. “You are safe here, Alice. I give you my word of honor. This kind woman works for me. She is going to feed you and bathe you and give you nice, comfortable pajamas so you can sleep in a room near mine. You can have anything you wish.”
Alice raised her face. “Even chocolate truffles for dessert?”
“Scads of them.” He ruffled her hair. “I shall check on you later when I can.”
When Alice left, clutching the hand of the servant, he went to their group and drew her forward. “Mother, Father, this is Emma of Clan Ciamoth, servant to Princess Sabrina, my intended.”
Nice intro. Servant. Humiliation crawled over her. But Emma waited. Alex had a purpose. He always did.
“As servant to my intended, she knows intimately the needs and wishes of my betrothed. Her quarters are to be next to mine, in the Red Room, where she shall stay with Alice. Alice knows her and feels safe with her, and I want my new, adopted daughter to feel comfortable in her new home.”
Not a request nor a wish, but a statement. Emma nearly sagged from relief. The other girls were safe wherever they were housed. She was more vulnerable. But now, in a room next to Alex’s, she was safe. And by formulating it in terms that she was to care for Alice, a task she gladly embraced, he avoided the delicate diplomatic dilemma of his father protesting her presence close to Alex’s quarters.
A true diplomat. Alex turned, addressing the other half-dragons, but he winked at her. Emma beamed at him.
The smile dropped as she caught Maurice glowering at her as if he wanted to personally stab her through the heart and turn her into dragon shish kebab. Emma’s spirits sank. Alex still had to address the issue of his friends and cousin. They said among dragons that blood was thicker than scales.
And both of those were quite weak in her.
Servants came forward to escort her into the castle. Alex sent a quiet message to her using their telepathic link. Don’t worry, Em. The Red Room has a door connecting to mine. You’ll be safe, both you and Alice. I have to meet with my father, but I’ll see you soon. Get some rest.
You promise. This kind of communication was scary, but fascinating. What are you going to tell him?
I’ll let you know later. Go, get some rest.
Disappointment filled her. He’d made no remarks about what would happen to her, if she should return to Sabrina and her clan, who wouldn’t allow her back, even if Sabrina wanted her. Because her dragon’s egg was devoid of magick now and a dragon without magick was like a wolf without teeth.
Both were destined to be kicked out of the pack.
Would she end up homeless and alone, the very fate she’d dreaded since the day her mother died? Alex had made no promises and she couldn’t ask anything from him. Though they were now lovers, and it seemed they were destined mates, he still remained the Crown Prince.
Emma tried to control her rapid pulse as servants escorted her through the main hall, a cavernous room with soaring ceilings and a fireplace big enough to roast an ox. If one ever did roast oxen.
Her own castle was large, but conventional, without all these weapons. She flicked a glance at the scowling guards, armed with machine guns, standing at rigid attention on either side of the hall.
Clan Ciamoth had no such guards. Even the sentries at the entrance held no weapons. They were merely for show, not a display of might.
Not this clan.
She wondered what life had been like for Alex, growing up here in the warrior clan of dragons. Always drilling and doing military maneuvers. Duty and honor.
Never fun. Nor love.
The maidservant, in a black dress with a white apron and a little white cap, escorted her up a winding staircase to the second floor. At the end of the hallway she opened a door to an enormous room decorated in crimson.
Emma could not help her gasp.
Never had she seen such opulence.
Crimson silk wallpaper covered the walls. The furniture she recognized as antique, perhaps a suite of Turkish furniture from the 18th century. There was a fireplace with the furniture tastefully arranged before it, with an Italian marble mantel. Sitting on it was a Louis XVI clock.
The four-poster mahogany bed with the flounced canopy looked like something out of a dream, with soft white sheets. Servants scurried to set up a small trundle bed near it.
Looking sleepy, Alice sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace, her legs tucked beneath her, her head pillowed on her arms. Emma forgot her awe and hurried over to her.
When the trundle bed was ready, she picked up the little girl and placed her upon it, removing her shoes and stripping her down to her shift. As Emma tucked her in, Alice opened her eyes.
“Are you going to stay here with me, Emma, and keep the bad men away?”
Throat tight, she nodded. “I’ll be here with you, sweetie. Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone hurt you and Alex won’t, either.”
Crouching down, she stroked Alice’s black hair. “I’m so sorry about your daddy. I don’t have a daddy, either.”
Alice blinked sleepily. “Did your daddy want to sell you to the mean men, too?”
Emma frowned. “No, I never really knew my daddy. What do you mean, Alice?”
But the little girl had fallen asleep.
Emma picked up the nightgown the maidservant had laid upon the bed for her. It was made of the prettiest blue silk, and felt delightful against her fingers. She placed it back upon the bed and sat in the settee near the fireplace, staring at the flames.
She wondered if the servants had lit the fireplace by breathing flames onto the logs, a talent she did not possess. Alex certainly would not care.
But would his parents?
“Preposterous.”
Alex stared at his sire, the monarch, the king who was the absolute, supreme authority over Clan Drakon. He had just told his father his plans to marry Emma, and not Sabrina.
“You cannot marry and mate with Emma. That is my final word.”
“But sir, Emma is my soul mate. Do you realize that this means?”
“It makes no difference.” King George leaned forward in the chair in his private library. Tongues of red flames licked at the fireplace logs greedily. Chest tight, Alex regarded the king. He had known how his father would respond, but held out hope. A dragon’s soulmate was sacred.
Except, it seemed, if she was a commoner, and a half-blood to boot.
“Your duty comes before personal feelings, Alexander. I appreciate your chivalry in rescuing her, and the other girls kept captive, but it ends there.”
The king drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Did you sleep with her?”
Alex stiffened. “That sir, is none of your business.”
“You did, for the only true way to tell if she is your soulmate is through sex.” The king’s mouth twisted in a humorless smile. “I knew this to be true with your mother, that she was not my soulmate. How I wished otherwise.”
Parental sex was not what he wished to discuss. “Emma is a good Other, with a kind heart and she is intelligent and strong. She will make me a good partner and mate and she will treat all dragons, full-blooded or half-blooded, as equals.”
“Perhaps. But as mate to a non-royal, not my eldest son and my heir.”
There was an ominous note his father’s voice previously lacked. Alex fisted his hands in his lap. “What does that mean?”
“Mate with her, marry her, but do so without your title. If you proceed with this insane plan of yours, you will no longer be my son.”
“Father, are you serious? I am of your blood. Your eldest son!”
“Then don’t do it,” the king hissed. He sat back, looking weary. “Marry Sabrina as planned. Rule over Clan Ciamoth and make Emma your mistress. You may sleep with her on the side. Hell, boy, you can even outfit her in an apartment close to the palace.”
Alex felt as if he wanted to retch. “You would have me dishonor my vows to Sabrina?”
George waved a hand. “Kings in our family have always had mistresses. It is an accepted practice, as long as one exercises discretion.”
Now nausea did churn in his stomach. “Did you have one, Father?”
The king looked away. “One hundred and fifty-one years is a long time to be mated and faithful.”
Not for him. Not if he mated with Emma. With Em, he could be with her 1500 years and never grow tired of her, nor dishonor their union by taking another woman into his bed.
“TMI,” he muttered. “And you accuse me of neglecting my duties.”
“This is not about me, Alex. The fate of the two kingdoms rests with you.” George stood and Alex knew this meeting was over. “Choose wisely, for you seal the fate of thousands, not merely
yourself. But if you proceed with this absurd plan to marry Emma, I shall disinherit you. You will lose everything. Your title, your belongings, your gold.”
The king took a deep breath. “And your entire clan. You have until noon tomorrow to give me your decision.”
His father left the library, softly closing the double doors behind him.
His kingdom or his love. One of them he’d be forced to lose. And he couldn’t decide which was more important. If he chose love, then he abandoned his people and the fight for change, and the opportunity to create equality for all dragons like Emma.
If he chose his kingdom, he’d lose Emma. The thought of her mating with another, another male seeing that joyous smile, the sleepy passion in her eyes after sex, and her belly growing round with another male’s child…it drove him mad.
For a long while Alex sat, staring into the flames. Watching his future go up in smoke, wondering how he could break the news to Emma.
Chapter 10
Alex had not come to her last night.
She’d waited for two hours, and then, unable to remain awake, dressed in the nightgown, climbed between the sheets and fell asleep.
Much later, she heard a noise in the room and opened one eye, eager to see Alex. Silhouetted by the light of the dying embers in the fireplace, he tiptoed over to the trundle bed, and pressed a kiss on Alice’s forehead.
He did not approach her bed, nor even inquire about how she fared.
Emma fell back asleep, tasting tears in her throat. The audience with the king must have been worse than she imagined. Or perhaps he didn’t wish to awaken her.
But deep inside, she knew it was bad.
Grayish light peered through the crack in the brocade drapes when Emma awoke the next morning. She glanced over and saw the trundle bed empty, and neatly made.
Emma pressed a hand to her temple. Alex? Alex, why didn’t you wake me up last night? Where are you? Is everything okay?