If he’d only reached the royal boundaries a few minutes sooner, none of this would have happened.
She had to be Lily’s sister, Embrlynn. He’d noted the similar facial structure and shape of her lips. A longing, to run his tongue across those plump contours as he wrapped her in his safe embrace, overwhelmed him.
Bakka’s jaw clenched. Tasha had already frightened the young female plenty. And now the maniacal bitch wanted a royal virginal heart for dark magick. It made terrifying sense.
Like hell he’d let her near his precious princess again.
My future bride. Bakka felt it in his very soul.
Embrlynn would be his, as soon as she reached her majority. Until then, it was his responsibility to protect her.
Damn it. He needed Zane close enough to incapacitate him. And he had to work fast, before Tasha returned with another member of the Rogue of Eight.
Images of the dead warlock hanging limply from Kord’s massive dragon jaw flashed across Bakka’s mind. He bared his teeth in a grim smile.
Make that seven.
“What are you grinning about?” Zane asked, his quivering voice giving away his nervousness.
He shrugged. “Thinking about what a chickenshit you are.”
Zane shot a quick glance at Embrlynn, a scarlet flush crawling up his neck.
She kept her face turned away. Smart of her. A humiliated bully was a dangerous bully. Bakka wanted Zanralth to strike out at him, not her.
His dragon edged closer to the surface.
“Did Tasha take your balls along with her when she left, you asshole?” Bakka provoked the dolt on purpose.
A soft giggle sounded, quickly cut off when Embrlynn covered her mouth and turned aside. There was no missing the way her slim shoulders shook a bit with her mirth.
That did the trick.
“Shut the hell up.” Zane stomped closer, his dagger raised.
Lunging forward, Bakka caught Zane’s wrist. With a quick twist, he jerked the weapon from his grasp and spun him around, angling the sharp blade against the pulsing vein in his neck. “Go ahead. Move one more inch.” Bakka jiggled the knife until it left a nick under Zane’s ear. “You should have bound my wrists, you worthless stain.”
At least the fool was smart enough to understand the seriousness of the situation. He immediately froze in place.
“Unlock the ankle cuff,” Bakka spat.
Zane’s gulp was audible. “I—I don’t have the keys.”
Frustration roiled through him. He’d been afraid of that. He’d just have to make do. Palming the knife, Bakka whipped his arm around Zane’s neck and squeezed in a strategic place. Zane struggled, then slumped as he passed out from lack of air.
Although Bakka would like nothing better than to gut this scrawny-ass dragon, he wasn’t a murderer. Instead he chose the smarter path and dropped the unconscious Diablian to the floor.
He met Embrlynn’s wide-eyed stare. “Are you all right?”
Tucking a golden curl behind her ear, she nodded. “Are you?” She pointed to his hand.
Bakka’s dragon purred at the gentle sound of her voice, those dulcet tones like the sweetest of music.
His entire world realigned. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for this tenderhearted female. Fight for her. Die for her. Whatever was necessary to assure not one hair was harmed upon her beautiful head.
“I’m fine,” he promised, glancing down at the chain on his ankle.
The dagger wasn’t very big, but hopefully it’d do the trick. Three strikes later, and only a few cuts to his skin, the metal clanged to the floor. There was no way he’d damage Embrlynn’s pretty ankle in the same manner. He had to find the keys.
As if reading his thoughts, she spoke again, and once more his dragon rumbled in satisfaction, even closer to the surface this time. “After she chained me, that horrible female tossed the keys over there.” She indicated a cluster of nearby rocks.
Bakka found the keys nestled between them, then turned back toward Embrlynn. “I won’t hurt you. Please don’t be frightened.”
No fear showed on her face when she looked at him. His heart beat faster as she murmured, “I’m not scared any longer.”
Hurrying over, he knelt before her, and subtly inhaled the intoxicating scent of flowers as he released her ankle. His dragon demanded instant retribution when he spotted a red mark against her ivory skin.
“You’re hurt.” Lifting her slender foot, cradled in a feminine pink slipper, Bakka caressed the damaged area. Before he thought better of it, he leaned down and soothed the minor injury with gentle lips.
Her sharp inhale brought him back to his senses. His gaze shot up, afraid he’d frightened her. When their eyes met, it definitely wasn’t fear he saw. No, Bakka’s dragon preened to see interest, along with a spark of desire in her curious regard.
As delicate and sweet as a blossoming bud, she needed to be nurtured and protected. His urgency to care for her swamped him. He’d bide his time until she was ready.
What was that old Earth adage? Good things come to those who wait. Standing, Bakka held out his hand. “Come, princess. I’ll take you to your sister.”
Her rush of sudden tears had him wanting to kick his own ass. Overcome by realizing she was his future mate, he’d made a huge blunder.
“I don’t understand.” Her voice trembled.
He cupped her cheeks between his palms, swiping at the flood of tears with his thumbs. “I traveled to Anglican to collect you and your parents, and escort you safely to Battle Draconian.” He hesitated, caressing her damp cheeks. “Lilliaa’s alive, princess. I promise. We can send word to your parents and have them escorted there.”
Her tears slowed, and the grief in her eyes receded. Satisfaction spread to every cell of his being. Even if she didn’t recognize him as her mate, the sleeping dragon inside her sensed it.
“Alive. How?” Wonder filled her voice.
He tugged her toward the entrance. “I’ll explain on the way.”
Even as the words left his mouth, he knew it was too late as Zane awoke and immediately shifted to dragon. Bakka didn’t stand a chance against him while he remained in his human form.
Tucking Embrlynn behind him, he assumed a battle stance, calling upon his dragon to come forth. It was time. And just like that, he shifted, mindful of the treasured young female behind him, reveling in the power that flooded his bones, his muscle. His blood.
If the situation hadn’t been so dire, with his mate in danger, the flash of surprise in Zane’s reptilian eyes would have been comical. Especially followed by the cowardice the twit revealed when he figured out he was in for a real battle and not the easy conquest he’d visualized.
My dragon is damned enormous, was Bakka’s initial thought. Bigger than Zane’s. And behind him, Embrlynn trembled yet remained calm. She had faith in his ability to protect her, and he wouldn’t let her down.
Zane threatened his mate. She wasn’t safe as long as the bastard lived. “You first.” Bakka’s snarl vibrated off the cavern walls. “Then the female traitor who leads you around like a pet.” He lifted his impressive wingspan, stretching his neck forward, and let out a mighty roar.
Zane, coward that he was, squealed like a shatooth toadmouse and spun on shaking legs, lumbering out the wide opening and taking flight.
Unwilling to leave his mate unprotected, with a silent curse Bakka let him go.
Chapter 15
Growling a streak of the foulest obscenities he could dredge up, Kord raced for the entrance, stopping short when his father stepped in his path and grabbed both his arms.
“No, Kord—”
“She’s got Bakka. You think I don’t recognize his ring?” Kord struggled against his sire’s iron grip. “Let go, damn it.”
He renewed his struggles. “Let me go!”
That was all he managed to spit out before the entry alcove filled with orange flames. Kord found himself flat on his back with King Droc, in all his dragon glory, sitting on him.
“Impulsive pup. This is how you get yourself killed. Bakka lives. You think I would not know, the instant my progeny is no more?” He adjusted his bulk, forcing an angry grunt from Kord’s squashed lungs, and had the nerve to emit a rough snicker. No doubt delighted at his dominance as reigning king and resident badass dragon.
“For all that’s . . . let him up, Droc,” Kord’s mother demanded.
Kord’s ire melted when he saw her wiping tears from her cheeks. Next to her, Lily stood in support. Her eyes mirrored the pain they were all experiencing.
“All right,” Kord said, resigned. “I won’t run. Or shift.”
His father nodded and released him. “I will gather my freicia guard and we’ll search. You will remain here and protect your queen. And your mate.”
Even as Kord geared up to protest, his father’s brow-scales snapped down, his gaze stern. “As your king I command you. Until the day your queen and I step aside at your formal mating ritual, you will obey.” He paused before adding, “I understand, my son. Truly. This is not yet your fight, though you seek to claim it. He’s your brother, yes. But this is my son, and therefore, my battle. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, my king.” Although it galled Kord to remain behind, his father was right. The safety of his mother, and his mate, must come first.
How he wanted to be the one to find Tasha, and throttle her.
Kneeling, Kord assumed the position of deference. He dropped his chin to his chest and clasped his hands low at his back. Raising his eyes, he met his king’s fiery stare. Though he wanted badly to speak, he instead glanced at his mate. She left the queen’s side and approached him.
Rising, he gently drew her behind him, then held his hand out to his mother. Silently, she glided toward him, and he maneuvered her next to Lily.
“I’ll protect what is ours, my king.”
His arms around Lily and his mother, holding them close to his heart, Kord watched from the safety of the caverns’ entry as his father met the royal freicia guard in midair. Flying in battle formation, they faded into the horizon.
Then Kord jerked in surprise when a new, yet strangely familiar cry rent the air above their heads.
“Stay here,” he urged. Rushing outside, Kord prepared to shift.
Halting, mouth agape, he raised stunned eyes to the heavens as a majestic dragon glided into view, easily identifiable as a male. His wingspan, almost as impressive as Kord’s, held striations of silvery green that edged into deepest umber.
Emitting a victory shriek, the dragon dropped gracefully until he hovered several yards from Kord’s head. One wide, green-striped eye flickered over him in what appeared to be a wink.
A head of tousled blond curls rose from between the dragon’s wings, and blue eyes peered down with curious, albeit cautious regard. That petite, straight nose—that wide, captivating smile—
Those eyes.
“Lily! Mother!” Kord shouted as the dragon gained the ground ten feet in front of him. He didn’t have to catch the scent that wafted his way on the warm breeze, before he knew.
Impatiently he waited until the dragon shifted, revealing a naked and grinning Bakka. As Kord strode forward to greet him, his brother ducked behind a boulder and emerged wearing a black robe.
Kord spared a wide smile for the young, pretty female who could only be Lilliaa’s sister, then swept Bakka into a bone-crushing embrace. Freeing up a hand, he caught Embrlynn’s arm, tucking her close.
The girl reddened, then brushed a quicksilver kiss to Kord’s cheek, before a scream of, “Embry!” broke the thick silence, and Lily rushed from the cavern entry.
His mother hurried behind, sharing in Lily’s joy. Fresh tears shimmered in her eyes when she beheld Bakka, whose finger had thankfully regrown during his shift.
Arms slung over each other’s shoulders, Kord and Bakka watched the wet-eyed reunion. Their queen stepped close to enfold Bakka, as Lily guided her sister to him, her cheeks glistening and a smile brighter than two suns curving her mouth.
“Kord, I’d like to present my sister, Embrlynn, who—” She faltered and gulped on a sob, starting a chain reaction that turned on a waterfall of even more emotion from all three females.
With a chuckle, Kord gathered Lily in one arm and Embrlynn in the other, both clinging to him, while his mother leaned against Bakka’s shoulder and scrubbed the edge of her gown over her cheeks.
Bakka eyed the females helplessly. “Good gods, if I’d known flying back would’ve caused this much drama . . .” He turned toward Vining Lake, tilting his head. “Father comes with the freicia.”
Their mother straightened, instantly assuming her royal mantle. “Your father was alerted to the commotion.” She stepped out of Bakka’s careful embrace. “Lilliaa, Embrlynn . . . King Droc and I will travel to your home and personally inform your parents of your rescues.”
She ran her palms over her hair and down the front of her gown. In a few seconds, it was as if she hadn’t cried a single speck. Clear eyes, dewy complexion, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle to be seen; regal from head to foot. With a kiss to Bakka’s cheek and another to Kord’s, she glided away to meet her mate.
“How does she do that?” Bakka marveled. Then he glanced at Kord with a grin. “I shifted. I told the dragon to come out and it burst forth.”
Kord slapped him on the shoulder. “That you did, Prince Bakkailin. I’m damned proud of you.”
Bakka forked a chunk of boarbeast from his plate and laid it on Embrlynn’s, adding a few roasted tubers, smiling when she blushed and murmured her thanks. Across the wide table, he caught Lily’s wink and fought down his own heated flush at being caught doing something so blatantly mate-like.
By serving Embrlynn from his own plate he’d made his intentions obvious, beyond the twinge of certainty he felt each time he gazed into her big blue eyes. It was more than her flowery scent, the vulnerable curve of her throat, his need—at times, desperate—to protect her, care for her.
His hands were mostly tied. Completing his first shift only made the urgency stronger, because now his dragon demanded what it knew it couldn’t yet possess.
To distract himself, he broached the subject everyone at the supper table had so far avoided, preferring a celebration instead of a somber meal. “Nobody’s asked yet what happened.”
Kord fiddled with a stripped femur bone, before tossing it on top of the growing pile in the center of the table. “We already know it was Tasha.”
Bakka pointed to the signet ring back in place on his regenerated digit. “Somehow she had taken out the guard faction on the main parapet. That alone would require a hell of a lot of power. She used magick to remove my finger. I felt the same surge when she ambushed me after I stepped on Anglican soil. I was powerless to stop her. Not sure she did it, though I suspect she had help.”
Embrlynn piped up next to him. “She did.”
As all eyes swung to her, she flushed brightly then cleared her throat and whispered, “I-I kind of helped her because I believed the note she sent to me. It said Uti wanted to talk to me.” Her gaze flickered to her sister’s shocked stare.
“Oh, Embry. You know better,” Lily chided.
“Uti?” Bakka frowned as he turned to his re
d-faced future mate.
She ducked her head. “I have, um, liked him since I was very young. He’s of Anglican, a third son of the Marshollaze. I thought he’d finally returned my—my . . .” She trailed off, gesturing weakly.
Instant jealousy flooded Bakka, compounded by the inner rumbling his dragon emitted. He had competition for his princess’s affections? No way.
Before he could show any outward reaction to her innocent statement, Kord jumped in. “So, you read the note. I assume it came with some sort of instruction?”
Embrlynn nodded, visibly miserable. “I was to meet him beyond the western pasture. I never thought . . . It didn’t occur to me any danger lurked. I never stopped to wonder why he’d ask to meet me.” She scrubbed tears from her eyes.
Bakka’s nails dug into his palms. That the hateful creature caused this precious treasure a second of pain was more than he could deal with. “Tasha will pay for her treasonous actions,” he vowed, low in his throat.
“Embry, you could have been killed. That’s at the very edge of guarded land, and dangerous for you to wander there.” Lily turned to Bakka’s father and appealed, “How could this happen?”
“The strongest magick,” Mother inserted before his father could respond. Her expression revealed her extreme distaste. “The Rogue of Eight. That’s how. Singly they are fairly powerful, but together they could easily create illusions, make anyone see whatever they wish them to see. Tasha would have promised them something highly desirable, to tempt them into following her demands.”
“My heart,” Embrlynn squeaked in a thin, broken voice. Her damp eyes flashed with ire. “I’m young, not stupid. I know what value that coven places on a pure, royal heart.”
Realm of the Dragon (The Soul Mate Tree Book 1) Page 12