by Meara Platt
Stone of Draloch, I ache for this girl.
She was still huddled so close to the edge of his bed that the slightest movement would send her toppling to the floor. “This bed is all yours, Georgiana. Make yourself comfortable in it.”
“How can I when it is your bed?”
“It isn’t mine this evening.” But he could not deny his torment. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and draw her up against his body. He wanted to claim her. Possess her. Spill his dragon seed into her. But that would be an incredibly dangerous mistake. She’d already smashed his iron control to bits.
He didn’t dare couple with her.
She’d destroy him completely.
Her golden hair spilled across his pillow. Her womanly body was curled in a kittenish ball so that she looked small and lost amid the ocean of his satin sheets. Moonlight shone upon his bed, surrounding both of them in its gentle glow.
His blood was on fire.
He silently called out again to the Stone of Draloch. Why have you brought Georgiana to me? She can only weaken me when I must be strong for battle.
To his surprise, the Stone of Draloch responded. Do not be foolish, son of Draloch. She is your greatest gift. Do not make her your greatest tragedy.
Cursed stone! It spoke in riddles, never offering a clear path or a logical plan of action. What was he to do with Georgiana? Succumb to his dragon lust and claim her for his own? Ignore it and free her? He didn’t know how best to keep her safe. “Georgie,” he said in an anguished whisper, calling her by the name he’d used upon sealing their betrothal when she was but a babe in swaddling clothes.
Had anyone else ever called her that?
Perhaps her betrothed had done so, using it as his pet name for her.
His dragon rage ignited once more and he could not tamp down the urge to torch the blackguard with his dragon fire. Mine. She’s mine.
Behave, son of Draloch! The Stone of Draloch was still in his head and reading his thoughts. But never offering help.
Why should I behave? What will you do to me? What can possibly be worse than what you’ve already forced me to endure?
The stone turned ominously silent.
“Georgie,” he whispered again, reaching out to make certain she was still there and not swept out of his life as suddenly she had been brought into it.
She said nothing.
Exhaustion had finally conquered her. She had fallen asleep, the peaceful sleep of the innocent.
In the next moment, he heard her soft snores.
Stay. Stay with me, Georgiana. He thanked the Fates that she was still beside him.
How long before he lost her again?
*
“I’m so sorry,” Georgiana said with a gasp, quickly shaking off the remnants of her morning haziness. She rolled to her knees and stared down in horror at Lord Bloodaxe’s big, muscled body. His hugely muscled and shirtless body.
Did the man have no proper bed clothes?
“Oh, my goodness. I don’t remember climbing out of bed.” Had she spent the night on the floor beside him? Worse, had she slept all night with her body scandalously curled around his? “I… I must have grown cold.”
It was an utterly ridiculous lie and he knew it.
He smirked and did nothing to hide his amusement. “In this stifling room?” He rolled to his feet, seemingly unaffected by her nearness or touch. Her heart was wildly leaping in her chest so that she could hardly catch her breath. Still smirking, he casually crossed to the large windows to open them and allow in a breeze.
He remained standing by one of the windows, his assessing dragon gaze fixed on the mist rising over the distant forest and thankfully not on her.
She had yet to recover from her embarrassment. Her voice was tight as she asked, “What are you looking at?”
He continued to scan the landscape. “I’m searching for signs of Brihann’s demons. They must have been camped on the borderlands last night, but I still don’t see them.”
“How can you find them through that layer of gray clouds? Perhaps they withdrew, assuming they were ever there.”
“They were and still are.” He inhaled deeply.
“What are you doing now?” She marveled at how finely sculpted his warrior body truly was. There was nothing soft about him other than the occasional softening in his glance toward her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
He remained by the window, standing as tall and proud as a monument. Indeed, he appeared to be shaped of granite and covered in taut, rippling skin.
Nicely bronzed skin.
Nothing pale or delicate about him, and yet there was no denying his regal elegance.
He inhaled again. “If they are out there, then their foul scent will give them away. Demon stench lingers in the air.”
She quietly approached him, feeling quite small now standing by his side although she was of average height by London Society standards. “I don’t smell anything. Do you?”
“Aye, I do.” He glanced down at her and grinned. “It’s your scent that fills my nostrils.”
She gasped. “Mine?”
He caught her by the waist when she tried to draw away.
She squirmed in his arms. “Let go of me, my lord.”
Instead, he laughed and drew her shamefully close.
She tried to push off him, but realized her mistake at once. His skin was warm and inviting. His muscles were… Mother in heaven. “I haven’t bathed yet. Don’t you dare breathe me in.”
“You mistake my meaning, Georgiana. Your scent is that of wildflowers and strawberries. Do you think any demon ever smelled so sweet?”
She stopped struggling but eyed him warily. “Then you weren’t referring to my foul stench?”
“No.” His regard almost appeared tender. “You are a rare nectar meant to be savored.”
She knew he had to be teasing her once more, for only her parents had ever considered her rare or special. She was desirable to others because she was the daughter of a wealthy duke and considered pretty. She was not a perfect beauty like the young women considered Incomparables.
But Lord Bloodaxe sometimes looked at her as though she was. A rare nectar? The idea was laughable. “Do not compare me to drink or food,” she teased, her humor returning as the shock of her scandalous thoughts began to diminish. “I am not a drink to quench your dragon thirst or food to satisfy your dragon hunger.”
“Georgiana.” He spoke her name with an aching growl. “One taste of you would never be enough to satisfy me.”
His voice resonated through her like a caress. No! Was she mad to have such feelings for a demon lord? “Why? Because I’m too little and bony.”
“Aye, that.” He lightly tugged on the sleeve of the shirt he’d loaned her. “Your strawberry scent clings to my shirt. It is all I will have to remember you by once I return you to your family.”
She gaped at him.
A flame of hope kindled in her heart. “Then you truly meant what you said? You will take me home?”
“I gave you my oath. How many times must you hear it before you will believe me?” He appeared sincere, but could she ever trust the word of a demon? Yet, there was something about Lord Bloodaxe that inspired confidence. “You were a gift to me and mine to do with as I please. It pleases me to deliver you back into the arms of your family.”
“Thank you.” Relief washed over her. She hadn’t believed him yesterday, not completely. She hadn’t believed him until this very moment.
But having survived the night alone with him and knowing he’d behaved honorably even when she hadn’t, somehow made his words ring true when they hadn’t before. She rubbed her eyes as tears suddenly welled in them and began to spill onto her cheeks. “I thought I was trapped here forever.”
Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest thing to say to him.
He’d been nothing but protective and respectful of her. He’d treated her wounds with gentle care. “Not that you make me feel trapped. You don’t at all… not very much. Tha
t is, I understand why you’ve confined me here. For my own protection. It isn’t your fault that I can’t leave your bedchamber. Or that you’ve ordered your dogs to stop me if I try.” She was blathering, somehow demeaning his generosity because her gratitude sounded like an insult. Perhaps this is why she’d remained a spinster until Oliver had come along.
She sighed. “You have a way of overwhelming me. I suppose you do that to everyone. I’m terrified of remaining here. I’m terrified that you will change your mind. I’m terrified that–”
“Enough, Georgiana. You won’t be here much longer. I’ll get you out.” His blue eyes grew dark and angry. “It is not me who traps you here. Do you think I enjoy playing nursemaid to you? You’re a distraction and a nuisance. I wish to be rid of you as soon as possible.”
There was a look of impatience in his eyes.
She held her breath.
No, it was darker than that. Perhaps anger or frustration.
He looked angry enough to eat her.
After a moment, she released the breath she’d been holding. “I’m so sorry that I’m a nuisance to you. It’s my fault, I know. I’ll do my best not to get in your way. Oliver didn’t have much use for me either.”
“Oliver? Your betrothed.”
She nodded. “An arranged marriage. After five seasons, my family despaired of my ever making a match. You see, I’d held out for love.” Heat rose in her cheeks. “A silly, hopeful dream. But I never felt anything for any of the gentlemen who courted me, so I finally gave up and settled for the amiable companionship Oliver offered.”
She frowned and pursed her lips in thought. “You may think me foolish for what I am about to say. I’ve never experienced love, but I know in my heart how it should feel. At least, I think I do. Sometimes I feel as though I have experienced it, but I don’t know where or when.” She had been staring at her toes as she spoke, but now looked up at him.
She couldn’t make out his expression, only that he no longer appeared angry. The frightening darkness had faded from his eyes. “Lord Bloodaxe… I…”
She turned away and gazed at her toes once more. How could she tell him the rest of it? He’d laugh at her and call her a fool.
How could she tell him what she did not believe possible herself? But there was no overlooking their connection. She dared not call it attraction.
He was a demon.
And yet, he was something more.
Someone important to her.
How was he important to her?
Chapter Four
In this moment, Bloodaxe wanted to tell Georgiana the truth. In this moment, he wanted her to know that he was once Arik Blakefield, the one meant to be Duke of Draloch and her betrothed. He glanced out the window at the two moons that always shone in the red sky. Bright by day and dim by night, but always there.
Always a reminder of the life he’d given up when following his little brother into the Underworld to rescue him. Saron.
He had succeeded in saving his brother, but had paid an enormous price for it. By rescuing Saron, he’d condemned himself to this brutal and soulless Underworld existence.
Even so, he would do it all over again without a moment’s hesitation. It mattered not that Saron hated him and had sworn to kill him on sight. That hatred sprang from Brihann’s evil doing, a monstrous act purposely designed to keep the Draloch brothers from ever uniting.
Two black dragons shall reign supreme.
Two black dragons shall unite the worlds of demon and man.
But which two?
He, Saron, and Brihann were the only black dragons. Three dragons. The words of the prophecy mentioned only two. Which two? He and Brihann who could unite both worlds by demonic conquest? Or was it possible that he and Saron would reconcile and unite both worlds by truce?
The Stone of Draloch could be interpreted in many ways.
What was Georgiana’s part in his destiny?
He fixed his gaze on the moons that sat well above the horizon and towered over the thin tendrils of mist still clinging to the forest treetops. The mist was heavier than usual this morning. There was a dampness to the air which meant rain was in the offing.
The heat was already oppressive and stuck to his skin.
He glanced at Georgiana who was staring at him with her innocent green eyes and stirring his dragon lust.
There was no time to dwell on thoughts of her exquisite body, for a hot breeze now carried the scent of demon toward him. Brihann’s demons were finally making their presence known.
There was no chance of taking her to the Razor Cliffs and freedom now. But he had a week before he was due to return to Brihann’s palace for a war council with the other Dragon Lords. Seven days to form a plan to help Georgiana escape the Underworld.
However, this was not his only concern.
A great war was about to break out between the realms of man and demon, if Brihann had his way. How was he to keep Georgiana safe once she was out of his realm?
“My lord, is something wrong?” Georgiana was studying his scowling face and must have noticed his subtle tension in his stance. “What do you see out there?”
“There isn’t much to see yet. But the day is young and the thick clouds will disappear once the storm passes. Ours is the same as your English rain. Just water and nothing for you to fear.” However, he’d just caught Brihann’s particularly foul scent and he was a creature to fear.
Why was Brihann out there?
It was one thing for the High King to send his demon scouts to spy on him, or to send his demon armies to block his path to the Razor Cliffs, for that was the access to the demon portal opening onto Friar’s Crag. Georgiana’s home was not far from that ominous red mountain no mortal man ever dared go near.
But it was quite another thing for Brihann to actually lead his demon armies. There was only one reason for it.
Georgiana.
He swore silently.
She had to escape the Underworld this very day.
Can I not have even one more day with her?
He knew the answer, and the Stone of Draloch’s silence confirmed it.
Georgiana was not meant to remain with him.
She had spoken of love and betrothal. Perhaps she would not know love with the one she called Oliver, but it was best for her to go through with the wedding. Brihann would lose interest in her once she was wed to another.
There was no question that Oliver would marry her. As the wealthy daughter of Penrith, she would still be desirable to her betrothed. The blackguard would overlook all scandal to have her dowry.
He fought back the urge to kill Oliver.
The man would soon have Georgiana.
He sorely wanted to kill Oliver.
“You’re angry again.” Georgiana placed her small hand on his arm.
“Not at you.” Keeping to his purpose and helping Georgiana escape was no easy matter now that Georgiana had lain beside him. She’d sought him out in her sleep last night, coming to his side in tears and pain.
“My arms hurt,” she’d said.
He’d wrapped her in his embrace so that she might be soothed by the heat of his body, by the dragon fire she aroused in him.
Could he ever give her up now? The insistent urge to possess her, the unrelenting need to claim her for his own, grew stronger with each passing hour.
All the more reason to give her up now.
Another day. Another hour. And he wouldn’t have the strength to let her go. He’d felt the soft perfection of her body against his and knew she was meant to be his dragon mate.
Brihann knew it as well and now meant to take her from him to use as a weapon against him. This must have been Brihann’s purpose all along, to give him the hope of love and then snatch it from him.
Keep Georgiana safe.
She was his weakness.
She drove him mad with wanting.
Madness surely had taken hold of her as well last night. Had she been awake, she would never have walked
over to his pallet and stretched out beside him. By the Stone of Draloch! She’d settled atop him so that her breasts were pressed against his chest and her slender legs entwined around his thighs.
She’d burrowed against him, clutched his shoulders, and held on as though she never wanted to let him go.
He did not think she could have acted so foolishly on her own.
Was the Stone of Draloch responsible for this mischief?
Or had Georgiana’s heart led her to his side?
Dragon Lords were demons of the highest order, creatures of an ancient heritage who conquered and plundered. It would have taken nothing for him to roll her onto her back and bury himself deep inside her body.
Perhaps the same madness that lured her into his arms also prevented him from taking advantage and claiming her for his own.
There was no other explanation for his decision to rein in the violent urge to mate with her. “Are you hungry, Georgiana? Cook will have left a tray for us by the door.” He needed time to think.
He needed time to teach her to defend herself.
She nodded. “Famished.”
He crossed the room in three strides and paused at the heavy wood door. “I want you to eat quickly and get dressed.”
“Very well, but I have no clothes. What am I expected to wear? Do you have something more colorful than your black shirts?” She grinned at him, but it quickly faded when she noticed he wasn’t in good humor. “We’re in danger again, aren’t we?”
He decided to tell her the truth. “You’re in danger. You must be ready to leave here at a moment’s notice.” He whistled sharply, summoning Charon and Styx who had been standing guard beside his bed to protect Georgiana.
They had quietly followed her to his pallet last night, but he’d ordered them to stay back. He hadn’t wanted their big bodies snorting and drooling atop him.
No, he’d only wanted the pleasure of her soft body against his own. He’d been lulled into a peaceful sleep by her light, breathy snores against his ear.
When had he ever slept so contentedly, even if it was only for an hour or two?
His dogs now took up positions in front of Georgiana so that they stood between her and the door.