by Meara Platt
Obsidian black and fathomless.
Lord Bloodaxe quickly introduced her to the other two who appeared to be fairly young demons. One had dark hair that was almost longer than her own locks, and the other had blond, wavy hair that fell just below his shoulders. He introduced the dark haired one as Andronicus and the light haired one as Dalgwynn. “All of them were once men. As was I.”
Was that a hint of wistfulness she’d detected in his voice?
“Captain Artemis was a knight in service to the Duke of Poitiers. Captain Andronicus commanded a Roman legion in Jerusalem. Captain Dalgwynn led several successful Welsh uprisings against the Marcher Lords who protected the English borderlands. The Welsh revolt failed once he was killed. In losing him, they lost their best military tactician.”
Georgiana pursed her lips in thought. “I know it is rude of me to ask, but how do men such as you come to be here? How is service to your liege lord not honorable?”
Lord Bloodaxe placed a hand lightly on her arm. “Not all who pass through the Underworld are dark souls. This is a conversation for another time.” He turned away from her and began to give orders to his captains and his steward about the repairs to be done to his bedchamber tower. “Thomas, prepare the south chamber. Lady Georgiana and I shall sleep there until the repairs are completed.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. She wanted to protest, but thought better of it. Instead, she purposely kept her mouth shut. Expressing displeasure would only call more attention to their situation which was scandalous at best. She was an unmarried woman sharing quarters with a man… demon… Dragon Lord.
Mother in heaven.
Would anyone believe her tale, assuming she ever made it home to tell it?
Although these beings now thought of her as their possible savior, Lord Bloodaxe still meant to treat her as his captive. He might consider his nightly presence in her bedchamber as necessary for her protection, but the fact remained that she was subject to his will, and he was not letting her out of his sight.
She considered ordering Thomas to arrange separate beds for them, but chose to remain silent about that as well. She had already spent a night alone with their liege lord. Whatever damage to her reputation had been done. Far more important was the fact that she had not been damaged in any physical way. Lord Bloodaxe had fashioned a pallet for himself by the door and given up his bed to her last night. She had been the one to leave that bed and huddle beside him on the floor to seek the warmth of his body and security of his arms.
Her stomach began to twist in knots.
Would she do the same tonight?
If anything, the yearning to lie in his embrace intensified with each passing moment in his presence. Even now, the urge to melt into his arms overwhelmed her. But she was not so foolish as to do anything about it.
No, indeed!
She clasped her hands together to keep herself from reaching out to him, and then stood quietly beside Charon and Styx while Lord Bloodaxe reviewed the destruction with his captains. He assigned a task to each of them. Captain Artemis and his men were to clear out the rubble, and with the help of stone masons, rebuild the tower. Captain Andronicus was to secure the fortress and hunt down as many of Brihann’s spies as could be found within its walls.
She couldn’t hear what he commanded of Captain Dalgwynn, but saw the captain nod solemnly and stride out in a hurry. “Come, little savior. Take a walk with me in the garden.”
Perhaps he meant only an affectionate jest in calling her that, but it distressed her all the same. “I’m no one’s savior. I can’t even save myself. I couldn’t lift any of your weapons and almost put out my back lugging the few I could manage into position.”
She noted the glint of amusement in his eyes, but in the next moment his expression turned contemplative. “The Stone of Draloch did not bring you here because of your physical prowess.” But his gaze was approving as he slowly and discreetly raked it over her body.
She sensed the heat in his gaze signified more than mere admiration.
She tingled every time he looked upon her.
Mother in heaven.
Her own betrothed had never once made her feel this way. Oliver. What was she to do about him, assuming she ever escaped the Underworld? She suddenly gasped. “Has this changed matters? Will you still help return me to my home?”
Instead of responding, he led her down the tower steps and through the main hall. His dogs followed, taking positions on either side of her, but one walked slightly behind her while the other walked slightly ahead.
Lord Bloodaxe paused a moment to address the servants and his other subjects who had gathered in the vast hall to seek refuge from the dragons that had soared overhead a short while ago. “All is safe now. You may go about your duties. But before you do, I would like you all to meet Lady Georgiana. The rumor swirling about her is true. She is the young mortal who just bested Necros and survived his dragon fire.”
Some of his subjects fell to their knees while others attempted to rush toward her to touch her, but his dogs growled at any being who dared come near. “She is beautiful, my lord,” several murmured as they bowed to him and then to her.
Others wept. “She will save us.”
Lord Bloodaxe surprised her by his kindness to his subjects, much as a king might walk among his subjects and inspire them with his mere touch. Nor did the regal aura of the hall escape her notice either. To her surprise, the stonework, elegant columns, and stained-glass windows reminded her of a charming, old English castle or a magnificent abbey.
“They think I’m special. You should not have introduced me as you did.” She frowned at him when he did not respond. When that failed, she tipped her chin up in indignation. “You must tell them the truth, correct their wrong impression. I’m merely an Englishwoman.”
“They won’t believe me. They know you are more important than any of my nymphs.”
Ah, his concubines. Even as they made their way through the swelling crowd, some of the demons were eyeing her with an avidity that made her skin crawl.
Lord Bloodaxe would have to be as dense as a post not to realize her displeasure. Was he purposely ignoring the leers she was receiving?
“They are looking upon you in adoration. Most are, anyway. Stop pouting and follow me.” He held out his arm to her in an unexpectedly courtly manner so that those watching would understand she was a lady and he meant to treat her as such even though he had yet to formally acknowledge her as anything more than a guest. They must all believe he had already bedded her.
But he didn’t slow his steps, and she had to scurry to keep up with him. She had no time to view the rooms they strode past. Some had rich carpets covering the floors. All was a blur, but she could not overlook their surprising opulence as glitters of gold and silver and crystal flashed before her eyes. “Your fortress is as elegant as any of my father’s homes. Perhaps more so. I did not realize Dragon Lords lived as finely as dukes, even princes for that matter.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Even beasts enjoy the finer things. Although, in truth, these trappings of wealth are more for show rather than for my own satisfaction.”
She nodded. “I understand. It is meant to convey power and the depth of your resources should anyone attempt to attack you.”
“It discourages the lesser demons, but is meaningless against Brihann.” He led her through a room that could have passed for an elegant London townhouse sitting room and crossed to the tall, glass doors that opened onto a terrace. Beyond the terrace was a garden as lovely as any she’d seen in England. “Surprised?”
She nodded.
They descended a row of stone steps to the garden, the dogs now bounding ahead with a playful eagerness that belied their ferocity. While his beasts ran back and forth along the grass, chasing each other and then pausing to sniff along the sculpted bushes, Lord Bloodaxe slowed his pace to a leisurely one so that they now strolled along the flower paths instead of racing through them.
Perhaps he’d
purposely brought her into the garden to soothe her frayed senses, for her heart was still tight and racing after her encounter with the yellow dragon. “You survived, Georgiana,” he said quietly, placing his hand lightly at the small of her back in a gesture of assurance.
She nodded and returned her attention to the garden. The flowers were beautiful, but there were strange plants she did not recognize along with the many that she did. She noted the blood-red roses, pink lilies, silver foxglove, and pale purple periwinkles that seemed to thrive despite the lack of sunshine.
How odd that they should bloom so robustly under a red sky and the light of the two moons?
But there were oddly shaped flowers of russet and blue and deepest black with eyes in their petals and leaves that reached out to touch the hem of her gown as she passed. They seemed to be alive, small creatures rooted to the ground. A few even seemed to have teeth, and she was careful to step well away from them.
Lord Bloodaxe’s lips were pursed as he resumed his earlier thought. “One would think Brihann had learned his lesson after the Fae victory, but it merely drove him further into darkness. His madness now has him in an unbreakable grip.”
Georgiana was pleased that he was talking to her about the frightening incident and wished to encourage him to tell her more about this strange world. “How did the Fae defeat Brihann?”
“The Stone of Draloch, as ever, guided them. Lord Mordain and I were there to witness his defeat, our presence having been commanded by Brihann himself. He thought he’d lured the Fae king, Cadeyrn, into a trap and meant to use his victory to coerce us into joining him in war. Mordain and I had yet to be convinced that his endeavor was other than an old man’s folly.”
“What happened?”
“Brihann killed his own dragon mate, Ygraine, with his dragon fire.” He paused a moment as though expecting her to understand the significance of that act, but continued when she obviously did not. “In doing so, he unwittingly fulfilled the ancient prophecy and handed the Fae their victory. His demon forces watched the moment unfolding and began to retreat in panic. All knew of the words written on the Stone of Draloch.”
She listened intently as he continued, eager to absorb all she could of their lore and the Stone of Draloch. “The ground quaked and I thought the Underworld would break apart in a great cataclysmic roar. No dragon has ever murdered his dragon mate. To this day, he has shown no remorse for this act against Ygraine. Nor does he understand that he alone led to the Fae victory and our near destruction.”
Georgiana’s hand trembled as it rested on his forearm. “Is a dragon mate similar to a wife?”
His gaze upon her remained thoughtful as he nodded. “Yes, but she is much more. The union of a dragon to his mate is no mere marriage of convenience or business arrangement designed to unite families and secure land holdings. When a dragon takes a wife, it is for eternity. For this reason, his selection must be based on love. He must know to the depths of his being that she is the one for him. From the moment he takes his marriage vows, there will be no other woman for him and can never be again.”
“Is it the same for his mate?” She tried to keep the surprise out of her voice, but likely failed. Women were taught to keep themselves chaste, but no one ever frowned upon a man who spread his seed wide. At worst, he might be considered a rake. Even married men took on mistresses to tend to their carnal pleasures, and it was accepted among those in elegant society.
“I do not know.” He considered her words a moment longer and nodded. “But I think it must be.”
She could not quite bring herself to believe that Lord Bloodaxe would forsake his nightly trysts with the beautiful nymphs at his beck and call for the love of one woman. But he appeared to be sincere as he continued to explain. “Once they couple, their union is unbreakable. A dragon may have a heart that beats within his chest, but the dragon’s true heart is now his mate. When she dies, his grief is unbearable.”
Her eyes grew wide and she gaped at him. “I don’t understand. Why would you then pledge your heart to a woman? Why would you agree to a few years of happiness knowing it can only lead to an eternity of sadness?”
Even as she spoke those words, she realized it would be no difficult choice for her to make if she were ever faced with it. She’d held out for love, hadn’t she? Rejecting suitors because she wanted a marriage bound by more than columns of ciphers and land holdings.
Sadly, she’d betrayed her feelings by giving up on her convictions and accepting to marry Oliver. Mother in heaven. She couldn’t bear to have him touch her now. She wanted… no, it was not a thought worth completing.
Or rather, the thought was too dangerous to complete.
“Why would I sacrifice my happiness?” There was a husky sensuality to his voice as he broke through her thoughts to reply to her question. Its deep rumble flowed through her body, stirring her as though his lips were on her skin and pleasuring her with fiery abandon. His gaze fixed on her, the turbulent swirls of his blue eyes seeming to reach out to drag her into their depths. “Because her love is worth it.”
Oh, mercy. She was going to fall in love with this man if he didn’t stop talking soon. Had any knight in shining armor ever sounded so chivalrous? The pulse at the base of her throat began to beat furiously. She swallowed hard and a sigh or two might have escaped her lips.
Lord Bloodaxe’s gaze was smoldering. “You asked me earlier if I was still going to help you escape.”
She bobbed her head up and down, for words failed her at the moment. She doubted her ability to string together a coherent sentence.
“I will help you.” He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. “It was my intent from the moment I set eyes upon you. My instinct, which rarely fails me, is still telling me that I must continue in this task. You do not belong in this wretched world of demons.”
“I don’t?” She slipped out of his grasp and turned away to hurry down the gently curved garden path toward… she didn’t know where, only that she had to get away from him before he noticed her own broken heart. Which was a ridiculous way for her to feel about Lord Bloodaxe. She didn’t want him. She was glad he meant to help her escape and even gladder that he had dismissed her as his possible dragon mate.
So why was her body crying out in sorrow?
“Georgiana, stop.” He grabbed her hand and wouldn’t let go, forcing her to come to a halt. “Did you misunderstand me? I said I would help you escape.”
“I heard you.” She tried to squirm away before he noticed the tears glistening in her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry, of course. The notion that she would was absurd.
“Why are you overset?” He appeared genuinely confused.
In truth, so was she.
“I’m not,” she insisted, concentrating on her toes. She was fighting the ridiculous impulse to behave foolishly and knew she’d make an utter goose of herself if she dared to look him squarely in the eyes. How could a demon make her feel this way? She wanted to throw her arms around him and beg to be allowed to stay. This desire to remain with him made no sense at all. No doubt, he’d be appalled if she ever made her feelings known.
Indeed, she was appalled by her wayward thoughts. His world frightened her, but she felt as though she could endure anything while he was by her side.
“Georgiana?”
Oh, my. The husky rumble in his voice was once again soothing and devastatingly alluring. “Perhaps I am a little overset,” she admitted. “The way you spoke about your dragon mate just now… it’s what I’ve always wanted. But I betrayed my principals and was ready to settle for someone I didn’t love. I’m ashamed of myself. More so because I thought of you as a soulless creature, but I, not you, am that very thing.”
He ran the pad of his thumb gently across her cheek. “Do not judge yourself too harshly. You’re not wrong. All demons are creatures with damaged souls. Many have already lost their soul and will never reclaim it.”
“But you still have yours.” She finally mustered
the courage to meet his gaze. If one looked beyond the layer of ice, one would find the heart of a gallant warrior.
He frowned. “Don’t mistake my ability to reason for anything more than it is. I am a demon. I kill if I’m challenged and feel no remorse for my acts.”
“Then why are you so gentle with me? Is not such tenderness reserved only for your dragon mate?”
He drew his hand away. “Let’s walk. I need to consider how to slip you out of here unnoticed.” He continued to glance at her from time to time as they made their way deeper into his garden. His dogs had stopped running about and were now stretched out and panting beneath a nearby shade tree. Lord Bloodaxe spared them a passing glance, but his attention was mostly on her. “Seems your gown is too long. I’ve noticed that you keep tripping over the hem as you walk.”
She nodded. “It is nothing. I can fix it later.”
“You?”
“Yes, me.” Once again, she tipped her chin up in indignation. There was a dismissive quality in his tone that rankled her. “All I need is a needle and thread to… Why are you smirking?”
One of his dark eyebrows arched up. “Am I? I hadn’t realized I was.”
But she was determined to disabuse him of the notion that she was helpless in all things. “Do you believe I am useless because I’m a duke’s daughter?” She placed her hands on her hips and frowned at him. “I’ll have you know that my parents did not pamper me. I learned to sew and knit and embroider. I also learned to cook and bake.” She paused, realizing that she may have taken offense when none was meant, and cast him an impish smirk. “Although I would not wish my biscuits on anyone. Cook broke a tooth when she tested one of them.”
She simply melted when he graced her with a wickedly delicious smile in response to her admission.
“That bad?” The seductive smolder in his gaze sent her heart into palpitations.
She cleared her throat. “I was also taught how to manage an estate and keep accurate ledgers. They trained me to be a capable consort to… Why are you smirking at me again?”