by Meara Platt
Bloodaxe shook his head and chuckled. “Aye, you are right as always. Now that their stomachs are full, I can see that they’re eager to satisfy their other appetites.” The castle nymphs were just as eager to oblige them. Better they attend to his men than seek his attention.
Although he hadn’t taken Georgiana as his dragon mate, he’d quickly found to his dismay that it made no difference. He could not rouse his desire for another. The beautiful nymphs who had nightly pleasured him no longer held any appeal.
The dragon in him would have none other than Georgiana to ever warm his bed.
One of the nymphs began to dance around him, rubbing her breasts against his shoulder. Charon growled at her and she hastily shifted her attention to his more appreciative young captain, Dalgwynn.
He patted Charon’s head.
His dogs were under the dining table, seated beside his feet.
“I know you miss her, too.” He tried to put Georgiana out of his mind while he returned his attention to the latest raiding party they’d just encountered. Brihann was tossing demons at him without much purpose other than to irk him. He was using them as little more than cannon fodder. Necros and Python, always his toadies, had their demon soldiers doing the same.
Dalgwynn and Artemis had each wiped out a raiding party earlier this evening and suffered no injuries among their men. Indeed, each had returned victorious from yet another foray. He’d congratulated his men and made certain they were met with a hearty meal and entertainments to keep their spirits high.
But he did not like this increase in tensions among the Dragon Lords. It did not bode well for maintaining the fragile order in the Underworld. Most who resided within the five realms were damaged souls and easily led astray. Brihann was intent on waging war on mankind, but by his actions was more likely to unleash a war here in the world of demons that would destroy them all.
“My lord, will you not have one of these nymphs?” Artemis asked, enjoying the companion who was rubbing herself across his lap.
He grunted and then turned away, having no interest in listening to those beautiful creatures sing or watching them dance to the delight of all in the dining hall. “Charon. Styx. Come.”
His dogs scrambled to their feet at his command. Before Georgiana, he would have taken no less than two nymphs upstairs with him. With his dogs growling at every one of them who dared approach, they all backed away and left him to himself. He smiled inwardly, amazed that his dogs seemed to have chosen Georgiana as well. “She has gotten to all of us,” he remarked, not surprised when both nodded.
It did not seem to matter that he’d returned her to the safety of the Fae king’s palace as innocent as she had come to him. Almost as innocent. He did not regret the intimacy they’d shared.
“My lord,” Thomas called out to him in a breathless rush just as he’d reached the stairs leading to his tower bedchamber and was about to climb them. One of his young scouts followed close on Thomas’ heels.
He acknowledged the scout. “Is something amiss?”
“I’m not certain, my lord. King Brihann’s soldiers are now amassing on our border, a force larger than a mere raiding party. We spotted some of their scouts near the river. They were watching the ferrymen bring across the new arrivals.”
“Blast it. Follow me.” He returned to the dining hall and summoned his captains. “Brihann means to attack those who have not yet the power to fight back.”
He noted the surprise of all three of his captains. These were fighting men and were as disgusted as he was by the targets Brihann was now choosing. “Where is the honor in that cowardly act?” Andronicus said, running a hand through his dark hair.
Artemis scoffed at him. “When has the High King ever shown honor? Brihann’s intent is to goad us and he will use any means necessary. He’s attacked us three times already this evening.”
Dalgwynn glanced longingly at the nymph who’d been most attentive to him in the dining hall. “I suppose she’ll have to wait.”
“Artemis and I will take this battle,” Bloodaxe said, feeling a surge of power flow through his body. He was eager for the clash of swords and already exhilarated by the thought of smashing his fists into the soft, frog-like bodies of Brihann’s demons.
“We’ll join you.” Andronicus frowned. “I lost my chance at redemption, and I’ll be damned if I allow Brihann to harm these new souls before they make their choice.”
Andronicus would remain damned whether or not he saved those helpless souls, but Bloodaxe did not point it out to him. Andronicus knew it anyway. “No, Artemis and I will protect them. You’re to take your men and position them along our border directly across from Brihann’s forces. Don’t engage unless they are about to strike. Then do whatever you must.”
“Dalgwynn, station your men near the Razor Cliffs. Do not allow Brihann’s demons to open the portal into Friar’s Crag. Same for Necros and Python. Those mindless toadies are always doing Brihann’s dirty work.”
His captains nodded, the gleam in their eyes evidencing their readiness for battle. But Bloodaxe doubted there would be significant fighting tonight. Amassing soldiers along the border and sending raiders to attack the newly arrived souls on his shore were merely feints by Brihann to lure them away from his true target.
Bloodaxe didn’t know what that true target was yet.
Perhaps there wasn’t one.
After dismissing his two captains, he gave instructions to Artemis who responded with a gravelly “Aye, my lord” and strode off to gather his soldiers and ride to the river.
Bloodaxe climbed to his parapet and emitted a roar that could be heard across his realm as he began to shift into a dragon. If Brihann wanted a fight, he was ready to give him one. He roared again as a lightning surge of power flowed through him and began to harden his flesh. Within moments, his limbs and torso were covered in scales as black as obsidian. His blood began to heat and he felt himself filling with a dragon rage. He snapped his whip-like tail and spread his mighty dragon wings to soar toward the red sky.
First, he circled his fortress to make certain no enemy approached, then he gave a mighty flap of his wings and began the hunt for Brihann’s demons. They would be easy to spot from his vantage point.
His blood was hot and thrumming.
The hunt.
He enjoyed the hunt.
He enjoyed the kill even better, for that’s what he was. A beast. A predator.
Don’t harm the defenseless souls.
He had to remind himself.
He had to think of Georgiana.
For now, the mere thought of her was enough to calm the dragon rage within him.
But the constant raids and his own counter raids would eventually wear him down. He and Brihann were playing a game of cat and mouse. By constantly attacking his lands, Brihann meant to bring out the darkest part of him, the savage part that hunted and killed.
So far, these were petty raids. Some fiercer perhaps than usual, but they were easily countered. He and his armies were always prepared.
Indeed, he could play these simple war games for centuries and never succumb to the darkness. Continuing these games for even half a century was all he needed to allow Georgiana to live out her life in peace.
The same for Saron.
They were all he cared about.
How long before Brihann realized his tactics were not working and came up with new ones?
He heard Brihann’s dragon roar in the distance.
Brihann himself? What did the mad Fae want now?
Truce, Lord Bloodaxe.
He much preferred this useless game of raiding each other’s lands. Allowing Brihann to draw near under the guise of peace was far more dangerous. He roared in response and flew toward him, carefully circling him. Why call a truce now?
I am ill and dying, Lord Bloodaxe. It is time for us to reconcile.
He’d heard it before. Reconcile and then pledge fealty to the High King. The moment he did so, Brihann would declar
e war on mankind. They’d be the two black dragons of prophecy, and together they’d conquer and extend their dominance over two worlds.
It was a mad quest that would lead to the destruction of the Underworld. Their demon armies might flood through the portals under cover of night and spill the blood of an unprepared population, but what would happen when the sun rose and burned these same demon armies to ashes? Not even the Dragon Lords were immune to the power of the sun.
Not even he, once an English duke’s son, was immune to its bright, burning light.
He’d tried to regain the ability to stand in sunshine.
He’d secretly tried for years, but it was lost for good. He could no longer move about in that glorious sunlight, that golden brightness as beautiful as Georgiana’s shining hair. He was a lord of darkness, now and forever.
What are your terms, Your Majesty?
Were Necros and Python so mindless that they could not see the obvious flaw in the plan?
They continued to circle each other, two black dragons silhouetted against the red sky. Python and Necros soon joined them, but did not approach too closely. They merely made their presence known and circled in the distance.
There was no sign of Mordain. Where was he?
Lord Bloodaxe, meet me by the Razor Cliffs. You and me alone. I’ll withdraw my armies, but you must withdraw yours as well.
He still didn’t trust Brihann.
He’d sent men to guard the portal at the Razor Cliffs, for it was the largest portal in the Underworld and opened within the red mountain known as Friar’s Crag. The Fae king had defended this spot within England’s Lake District for thousands of years. He would be on the alert and ready to battle any demons who came through its volcanic depths.
So why had Brihann chosen this location?
Any portal would have served his purpose with far less risk. Perhaps Brihann chose it knowing he would not agree to meet anywhere else.
Very well. I shall meet you here in a week’s time, Your Majesty.
Brihann roared his displeasure at the delay. Why not now?
Bloodaxe had no specific reason other than the fact that Brihann seemed too eager for them to meet now. It had to be a trick. If so, he needed to prepare his realm for the battles to come.
One week’s time, Lord Bloodaxe. I shall hold you to your word.
Bloodaxe did not bother to respond. Promises in the Underworld were meaningless. It took honor to uphold them and Brihann had never known the meaning of the word. The old bastard had broken their pact when he’d killed Gideon. Bloodaxe had never forgiven him for that foul deed and never would.
He circled Brihann once and then flew toward Necros and Python, slamming his body into them for no reason other than he was angry and they were mindless toadies. Python snapped his teeth at him and tried to bite him. He easily avoided the green dragon’s pitiful attempt.
Necros fell off balance and began to plummet to the ground. He regained his wings but not before bruising his big, yellow body on the prickly branches jutting from the treetops. We’ll have our revenge, Bloodaxe. Just you wait and see. You’ll be sorry.
Python ordered him to shut up.
Bloodaxe slammed into each of them again and then flew back to his fortress. They weren’t going to come after him. Not now, not ever. No, they were going to go after those he loved.
Georgiana and Saron.
Saron could defend himself, which meant they’d go after Georgiana first.
He had to stop them.
Chapter Fourteen
Georgiana donned one of her favorite gowns, a vibrant Venetian blue wool trimmed in ivory white silk. She then allowed her maid to fashion her hair into a loose chignon at the nape of her neck with loose curls draped lightly at the sides of her forehead.
“You look lovely, m’lady,” the young girl said, casting her a smile and nodding her approval.
“Thank you, Mary. You have a talent for styling hair.” She grinned. “I couldn’t have done nearly as well.”
Mary blushed. “Oh, I’m sure ye would have done far better.” She handed Georgiana her hat, scarf, and gloves, and then fluffed out her fur muff. “It’ll be cold atop that phaeton,” she said with a tsk. “Make sure you’re bundled up.”
Georgiana laughed as she held up her accessories. “I shall be so bundled, I’ll hardly be able to move.”
She hurried downstairs when she heard voices at the front entry and recognized Oliver’s bark of laughter. But she paused on the last step, hesitant to come forward to greet him. This first meeting would be awkward.
He was standing beside the door that their butler had shut to keep out the cold wind and was talking to her father. “I shall take good care of her, Your Grace. You mustn’t worry. I will not tear through the streets of London with your precious cargo.”
Her father released the breath he’d been holding. “Good lad. Georgiana is all I have. I couldn’t bear to lose her again.” He patted Oliver’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Linwood. I’m truly sorry it did not work out between you and my daughter. I hope you find the happiness you deserve.”
“I will, Your Grace. Rest assured.” There was a hint of bitterness behind his words, but Georgiana certainly understood the reason for it.
She may have been abducted, but she hadn’t been the only one to suffer. Oliver and her father had suffered worse, in truth. While she had found love during that time, they’d experienced nothing but fear and frustration.
They had no idea where she’d been taken or how she was being treated. They could do nothing to bring her back and must have felt quite helpless. The blow to Oliver was doubly hurtful, for she’d lost her heart to another during that time.
“Oliver,” she said with genuine affection, striding toward him. “I’m truly sorry for all that’s happened. I hope you are well.”
He nodded. “As well as can be expected.”
He showed no expression other than bland acceptance, but a chill shot up her spine nonetheless, for she sensed a bubbling anger. “How are your parents? I look forward to seeing them. These were a hard few months for all of us.”
“They are eager to see you.” He helped her on with her cloak and then took her arm and led her outside to his shining, dark blue phaeton that was waiting for them at the curb. His family crest was emblazoned on the door, a wild boar above which hung two crossed and bloodied daggers.
It was an ugly crest, she decided.
He helped her to climb up and waited for her to settle on the bench before he strode to the driver’s side and climbed on as well. He caught the reins in his hands and gave them a sharp snap. “Why won’t you marry me?” he wasted no time in asking.
Heat rose in her cheeks. “I had plenty of time to think about the course of my life while I was gone.”
It wasn’t a lie. But she wasn’t going to mention Lord Bloodaxe. Her heart beat faster at the mere thought of him. She wanted to be in his arms again.
“Obviously, you decided I wasn’t a suitable mate for you.”
She was surprised by his mention of the word ‘mate’ but she supposed it was mere coincidence. He could have said ‘husband’ or ‘bridegroom’ as well as any other descriptive words. “In your heart, you know that we aren’t suited for each other. We are friends and nothing more.”
“Friends?” He snorted.
She studied him as he wound the carriage through the fashionable Mayfair streets. “Oliver, you know that you don’t love me.”
He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth, then turned to her. “I never pretended I did. Nor did you. So, what has happened to change your opinion?”
“As I said, I had time to think of what was important to me. Both of us were marrying for reasons other than love. But I realized it was a mistake for me to do so.” She sighed, emitting a vapor trail that dangled in the cold air. “I need to marry for love.”
“Love.” He snorted in disdain once more, his lips curling in a sneer. “What will you do if you never find it?�
�
She shrugged. “Then I will never marry.”
He stared at her in frowning disbelief. “You say that now, but you shall change your tune when your father dies and you’re rattling about all alone in your elegant townhouse. Your father’s title is one of those rare grants that allows everything to pass through the female line if he has no male heirs. Will you waste that boon and allow your cousin to inherit it all?”
“And why not? Jacob Wethersby is a worthy heir. Besides, he’ll merely inherit the entailed properties–”
“A fortune by itself.”
She nodded. “And the title along with it. But I’ll inherit plenty on my own. I will not ever lack for anything.”
“Other than the heat of a man’s body against yours. Or the thrust of–”
“Oliver! You forget yourself!” She clutched the side of the phaeton as he took a sharp turn and headed away from his parents’ home. “What are you doing? You’re going in the wrong direction.”
“No, I’m taking you where you deserve to be. Do you think you can make a fool of me?” He snapped the reins again and raced his matched bays at a reckless pace down the busy street.
He was going too fast for her to jump off. She’d break her neck if she tried. “Stop! What’s wrong with you? Take me home at once. I’ll send apologies to your parents.”
His bitterness flowed freely in his laughter. “My parents never invited you. There’s no tea party. They’re not even aware you’ve been found and returned to your father.”
“What? Are you mad?” She fought to quell her rising anger. “What are you thinking? Dear heaven, what are you planning to do?”
He’d turned onto the mews behind his own townhouse, his bachelor quarters that would have become their home once they were married. “I just told you, sending you where you belong.”
He might have frightened her had he spoken to her in this fashion before her abduction, but she’d faced fire-breathing dragons and foul-smelling demons. She’d traveled through portals that defied the laws of space and time. She’d fallen into deep waters and been attacked by odd birds and creatures of myth.