by Jasmine Walt
“I think it’s time for you to put that down,” Lyria finally said, reaching for the embroidery hoop.
“No,” Dareena said mulishly, trying to pull away.
“My lady,” Lyria said, exasperation coloring her voice, “there is no point in doing embroidery if you are going to bleed all over the cloth.”
“Who cares?” Dareena snapped as she struggled with Lyria. “It isn’t as if I’m going to give this to anyone anyway!”
The door opened, and relief swept through Dareena as Alistair walked in. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his amber gaze taking in the scene.
Lyria abruptly stepped back. “I was merely trying to stop Lady Dareena from hurting herself,” she said. “She’s stabbed herself with the needle several times.”
Alistair frowned as he approached, noting the blood spots on the cloth. “It’s not uncommon for people to prick their fingers while using a needle,” Soldian said, sounding perfectly reasonable. “How is Lady Dareena going to get any better if she isn’t allowed to practice?”
“She was practically stabbing her fingers all the way through,” Lyria snapped, glaring daggers at Soldian. “Or are your weak human eyes too blind to see that?”
Soldian’s cheeks colored. “I am merely supporting my lady’s wishes. Something you obviously have trouble doing.”
“Enough,” Alistair said, his voice uncharacteristically hard. “Ladies, you are dismissed. I would like to speak to my mate alone.”
Lyria nodded and left the room without a word. Soldian did the same, but Dareena knew she would slip back in as soon as Alistair turned his back.
“Dareena,” Alistair said, joining her on the couch. He pulled her into his arms, the look on his face tender but troubled. “Please, tell me what is the matter. Drystan said that you scolded him earlier for no real reason, and he is quite upset.”
“Nothing is the matter,” Dareena said, watching out of the corner of her eye as Soldian slipped back inside, invisible once more. “I simply wanted to be left alone for a little while.”
“I can understand that,” Alistair said. He leaned in close and nuzzled her neck. “Do you still want to be left alone now?” he asked, nipping at her sensitive skin.
A bolt of desire hit Dareena, only heightened by the sensual tone in Alistair’s voice. He kissed a path up the side of her neck, then took her mouth, sliding his tongue inside. Dareena reveled in the taste of him, wanting so badly to reciprocate. She burned with both lust and anger, knowing that Soldian was standing by and watching, just waiting for the right time to strike.
Dareena hoped that Soldian would simply make her sit there, inert, while Alistair tried to get her to respond. Instead, she made Dareena bite down on Alistair’s tongue, hard. The coppery tang of blood rushed into her mouth as Alistair cried out, recoiling.
“What is the matter with you, woman?” Alistair roared, his eyes blazing with anger. “Have you gone mad?”
“I did not give you leave to kiss me,” Dareena said, her lips curling back into a sneer. “A gentleman should not make improper advances upon a lady.”
“Improper?” Alistair sputtered, his face coloring with rage. “After what the three of us did together, I am very interested to know your definition of ‘improper.’”
Heat bloomed in Dareena’s core as she remembered how she’d let Alistair and Drystan take her together. The idea of her getting up in arms over a mere kiss was silly indeed compared to what she’d allowed them to do to her. “I only let you do that because I was bored,” Soldian made her say. “To be honest, I never liked having sex with you or Drystan anyway. Lucyan is the superior lover. I should have just chosen to marry him.”
Plumes of smoke poured from Alistair’s nose, and Dareena could see his chest swell with fire. She half wondered if he would incinerate her on the spot, but she knew Alistair would never harm her, no matter what she did or said to him.
“You’re not making any sense,” he said gently, once he’d finally gotten himself under control. “My brothers and I have slept with enough women to know when one is faking. And it was your idea to choose all three of us instead of picking one. You were the one who found that prophecy, and it turned out you were right. The dragon god wanted this to happen.”
“The only reason we are doing it this way is because the three of you were too weak to stop your father from destroying the kingdom,” Dareena said in an acid voice. “If you had stood up to him early on, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
Alistair shook his head. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, Dareena, but clearly there is no reasoning with you right now,” he said as he stood.
His movements were stiff, but beneath the anger etched into his features, Dareena could see the hurt and betrayal. Her heart ached so fiercely for Alistair she wondered if it was being torn in two.
“I cannot believe that you would do or say these things, but perhaps I did not know you as well as I thought.”
“Clearly,” Dareena said, “or you would have already figured out that the babe I carry is not yours.”
Alistair froze. “What did you say?” he whispered.
“I was already pregnant before I came to Dragon’s Keep,” Dareena declared. “By a stable boy in Hallowdale I met for weekly trysts. Why do you think I was so eager to be Chosen and took all three of you to my bed so readily? I needed to cover up the truth of my pregnancy.”
Alistair looked at her as though she’d lost her mind, and Dareena secretly crowed on the inside. “That’s impossible,” he said. “I noted your change of scent when we went to Elvenhame. There is no way you were pregnant before you arrived.”
Dareena wished she could meet Soldian’s eyes as Alistair moved closer to sniff her again. Surely, she knew she had made a blunder. Would Alistair be able to tell that her feelings and words were not in accord?
As Alistair examined her, she prayed to the dragon god to make her mates see sense and figure out what was happening to her before she ended up dead. There was no doubt in her mind after what Soldian had said—she would not survive to see the spell lifted unless Drystan and Alistair discovered the truth.
28
The next day, Lucyan and Leager set out on horseback for Dragonfell. The two were permitted to bring a small pack with bare essentials, and were given basic steeds to ride. Nothing too fancy, as they were supposed to look like common folk. Lucyan wished he could shift back into dragon form and fly home—it would take far less time. But he could not afford to do so in warlock territory.
It took them two full days to reach the border, and during that time, Lucyan was forced to listen to Leager brag about his accomplishments and regale him with various tales of debauchery. He had half a mind to kill the fool and be done with it, but he wanted to reach the first tavern—he was curious as to how well the warlocks’ methods actually worked on his people.
“Finally,” Leager said as the sign for the Black Dog Tavern came into view. It was in the middle of a small town, just five miles across the border. “It’s about time we got our hands on some real ale, and women.”
“We’re not here to drink and whore,” Lucyan reminded him. “We’re supposed to be gathering information.”
“Who says we can’t do both?” Leager winked. “If you don’t want to, that’s your business. Just means more for me.”
They stabled their horses, and Lucyan gave the stable boy a copper to rub them down while they went inside to order food and drink.
“So, what do you think about them dragons?” Leager asked the barkeep as he leaned over the counter. “Mighty frightening to see them wheeling overhead like that.”
“Impressive, if you ask me,” the barkeep said. “It gives me hope to know we have more than one male dragon roaming our skies now. With war breaking out on all sides, we need all the protection we can get.”
The others sitting around the bar murmured their agreement. “But surely the dragons don’t care all that much about us,” Lucyan said, te
sting them. “I’ve heard rumors of one of the dragons terrorizing people on the road, burning them to a crisp and taking their gold.”
“Someone did say that the treasury was nearly emptied,” a man said worriedly. “Perhaps this is the dragons’ way of replenishing the royal coffers.”
One of the servers, a woman with a low-cut dress, scoffed at that. “I would think they’d just raise taxes,” she said as she walked past, carrying a tray of ale mugs. “It takes far too much effort to go flying about like that just for a few bits of gold, and besides, such behavior would be beneath our princes.”
“Whichever version is the truth,” another man said, “I think it is a mistake to get involved with the dragons and their quarrels. The royals may not be perfect, but they are the direct descendants of our god. I would not want to face the dragon god’s wrath by attempting to defy them.” He shuddered.
The others agreed vehemently with this. “But surely the government here needs to change,” Leager protested. “So many of you are living in poverty while the dragons sit in their castles and steal your gold. Look at Shadowhaven, for example. They have allowed their humans to create advanced technologies that make quality of life better for all. Surely a government that does not consider humans to be lesser beings is more beneficial for people like us?”
“There might be some things we can learn from the way the people of Shadowhaven operate,” an elderly man said in a quavering voice, “but there is nothing you could do to convince me that the warlocks are better than my own people. They are nasty, conniving tricksters who practice black magic!”
“And they love to terrorize women and children!” another woman cried.
“I hear they do nasty experiments on animals,” a man said in a hushed voice. “A few people have even seen monsters roaming their lands!”
Lucyan hid a smirk as the villagers continued to berate Shadowhaven. It turned out that the village had recently run afoul of some traders who ended up swindling a number of them, selling them protection amulets that did not work. Leager tried to argue with them about it, but the people wouldn’t hear of it, and instead began to accuse him of being a warlock sympathizer.
“My friend has had a few too many drinks,” Lucyan called over their angry protests, taking Leager by the arm. He pulled the man off the stool and dragged him toward the front door. “Let me take him outside and talk some sense into him.”
“Those fools,” Leager fumed as Lucyan brought him around the back of the inn, where no one could see or hear them. “Blaming all warlocks for a few crooked traders. I didn’t realize these villagers were so stupid—it is going to be harder than I thought to convince them.”
“If you mean that it is going to take more than one conversation, then yes,” Lucyan said blandly. “If it was so easy, Lord Byrule would have sent a dog.”
Leager bared his teeth. “Don’t speak to me as if you are better than me. You hardly spoke a word in my defense, and you made me look like an idiot when you dragged me out of there! You are supposed to be helping me!”
Lucyan gave him a cold smile. “You are beyond help,” he said, and then punched Leager in the face. The man’s jaw made a cracking sound, and he dropped like a stone to the ground. Lucyan had half hoped Leager would put up a fight, but he was out cold, and did not respond when Lucyan pressed a finger to his neck, checking for a pulse.
“Perhaps I should not have hit him so hard,” Lucyan muttered as he relieved Leager of his valuables. At least he was still alive. It would be easier to kill the man, but Lucyan wasn’t a barbarian. He would be taken prisoner instead.
After Lucyan had stripped the other spy of everything worth taking, he put it all into his pack, then trussed him up, making sure to gag him so Lucyan would not have to hear him whine. Satisfied, Lucyan took off his clothes and stowed them away, then tied his pack around his neck before shifting. Lumbering around the outside of the inn so he could find a clear spot to take off, he spotted some villagers staring at him, both frightened and amazed. He recognized a few of them from the tavern and inclined his head.
“I told you it was best not to mess with the affairs of dragons,” the man said to the woman standing next to him. “Just think what he would have done to us if we’d spoken against the crown!”
Lucyan chuckled, the sound coming out as a raspy huff. He gripped Leager in his left hand as he took to the skies, heading home. With any luck, he would catch up to Ryolas and Basilla so he could escort them the rest of the way. The last thing he needed was for the two of them to be captured just as Basilla had been freed.
29
After Alistair left Dareena, he returned to his own office to ponder this recent encounter. He really needed to get back to his troops soon, but he could not afford to leave, not when Dareena was acting so strangely. Drystan was too angry to see it, but Alistair knew better than to think she was merely being affected by her pregnancy. She had said too many things that did not make any sense.
He wished Tariana or one of his sisters were here to talk this through, or even Taldren. A fierce wave of pain swept through him at the thought of his dead cousin, who lay in the crypt below the castle. They still had not given him a proper burial, nor his slain sisters. It seemed wrong to plan the coronation and wedding while he had family that had not been lain to rest. But there had been no oracle to preside over the funerals.
“Perhaps it’s the oracle I need to go and see,” Alistair mused aloud. She might be able to speak to the dragon god, or perhaps her eyes would see something in Dareena that they may have missed. Alistair feared that perhaps the warlocks had managed to get to her using some long-range spell, though he wasn’t certain why they had waited so long to make their move, if that was the case. He wished he could speak to Lucyan and find out what he knew.
When Alistair received word that Drystan had returned from his hunt, he went to meet him in the courtyard. His older brother looked exhausted, and not at all satisfied despite the stench of human blood clinging to him.
“Did you find more bandits to kill?” he asked as he wrapped his brother in a cloak.
“A few dozen,” Drystan said wearily. He shook his head, frustration brimming in his gaze. “I am appalled at how many of them are on the roads, accosting our people. This has gotten out of hand.”
Alistair put his arm around his brother. “I have a feeling that once the bandits know there is a dragon roaming our lands and hunting them down, they will be far less bold with their efforts. We really ought to meet with our vassals and discuss implementing more effective measures to enforce our laws.”
Drystan nodded. “I’ll add that to the list.”
Alistair sighed at the bitter note in Drystan’s voice. “I met with Dareena today,” he said, steering his brother into an empty parlor room where they could talk in private. It wasn’t below ground, so he shut the curtains to be safe and spoke in a low voice. “She said several things that didn’t make any sense. I think she might be under the influence of some spell.”
Drystan frowned. “I suppose that’s possible,” he said, “but who would have put it on her? We’ve swept this place countless times for warlock operatives—I just don’t see how anyone could have gotten to her.”
Alistair shrugged. “There is much we still do not know about warlock magic,” he said. “With any luck, Lucyan will be able to help fill in our gaps of knowledge when he returns. I received word from Shadley while you were out that Ryolas and Basilla are on their way to Dragon’s Keep, and that Lucyan will be following shortly.”
Drystan brightened at that. “That is excellent news,” he said, looking happier than Alistair had seen him in days. “But we cannot simply hope that Lucyan will be able to fix Dareena, if there is even a spell on her in the first place. He is no warlock.”
“True,” Alistair agreed. “Which is why I’ve decided I’m going to pay Rofana a visit.”
“The oracle?” Drystan frowned. “Did you not just get back from Targon Temple?”
Alistair gave him a wry smile. “Would that I’d already known of this issue before I left. In any case, the oracle needs to be made aware of what is going on. It is late now, so I will go at first light tomorrow.”
“Very well,” Drystan said. He ran a hand through his hair, looking very put out. “I hope it really is just a spell, and that Dareena hasn’t had a change of heart. If she does not truly love us…”
“She does,” Alistair said, cutting off that train of thought. “And if she has forgotten, then we will make her remember again.”
The two of them returned to their suite for the night. Drystan tried again to approach Dareena, who was in bed, but she refused to let either Alistair or Drystan join her.
“I am far too tired for bedroom acrobatics,” she said, barely looking up from her book. “Surely the two of you can find some hussy to amuse yourselves with instead. Any of my ladies would doubtless be happy to serve.”
Drystan scowled. “You know better than to think that either of us would take another woman to our beds,” he growled, snatching the book out of Dareena’s hands.
“Drystan—” Alistair began, but his brother ignored him.
“Are you really going to pretend you find us repulsive?” Drystan demanded. He grabbed Dareena’s wrists and pinned her to the bed. “Are you going to pretend that you weren’t screaming my name the other night and begging for my cock?”
“The only thing I want from your cock is for it to leave this room and take you with it,” Dareena said in a voice like ice. She smirked up at him. “Unless your plan is to pin me to the bed and rape me instead. Would that satisfy your bruised pride?”
Drystan snarled with rage, plumes of smoke streaming from his mouth. Disgusted, he released Dareena. “If that is how you truly feel, I will put the wedding and coronation on hold,” he shouted, storming from the room.
“Drystan!” Alistair hurried after his brother, shutting Dareena’s door behind them. “Get a hold of yourself, man.” He grabbed his brother’s shoulders. “We do not know what we are dealing with yet! We must continue with the preparations for the wedding and the coronation—the dragon god demands it!”