They rested like that for a while, Kiraz still inside, but not moving, and Gissandra, boneless and blissful in the wake of her orgasm.
Eventually, Kiraz delicately extracted himself, nestling by Gissandra’s side.
She kissed him on the nose. “Wow,” she said. “That was something.”
“Understatement,” Kiraz commented, kissing her also on the nose.
“What in the thousand kingdoms did you do there?” Her flush grew redder. “Because for a dragon, you sure seem to know a lot about making a human body… happy.”
Kiraz shrugged. “I’m quite a bit older than you, princess. I learn some things. You may not want to ask for the details of how.”
“Oh.” The high in Gissandra fizzled down. “I guess that makes sense. I suppose some part of me likes the idea I could be your first. Like you were mine, you know?”
“Hmm.” Kiraz tickled under her chin with one long forefinger. “I understand that. I won’t lie to you, princess if you have questions about the past. But I do think it is irrelevant to this moment. Right now… we enjoyed this, didn’t we?” He draped a casual arm over her stomach, nuzzling her cheek until she squirmed from the itchiness of his beard.
“Ah! Yes, you’re right. I can’t help but feel a little…”
“Pft.” He closed his eyes, settling into the sofa by her side. Giss craned her neck to examine his naked form, the beads of sweat on his forehead. Her limbs still hung strangely numb.
Petulance and jealously gave way to the joy of the moment.
“Well, ‘Pft’ sounds good to me.”
Gissandra closed her eyes as well, placing a hand on top of Kiraz’s. The warmth of their bodies together felt good.
I could get used to this.
Chapter Five: The Unexpected Visitor
Life after their bonding on the sofa became a lot more interesting. When Giss wasn’t trying to learn to cook with Brendag, or force another knight off the trail with elaborate ruses (though she didn’t repeat the second-hand princess incident again), or clumsily practice her sword fighting skills, Kiraz was keen to repeat what had happened between them. Several times over.
Giss certainly didn’t complain. She looked forward more than ever for Kiraz’s return flights – and a week into their newly sexed up relationship, where Giss also happened to be learning all sorts of new facts about human anatomy and what it could and couldn’t do, Kiraz decided that he could trust Giss with the treasury.
Outside the door, which consisted of a rectangular slate covering the entrance to the room, Kiraz spoke the magic word.
“Please.”
The slate rolled with a gurgling rumble to the side, allowing Giss to peer at the wealth that lay within.
“Are you serious? ‘Please’ is the magic word?”
“When has it never been? My other choice was ‘Open Sesame’, but a few too many creatures use that one.”
“You could like, use, I don’t know – something more difficult to guess. If you don’t want anyone actually stealing your hard earned treasures.”
“Point taken.” Kiraz bowed to her, holding out an arm to point inside. Gissandra prowled into the stone room, the walls conspicuously glowing yellow, helping to illuminate the room better.
“Makes everything look shiny,” Kiraz said, standing proudly at the sight of his treasure.
Giss’s jaw dropped. Mounds of gold coins were heaped all over the vault. Mixed into the gold was glints of jewelry, such as necklaces and rings, alongside transparent or opaque bottles. There was even a genie lamp nestled in a pile of golden statuettes. A lion statue with glittering green eyes towered above the rest. Giss spotted the Crown of Jaeland drooped over one lion ear.
“This is a fortune. Wow! What do you dragons do with this?”
“Sit on it, mostly,” Kiraz admitted. “We have compulsively bad hoarding habits. It does need to be sorted out at some point, but whenever I come in here, for some reason I just end up wallowing in all the coins instead.” Even as he said this, he walked towards the biggest mound of coins, transforming into a full-sized dragon. As he did so, his voice deepened into a booming growl, amplified by the walls.
“It’s just so wonderful to the touch…” He flicked a tail in delight as he crashed into the gold, burrowing his head into it, coins falling off his body in glimmering showers.
“Okay. Do you and your gold need a moment? Because I can leave and come right back.” Gissandra jerked a thumb towards the exposed entrance.
“It’s quite okay.” Kiraz wormed his head out of the treasure to face Giss. His orange scales blended in well with the various shades of gold.
“I’m not sure if organizing it will ever happen, if that’s what you like to do with it each time you come in.”
Kiraz squinted his amber, lizard-slit eyes. “The biggest issue is the enchantments and magical artefacts that I have buried amongst the gold. I don’t care so much about the individual bits of jewelry or seeing the coins bagged up. The enchantments, however, need sorting.”
“Okay. But how do I tell if something is enchanted?”
Kiraz reluctantly squirmed his way out of the coins, shrinking his form into human shape. Gissandra noticed a strange white clump of fluff drifting off his body as he did so.
“You get a feeling, or an uncontrollable urge to wear it, or rub a lamp, or to drink a potion. That’s when you know it’s likely enchanted.”
Gissandra resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Great. That sounds practical. And how do I stop myself from putting or drinking or rubbing things and accidentally cursing myself?”
“Good point.” Kiraz sniffed. “I guess I can look into finding an anti-enchant object. Brendag might know to concoct a good potion for that as well. She’s a troll, they love their herbal remedies.”
Gissandra took one last look at the treasure room as they left. It was more wealth than she could have ever dreamed of – even compared to the vaults of Jaeland. If all dragon hoards were like this, it remained a wonder that people didn’t steal more from them. Gissandra would be tempted herself, far more than rescuing an annoying princess. She also felt fairly certain she saw something move.
“We do get thieves,” Kiraz said, in answer to Gissandra’s unspoken question. “Sometimes they get away with trinkets, but usually only as much as they can carry. And sometimes they find accidentally cursed treasure and are transformed into something else. I’m pretty sure some of the necklaces here used to be a thief at one point.
We’ve played down on the rumors of our hoards over the years, so people think we’ve been robbed blind and have far less than we actually do. Sooner or later though, they’ll find out. Then the fun and games will recommence.”
The slate door rolled over the entrance.
“I still think you should change the password.”
“I’ll get around to it.”
“Good.” Giss gave Kiraz a quick peck on the cheek. “Though we should probably save the reorganization of that room for several years in the future.”
Kiraz seemed to like the implication that Giss planned to stay for an indefinite amount of time, and launched into a crushing hug, scooping her feet off the ground in his enthusiasm. He also sniffed her hair, which Gissandra found odd, but not too odd. She noted to herself to ask Brendag for any good brands of shampoo in the area.
***
Giss sat outside their cave entrance, watching Kiraz fly off into a clouded sky, scales glinting from the few strands of light that poked through. Although Kiraz made the promise to stay more around because of the influx of knights wanting to rescue Gissandra, for the high monetary reward and the prestige of having a princess for a wife, some duties still pressed on him. A tiny little white bunny hopped outside the cave – Giss had let it out of the treasure room earlier, and she continued to observe it hopping until it disappeared down one of the thin mountain paths, where the knights preferred to make their journey.
Naturally, Giss had questions. Lots of them. A small gree
n dragon rested on a boulder a short distance away. She vaguely recalled it as Sastran. She wondered about the protocol for princesses when they approached dragons they didn’t belong to. Was it allowed, for example? Or did it invite her up for being taken by them, instead? She knew princesses could be exchanged between dragons, but not of the procedures of how. The encyclopaedia of monsters only mentioned interactions from the human perspective, and not any of the details of how dragons actually functioned as a society – or if they even possessed one. Giss wanted to find out.
I might even be able to meet some of the other princesses. It could be nice to meet another human, even if they’re complete airheads.
Surprisingly, Giss found she missed parts of home. The royal nanny looked after her and her siblings more than her parents, who always wore their regal mantle for the rest of the kingdom to see. The nanny fussed and grumped, but did the best she could with a flock of spoiled, squealing princesses and princes. Home of course amounted to many luxuries that Giss did without here.
Home didn’t have freedom, or Kiraz, however.
Giss started in shock, yanked out of her reverie by the clattering of metal on stone. Someone clanked into view from one of the winding pathways, encased in full armor, wielding a longsword, and what looked like several anti-dragon fire enchantments. These were purple gem bracelets and necklaces, created by an ancient high-level magician, and were incredibly scarce. Giss’s eyes travelled to the insignia on the armor – that of a black rose unpeeling, the petals scattered on the ground.
“Oh, shit,” Gissandra said.
Spotting her, the armored man straightened up, striking an impressive appearance. “Princess Gissandra, I presume? I’m –”
“– Ardemar. Seriously, out of all the princes that could have eventually decided to come and rescue me, it had to be you?”
Ardemar, the one who had sent her dozens of letters. Ardemar, a prince of the most powerful kingdom in the world, Avelon. He held several titles, such as count of the Dark Waters – where he had fought single-handedly against an army of mermen and had won – or at least so the rumors whispered. He was also rumored to have demon blood, to be able to set things on fire with a glance, and would flay the skin from your living body without caring in the slightest. He was unmarried (for obvious reasons), and considered dangerous by his family, and could quite feasibly murder his two older siblings to wade his way in blood to the throne. Everything about him screamed I’m going to be an evil tyrant. So far, having a large patch of land in Avelon and impressive titles had worked to stave his influence, and his ambitions.
Yet for some reason, now he was here.
“You don’t look particularly pleased.” The prince pulled down his visor as he stepped closer. He spotted the snoozing dragon on the rock, barely blinking an eyelid. Gissandra gulped. Yes, this prince would be harder to faze. Or redirect. Eyes like burning coals stared into Gissandra’s face.
“Not really. You have pretty much everything, and I’m ninth in line to my throne, so I honestly can’t see how this benefits you at all.”
If Ardemar found her line of questioning odd, he didn’t say. “This is true. Still, it intrigued me how you so blatantly refused my courtship. I’ve had many seek my hand, and none rebuff it.”
“Oh. You’re one of those obsessive types.” Gissandra bit her lower lip.
Ignoring this, Ardemar continued. “However, you are a princess of a high ranking kingdom. The reward for your rescue is five hundred thousand coins, because your dragon has defeated twenty-six knights.”
“Twenty-six?” Gissandra placed her hands on her hips. “Have none of the knights been telling you I’ve been sending them away because I don’t want to be rescued?”
Ardemar chuckled, though there was no warmth in it. “Some have, though people do not believe a princess would do that. So she must be charmed by powerful magic. You will not persuade me like you have done them. Come. I know your dragon is not here.”
This was bad. Really bad.
“Maybe you should wait until my dragon gets back, so I can be won in a fair fight?”
“Nice try.” Ardemar advanced. “But since you have a reputation for defying rules and customs, I will do the same.” Gissandra decided to resort to the good old fashioned scream, even as his hand clamped over her mouth. The scream alerted the snoozing dragon, as well as two others who were staying in their caves – Harkrul and Balon. Harkrul emerged out of his cave, which had huge steel doors with an inscription written in a different language. Balon dashed out, uncharacteristically fast for someone who hated Giss.
“Wretched girl…” Ardemar shook his head, before slamming his visor shut, unleashing Gissandra’s hand. “Better run then, before you get burned.”
“You would take a princess without battle?” Harkrul growled, his huge form towering above all else. Smoke curled out of his nostrils. He glared at Ardemar in accusation.
“It is Kiraz’s fault for not being there,” Balon hissed, obviously still sore from his last princess being stolen, red eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I can take over possession of the princess instead… and show these filthy humans what it means to threaten a dragon.”
“Okay.” Giss wasn’t sure what to expect when she had screamed for help, but three dragons attempting to rescue her from a prince had to be up there in her column of what the hell is happening.
“Under the rules, that is possible, if Kiraz is proven to be irresponsible.” Harkrul nodded, eyeing Gissandra, who lay sprawled in front of Kiraz’s cave. Balon snapped his teeth in triumph of the statement.
Oh shit. I get taken by Ardemar or become Balon’s princess? Since when did I become everyone’s favorite tug-of-war toy?
“I would prefer to take this princess without any unnecessary deaths,” Ardemar said coolly. “But three on one is rather unfair odds…” He flicked a speck of dirt from his sword. “For you.”
“Insolent slime!” Balon, having conveniently forgotten his enmity with Kiraz and Giss, charged forward. The green dragon, Sastran, spewed out a massive gout of fire, engulfing Count Ardemar in intense flames.
Giss felt sick to her stomach. Whatever she thought of Ardemar, she didn’t think his death at the hands of the dragons would go down well. He had travelled for possibly weeks to reach here, defying whatever conventions people expected of him, just to die like a common villain, instead of going through with his nefarious and dastardly plans.
Ardemar stepped out of the flames, unburnt. He dodged one swipe of Balon’s claws and slashed upwards, blade sinking through the dragon scales like water.
Balon screeched agony, red gushing out of his arm. Sastran inhaled, ready to spit more fire – but Ardemar, with almost inhuman speed, took out and flung a dagger towards the green dragon. The dagger was tiny, hardly enough to inflict any kind of damage – but Gissandra saw the glint of onyx on it, just before it embedded itself between Sastran’s eyes, trapped by the scales.
Sastran tossed his head as if trying to shake off a fly, apparently unaffected. Quickly, a pattern of black veins inked out from where the dagger had landed, spreading over the dragon’s scales, dulling them where it touched.
With a gasping breath, Sastran fell to the ground, thrashed and writhed, tail thumping the ground – and fell still.
Where the hell did he get something like that?
Ardemar avoided a swipe from Harkul, and a blast of flame from Balon.
“Dragon slayer!” Harkrul roared, his voice reverberating around the peak. He gave a bellowing call, like the one Balon used to summon other dragons.
None however, came. Gissandra, originally thinking Ardemar didn’t stand a chance, now realized it was the other way around. She wanted to dash inside for her sword, though dreaded the idea of Kiraz returning if she did, and wasn’t there to stop him from taking the Black Rose prince on. Since, apparently, the Black Rose prince had weapons infused with something that meant bad news for the dragons it came into contact with. Even now, Sastran’s corpse crumbl
ed further, scales shedding off to reveal emaciated muscles wrapped around bone.
Count Ardemar fought in silence, no taunts or breath wasted. Underneath the visor, those black eyes focused on the dragons. Fear glimmered in Balon’s red eyes. Harkrul tried to use his immense body mass to overwhelm the prince, lashing out with his tail, stomping down on the prince. Balon streamed out red-hot fire, immolating Ardemar. His blood splattered the ashen ground beneath him.
Gissandra didn’t understand why all four of them fought so hard. She just didn’t.
Perhaps she should have just gone with the prince, and avoided this. All the others had been meek, and eventually accepting. She expected more knights and princes made of that same material, people so wrapped up and baffled by anything abnormal that she could get away with this existence. She already knew Ardemar’s reputation.
Now however, the Black Rose prince came breaking down her door, shaking up all notions of peace and prosperity. Reminding her that this was a world where there were monsters and humans, and that sometimes it was hard to tell which was which.
Harkrul, that mighty golden dragon, the largest of all of the ones Gissandra had ever seen, leant down to bite the prince, who resisted the flames. Calmly, Ardemar reached for another one of those cursed black daggers, and thrust it into Harkrul’s mouth, even as the dragon’s jaws closed around him. The prince’s muscles quivered as he strained against the jaws before they could fully snap shut and impale him. Harkrul thrashed his head wildly, trying to shut his mouth, and Ardemar resisted. His strength faltered for a moment, and the tip of one fang pierced his shoulder, through the armor.
With a sighing groan, Harkrul then sank to the floor, legs no longer able to support him. His golden scales rapidly blackened. Eyes jerking to the back of his head, Harkrul expired, and Ardemar rolled out of the corrupted mouth.
He stood, facing Balon. The blue dragon seemed to remember a pressing engagement elsewhere, for he quickly slithered back into his cave with a frightened screech, the stone entrance sealing shut – before the prince could kill him.
Romance: The College Bad Boy: A Young Adult Romance Page 73