by K. L. Thorne
The dragonette appraised him with her pale, intelligent eyes for a moment before making a delicate cooing noise in a bid for his affection.
“Hi, Gorgeous,” he whispered to the creature.
Haros reached out and poked his fingers through the bars of the cage to stroke her smooth, silky scales. He smiled softly as the creature closed her eyes and cooed louder, clearly enjoying his touch. Her small, under-developed wings stretched as much as they were able to in her tiny cage.
He hadn’t been expecting to see a dragonette in Awrelwood. Faeries were known for disliking any form of scaled or slimy animal, and dragonettes were infamously associated with demon culture. He doubted they were very popular – how long had this beauty been here?
“How can I help you, good sir?” a voice called out from somewhere in the back of the shop.
Haros looked around curiously, ignoring the dragonette’s insistent nudging beneath his fingers as he stopped stroking her.
“A raven,” he replied. “If you have one.”
“Afraid not.”
Haros jolted as a short, wizened old faerie appeared at his side. The dragonette hissed from her cage and shrank back from the shopkeeper.
“I see my dragonette has caught your attention, demon,” the man scoffed and shuffled away to sprinkle some food into a nearby fish tank. Thousands of tiny, rainbow-coloured minnows flew to the surface, eager for their dinner.
Haros cleared his throat and hesitantly lowered his hood, exposing his horns. He glanced back at the dragonette, who was purring at him from inside her cage, eagerly rubbing her body against the bars.
“Where did you get her?” he asked.
“A traveller had met with a rather sticky fate in an alleyway not far from here. The dragonette had been in his possession. The creature hadn’t been keen to part with her master. She’s been near unapproachable since.”
The faerie rolled up a sleeve and pointed to several dark, healed scars along his forearms.
“That’s no surprise. Dragonettes are very loyal.” Haros nodded, casting his eyes over the little reptile again.
She gazed back at him and cocked her head to the side curiously, as if aware that he was speaking about her.
“Was the owner—”
The faerie snorted. “A demon? Yes, I believe he had been. Someone had made short work of him. Unfortunately, all his valuables were gone by the time I’d found him… All except the dragonette.”
Haros’s mind whirled. The dragonette had been a familiar to a demon. It was unusual and unlikely, but some dragonettes were able to be trained to perform the task of delivering letters.
He surveyed the poor creature. She was in a sorry state, rather too thin and weak to be of any use. She was a yearling at most, but her wings were much too small for a dragonette of her age, even against her malnourished frame.
“How long have you had her? Does she get much time out of the cage?”
“Are you mad?!” The shopkeeper pinned him with an incredulous stare. “The blasted thing would have my eyes out. She’s been in that cage since I found her.”
Haros poked his fingers through the bars and petted the dragonette once more. She gazed up at him. The slit of her pupil retracted against the light revealing a shimmering expanse of icy blue. She reminded him of Sivelle.
“I’ll take her. How much do you want for her?”
The old faerie eyed him with interest; a dark expression crossed his face. “The dragonette isn’t for sale.”
Haros’s heart plummeted and he frowned in disbelief.
“I thought you didn’t want the poor creature?”
The faerie smirked. “No, but you want her and that has piqued my interest. What is it about these disgusting sky-snakes that you demon folk find so irresistible?”
“It’s a culture thing – you wouldn’t understand,” Haros replied through gritted teeth.
“Maybe I’ll slice her open to find out what makes her tick and—”
Haros lurched forwards and wrapped his large hand around the old man’s neck, hoisting him off his feet and pinning him to the wall with a hard thud.
Creatures squawked and howled in dismay from the cages surrounding them, some eager to protect their master, others keen for spilt blood. The dragonette cooed loudly beside him.
The shopkeeper’s face morphed into an angry scowl. Haros sensed the man’s majicka building, but he was weak and unpractised. He was clearly expecting Haros, like many demons, to be unable to defend himself against his spells.
How wrong he was. Haros wove a binding spell, but unlike Mivian’s, this bind would not only hold the man’s physical presence in place, but also his majicka.
The old faerie hissed, spittle flying from his mouth as he realised Haros had blocked his attempt at attack.
“I asked you nicely, old man,” Haros growled under his breath. He removed his hand from the man’s throat, pleased when the shopkeeper remained in place. His majicka was holding.
The demon unclasped the door to the dragonette’s cage and the creature clambered eagerly onto his outstretched palm. She climbed up his arm, her sharp claws gripping the material, and hastily tucked herself beneath his cloak.
Haros couldn’t see her, but he felt the reptile curl her body around his. Her long tail swished happily beneath the heavy material before coiling around his thigh. Claws dug into his back as she held on tightly.
It was a well-practised move. Clearly her previous demon owner had often carried her with him when he had been travelling. Her cooing was audible, even beneath the thick cloak.
Haros glanced around for a distraction. A rather vicious-looking bloodboar was caged a few tables down. The pig snorted and gnashed its yellowed teeth, ready for vengeance.
Bloodboars were notoriously aggressive and made excellent guard animals. This particular specimen had tusks almost as long as Haros’s forearm. The old faerie had failed to file off the sharp tips, clearly intending to sell the pig for malicious intent. A fatal mistake.
The demon slid the bolt across and leapt away quickly. The boar rammed its large body forwards, keen to escape.
As Haros slammed the shop door behind himself, he removed his binding spell, and the shopkeeper fell to the floor. He grinned, hurrying away from the clattering and yowling as the pig got free.
He heard the faerie yelping in terror and barely held back a laugh. The prick deserved everything he got.
Chapter Twelve
Sivelle stared out of her window at the snow storm and dropped her book into her lap. She sighed heavily, her warm breath fogging against the glass.
Where was Haros? He had been gone for hours. The princess felt a deep scowl crease her forehead. Try as she might to deny it, her room felt empty and lonely without his presence.
Sivelle shook herself. Why did she even care? She was still mad at him. He had explicitly gone against her wishes last night. Their intimacy had been conditional on him remaining bound, and he had been unable to fulfil his promise… Although, granted, Sivelle hadn’t told him that. Was she really angry about him breaking an arrangement he hadn’t actually agreed to? Her cheeks grew hot.
She had been surprised and upset last night and had allowed her nerves to get the better of her. Haros hadn’t done anything wrong, really. He had been kind and considerate – albeit a bit of a smart-ass – and she had been thoroughly enjoying herself until he had startled her by getting free from his bindings.
Sivelle bit the inside of her cheek, feeling foolish, and cast her worries aside. He was a thrall; it didn’t matter what he thought… Right?
The evening was beginning to draw in and Sivelle fiddled with her book, running her fingertips over the edges. Would Haros try to seduce her again tonight? Probably not, she admitted to herself. Why would he ever be interested in her again, after the fuss she had made?
Sivelle may not have been an expert at love and relationships, but even she knew that it was unlikely that the demon would chase someone who had spurned hi
s affections as she had done. She had well and truly rebuked him.
All her adult life she had been dreaming of the day she would be swept up in some whirlwind romance by a handsome stranger. Now it had really happened and she had pushed him away, like the timid prude she was beginning to fear she was. Maybe her sisters were right about her all along.
I’m going to be alone forever.
The bedroom door flew open, interrupting Sivelle’s internal fretting. She gasped and sprang to her feet as Haros strode into the room.
“Where have you been?” she demanded, her voice automatically growing cold and irritable. She cursed herself silently.
The demon was wearing a cape, covered in snow, and a wide grin.
“I’ve got a surprise for you, but I need you to stay calm and quiet.”
Sivelle nodded and moved in closer. He held up a finger and slowly opened his cloak.
At first, she stared blankly at the demon, unable to see what he was revealing for her. That was, until the creature moved and its long scaly body wormed around Haros’s waist to peep out at her.
Irises as bright as fresh winter snow stared at her, glinting with curiosity and intelligence.
“Sivelle, this little beauty is going to help us get letters back and forth to your sisters… Eventually. She needs a little feeding up, but I—”
“She’s lovely,” Sivelle breathed, leaning in to get a better look.
Haros carefully removed his cape and let it fall to the floor at his feet. The small dragon was curled around his muscular torso.
“Have you ever seen a dragonette before?” Haros asked, eyeing her curiously. “Faeries aren’t usually very fond of them.”
“No, never, but I was always captivated by the dragon stories our nanny used to read to my sisters and I before bed when we were young.”
“Come on, girl. It’s alright.” Haros held out his hand, encouraging the dragonette forward.
The creature loosened its hold on his clothing and clambered up his forearm. Its sapphire body shimmered in the light as the dragonette scaled Haros’s body, eventually stopping to perch on his wide shoulder. The reptile eyed Sivelle warily from her new vantage point and her wings stretched open.
Sivelle’s own wings instinctively widened. She swore a flicker of interest crossed the creature’s face.
Yes, beauty, I have them too.
“Have you named her yet?” the princess asked.
“No, I was wondering if you would like to do the honours.”
Sivelle stared at the creature, already besotted. The dragonette was the most beautiful animal she had ever seen. As if sensing her approval, the reptile leapt forwards and glided elegantly down onto the back of one of the chairs beside the fire before sniffing around curiously.
“My favourite story was always the tale of Nyre, Lady of the Sky.”
“Nyre, I like that. What do you think?” Haros turned to address the dragonette. “Does the name Nyre please you?”
To Sivelle’s surprise, the dragonette began to rumble softly – not too dissimilar to a purring cat. She smiled and the dragon almost seemed to smile at her in return.
“I think she approves.” Haros grinned.
“I love her, truly, but what possessed you to do this?” Sivelle asked with a laugh.
“You wanted a way to be able to contact your sisters. I was going to get a raven, but Nyre here is much better than any bird.”
The dragonette cooed appreciatively before launching herself across the room to investigate Sivelle’s bed.
“Consider it a late birthday and apology gift,” the demon continued.
Sivelle stepped forwards and reached up to take Haros’s face in her hands. She pulled him down into a soft kiss and her stomach flipped when he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly without hesitation.
They kissed feverishly, all of the hurt, anger and guilt melting away in an instant. Sivelle’s mind coursed with memories of the night before, of how Haros had made her feel before things had gone awry. She ached to feel that way again.
“Take me to the bed,” she whispered against his mouth.
Haros simply groaned a response, lifting her easily off her feet and carrying her forward a few steps before laying her down onto the mattress.
Nyre cooed nearby and her wings billowed the air around them as she flew to investigate a new part of the room.
Still attached at the mouth, Haros clambered atop Sivelle and kissed her harder. The princess whimpered and her hands flew to the buttons of his shirt.
“Oh! Sorry!” Mivian squealed from across the room.
Sivelle and Haros parted, looking up from their heated embrace. Sivelle craned her head back to see her startled and embarrassed handmaiden floundering in the doorway. The faerie turned her back on them and pressed her hand to her cheek.
“I didn’t realise you had, uh, made up. I just wanted to let you know that dinner is served, Your Highness. Shall I tell them you’re, um, otherwise engaged?”
“I’m not very hungry,” Sivelle murmured with a small smile. Her eyes dipped to Haros’s mouth, eager to continue their kiss.
“Speak for yourself, sweetheart. I’m starving.” The demon cast her a sexy grin. He pressed a brief, hot kiss against her lips before pulling away and getting to his feet. “Besides, I think our new friend could definitely do with a good meal.”
As if on cue, Nyre soared across the room with a suspicious hiss in Mivian’s direction. The handmaiden screamed and her knees buckled in her haste to scramble away.
Sivelle shot up, hurrying to intervene. “Mivian! It’s alright. Nyre is our new companion.”
“W-why in Hestaesia’s white lands would you choose a dragon as a pet, Princess?!” The handmaiden scuttled away, eyeing Nyre warily.
The small dragonette had her wings spread defensively, but as Sivelle approached, she clambered up her skirts and curled around her waist, resting at her hip.
Sivelle smiled, a sense of happiness glowing in her belly, and gently stroked the dragonette’s soft scales. Despite her suspicion of Mivian, Nyre began to purr.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
“In a terrifying, fire-breathing lizard kind of way,” Mivian’s voice shook.
“Could you arrange for my evening meal to be in my quarters this evening? Just for Nyre’s first night here. I don’t want to leave her unsupervised. What do dragonette’s eat, Haros?”
“Anything that has recently had a pulse,” he replied. “Ask Dorian if he has any of those elk leg joints left – that should suffice. We might be needing a fairly regular supply of them, at least until she’s strong enough to hunt for herself.”
“I take it you’re also eating your evening meal here?” Mivian asked Haros.
The demon looked across at Sivelle, almost for permission.
“Of course he is; don’t be ridiculous. As if I’m going to be eating up here alone.” Sivelle scoffed, hiding her joy behind mock irritation.
Mivian cast an uneasy glance in Nyre’s direction and hastily exited the bedroom. Satisfied that the intrusion had been seen off, the dragonette leapt from Sivelle’s body to gaze curiously out of the window at the snow falling outside.
“That was a much more typical faerie response to a dragonette.” Haros laughed, his dark eyes glittering with mirth.
“Mivian will come around.” Sivelle smiled and sidled closer to him. With her eyes downcast, she stood before the demon and rested her hands gently against his chest.
“Am I forgiven, Princess?” he asked, taking one of her hands in his own and bringing it to his lips.
“I suppose so,” Sivelle sighed. She felt hot, impatience burning in her belly. She was shamefully keen to continue their earlier embrace.
Hesitantly, the princess tip-toed to place a soft, warm kiss in the depression beside Haros’s Adam’s apple. She felt him swallow and he rested his hands on her waist.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but can we wait until after
dinner? The food will be here soon and I’d rather not sit through the entire meal with a raging cockstand.”
Sivelle giggled and dropped back down onto the flat of her feet. She met Haros’s eye before glancing away bashfully.
The faint bell of the service chute broke the tension and Haros moved to the hatch, sliding his hand down Sivelle’s arm as he passed. Even just that slight touch had her heart racing.
This time she wouldn’t shy away. She felt sick with nerves and a meal was the last thing on her mind.
∞∞∞
Sivelle watched Nyre, fascinated as the tiny dragonette tore strips from the joint of meat. The haunch that had been delivered was nearly as big as the creature, but she seemed determined to eat every last scrap.
“I knew she’d be hungry,” Haros said from across the table, his attention fixed on Nyre.
Sivelle and the demon had comfortably shared a meal and now sat in silence, watching their new pet. The princess twirled a lock of hair around her finger and gazed across at Haros.
He was leant back against the soft chair, his long legs stretched out before him. One hand was tucked behind his head and the other lay relaxed at his side. From this angle, the flickering firelight highlighted his firm chest through his shirt.
Sivelle sat opposite, perched on the edge of the other settee. Though she willed herself to relax, her muscles were knotted with tension. Her finger twirled around her curls faster still.
She didn’t have the demon’s attention – his dark eyes were still fixed on Nyre – but she wanted it.
For the thousandth time, she wished she had Lori’s natural flirtatious character. Her younger sister would’ve had Haros slavering over her in seconds. A flash of cleavage here, or a glimpse of a smooth thigh there and he would have been helpless to resist.
Maybe it was time to get into something more comfortable? That was how the heroine in the romance book had swayed the hero. Sivelle got to her feet.
“I won’t be a moment,” she said, quickly skipping into her dressing room.
With shaking hands, the princess tugged open her lingerie drawer and began pawing through it. She held up a pair of white lace knickers thoughtfully.