by Anthology
The dragon had crawled onto her lap, turned around twice, and then plopped down and whirred sleepily.
She stroked his smooth scales, again noticing the tiny keyhole in his neck.
Harry entered the room, carrying two steaming mugs. The delicate aroma of chocolate hung around him in a cloud.
“Hot chocolate?” he asked.
“Much better than tea,” she agreed, taking her mug.
“I see he’s made friends,” Dross indicated the dragon.
“He likes to be in my lap,” she admitted.
“He’s always been very sensible,” Dross said.
Marie studied his face. Was he flirting?
He gazed back at her, his eyes moving to her lips like he wanted to kiss her.
A tidal wave of lust washed over Marie. He was so close she could feel the masculine heat pouring off him. Suddenly, she felt as if she would die if he didn’t kiss her.
Instead, he turned his head to look down into his mug.
“You’ll be the death of me, girl,” he growled.
“Why?” she asked, although she knew the answer from the way his jaw clenched.
“You wanted to know why Ratcliffe wants me eliminated, right?” he asked in a voice that told her he was back to business.
She nodded, curiosity warring with her desire.
“A long time ago, I used to visit this house almost every day. Do you know why?”
“You were friends with Grandmother Marie,” she replied, thinking again that he couldn’t possibly be old enough for that to be true.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “I was. But I had two secrets that complicated matters.”
“What were your secrets?” Marie asked, her curiosity pushing aside any other thoughts.
“Have you heard of shifters?” Dross asked.
“Humans who can turn into animals?” Marie asked. “My father says they’re all gone.”
“That’s what people think. And the remaining shifters have hidden themselves well enough that it appears to be true. Some have fared better than others. The wolf packs have banded together for protection. But the dragons were gone from this world the last time the portal closed. Except one.”
“Are you saying that there are still shifters in the world?” Marie asked.
Dross nodded.
“I know, because… I am a shifter. At least, I once was.” He studied her face. “Do you believe me?”
Marie nodded slowly.
“What was the other secret?” she asked.
“I was in love with your grandmother,” he said simply. “She was kind to me, despite our age difference. But she never loved me back. She was a powerful, magnificent woman - loyal and smart with a cold beauty unlike any I’d ever seen. Or thought I ever would…”
He stroked Marie’s face gently before continuing, sending shivers racing through her.
“I thought she didn’t love me because of what I was.”
“A shifter?” Marie asked.
“A dragon,” he replied, “the last of my kind. But I was naive and very stupid, blinded by love, I suppose. I thought that if I could somehow remove my shifter side - become completely human - then we could be happy together.”
Marie remained silent, afraid that if she made a sound he would be roused from his reverie and she would hear a version of the story that was less real.
“There were very few people with strong enough magic to even attempt what I wanted. Marie was one of them, but I couldn’t ask her. So I confided in another gifted friend, and he agreed to help.
I spent a year, building the clockwork dragon. His secret compartment would open with a key. That is where my dragon side would be stored.
My gifted friend, Rex Ratcliffe, met me on a cold, dark night. He asked me to open the dragon and give him the key.
What he did to me next was torture. I won’t describe it. But when he was finished, both my shifter side and my magic were locked inside the clockwork dragon, and Ratcliffe held the only key. He would have had the dragon too, but it had already bonded to me, even when all that powered it was clockwork, and it escaped his grasp.”
“Why did Ratcliffe do it?” Marie couldn’t help asking.
“He wanted Marie for himself, of course. Taking my magic for his own would have made him the most powerful warlock in generations. It’s why I went into hiding with the clockwork dragon.”
“But she didn’t marry him,” Marie said.
A crooked smile of satisfaction lit his handsome features.
“No. She married your grandfather, and I’m glad. Jonathan was a good man, and a good patriarch after she passed away,” Dross said solemnly, placing his hand on Marie’s.
She appreciated the gesture of sympathy, especially given his relationship with big Marie.
But somehow, all she noticed was the warmth of his hand on hers and the tingle of electricity between them.
“At any rate, without my magic I couldn’t continue as part of the community. And without my dragon side I was incredibly weak. I did the only thing I could do, fled Tarker’s Hollow and everyone I loved, and went to Germany, and the village where I was born.”
Dross set down his mug, plucked a candy cane from the tree, and twirled it almost hypnotically in his hands.
“Once I was there, I was eaten alive with regret and guilt. I had lost Marie and my friends. I was the last dragon, and I had denied my shifter heritage. My lineage would die with me.
I didn’t know what to do. The only thing that made me feel better was making toys. It wasn’t magic, but it was as close as I could come.”
“You made my dollhouse,” Marie said, remembering the countless hours she’d spent losing herself in that tiny, detailed world. “And Grandmother Marie’s music box.”
Marie had a hard time imagining anyone building such wonderful treasures. To her, they had seemed more than magical.
“I did,” he continued. “I sent them to your family every year. I couldn’t bear to be near her when she had married another man. And I couldn’t risk Ratcliffe getting his hands on the magic inside the clockwork dragon. But I couldn’t stay away, not completely. Sending the gifts made me feel like a part of me would always be here.”
“Why did you come back?” Marie asked softly.
His eyes snapped up to hers and for a moment he seemed to drink her in.
“I was drawn here, like a magnet. Or maybe more like a moth to a flame, I fear. I thought it was to stop Ratcliffe from becoming patriarch, or to pay my respects, but I wonder—”
Before he could finish, there was a click, as someone opened the door to the ballroom.
Harry’s arms surrounded her in an instant, pulling both Marie and the sleeping dragon into a hollow, hidden partially under the tree, that she had never even known was there, concealing them from the intruder.
The dragon still whirred in sleep, now beside her, rather than on her lap.
Marie lay on her side, knees curled up, trying not to make a sound.
Harry lay behind her, his hard body pressed close, his warm arms around her. The lazy beat of his heart began to calm her slightly.
“Is everything in order?” a high voice asked.
Marie relaxed against Dross. It was one of the maids.
“Just chocolate mugs,” another voice answered.
Marie stifled a nervous giggle as she heard Anabelle’s footsteps approach.
Instantly, Dross had one hand over her mouth, his other pinning her hip against his own body.
No longer afraid, Marie reacted to his touch, intoxicated by his warmth, and even the cinnamon smell of his hand on her mouth.
Without realizing what she was doing, she brushed her lips against the hand that held them captive.
Harry froze. Then she felt his warm breath tickle her neck as he exhaled, and the hand on her hip pulled her more tightly against him so that she could feel the hard length of him throbbing against her.
Marie felt her insides tighten with longing in respon
se.
As the maid walked away with their mugs, Marie willed herself not to cry out.
Harry nuzzled her neck, very softly. The light stubble on his jaw teased and abraded her skin.
The door clicked, telling her they were alone once more.
But Harry didn’t let her go, and Marie rejoiced inwardly.
She arched her back slightly, aching for more contact with him.
The hand that had pinned her hip now slid upward to stroke her soft belly.
She importuned her body to be still. Instinctively, she knew that if she responded too much, that if any small thing changed the delicate balance of the moment, he would stop.
And she didn’t want him to stop. More than anything she wanted him to continue, even if the anticipation made her heart forget to beat.
He pulled his hand up further, until it slid between her breasts, and further still, past her aching nipples to rest against her clavicle, fingers spread wide, his touch so soft it almost tickled.
She was throbbing now, every cell of her body open to him, ready to accept him. She wanted him to bite her, lick her, claim her.
Desperately she fought her wild desires and held still.
She felt his lips on her neck, an almost chaste kiss that sent shivers up her spine anyway.
“Please,” she whispered against his hand, unable to help herself.
Harry groaned into her neck, and for a moment Marie allowed herself to hope he was giving in.
But instead, he pulled away from her entirely.
“Come on, darling. It’s late and you need sleep. You’ll be drained tomorrow after your first time,” he said in a playful tone.
“You know,” she said, trying to think of a way to put it politely. “I’m a senior in college. It’s not like I’ve never…”
While it was true that she had never actually gone all the way before, she had fooled around. A little. And fantasized a lot.
“Magic,” he chuckled. “I meant your first time doing magic.”
Marie scrambled awkwardly out of the hollow and onto the felt blanket under the tree. She turned to look at him.
His eyes were haunted.
She couldn’t resist lifting her hand to stroke the stubble on his cheek.
“I’m afraid there will be no first time, or any time, for us,” he said, turning his face away.
“Why?” she whispered.
“I don’t have any magic,” he sighed. “And you’re going to be the new matriarch.”
11
A Plan is Hatched
No.
Marie’s blood boiled as she sat beneath the tree. Those horrid Ratcliffe men. She would not allow them to ruin her golden-eyed prince.
“Then we’ll get your magic back,” she said imperiously.
“What do you mean?” Dross replied sadly. “He’ll never tell us where that key is.”
“I don’t need him to tell me,” Marie announced triumphantly. “I know exactly where it is.”
“How?” Dross asked her in wonder.
“His reptilian grandson had it around his fat pink neck when we were dancing,” Marie said distastefully.
Dross threw his head back and laughed. When he looked back at her, his dark eyes twinkled in the light of the tree.
“So are you going to sneak up on him and club him on the head, or what?” he asked.
“He’ll keep it hidden, now that he knows you’re here,” she said. “But I know how I can get him to bring it out in the open.”
“How?” Harry asked.
“I’ve got the dragon,” Marie replied.
“Go on,” Harry said cautiously.
“They were out there, in the snow somewhere. They saw me use my magic, which means Rex’s chance at patriarch won’t be uncontested. Thaddeus doesn’t want to marry me, but he will, if it’s his family’s only shot at being part of the nobility. All of which means that if he sees a chance to get magic for himself he’ll take it, if only to add to his grandfather’s claim.”
“Of course he wants to marry you!” Dross protested.
“Trust me, he doesn’t. So what I’ll do is send him a note apologizing for insulting him last night when we danced,”
“You insulted him?”
“No, as a matter of fact he insulted me, but boys like Thaddeus don’t question apologies,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ll apologize and invite him to come see my clockwork dragon.”
“Then he’ll come with the key.”
“Yes, but you’ll have the dragon,” she told him. “We can’t risk that. I’ll tell him I broke it or something. And then I’ll pretend to seduce him with my feminine wiles. And he’ll pretend to let me. And during that I’ll swipe the key.”
“Sounds… complicated,” Dross offered. “And I don’t like the seducing. If you don’t like him, you shouldn’t try to seduce him.”
“Pretend to try to seduce him,” Marie clarified, as much for her sake as his. “Unless you have a better plan?”
“No,” Dross admitted. “That’s actually a pretty good plan.”
12
The Key
Marie paced her room. The day had passed with aching slowness, but the moment of truth was almost upon her. She had never been much of an actress, in fact, she was a second-rate liar and prone to speak her mind.
She had no idea how she was going to get through this meeting.
It had all sounded so easy when Harry was by her side.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
There was a loud shave-and-a-haircut knock on the door.
Taking a deep breath, she opened it.
“Hello, Marie,” Thaddeus boomed.
After the previous evening with her handsome and polite prince, Marie couldn’t help but notice that Thaddeus’s voice was too loud, his sweater too red, his hair too blonde.
He looked down at her as if she were something he’d scraped from his shoe. She hoped her expression was harder to read than his.
“Thank you for coming,” she smiled.
“Sure,” he said distractedly, already peering around the room for the dragon.
His sweater covered more than his shirt from last night, but when she strained her eyes, Marie was rewarded with a wink of gold through the knit.
She sat on the edge of her bed, patting the comforter beside her.
Thaddeus sighed and joined her.
“I am so sorry about last night.” She smiled up at him, trying not to notice that his eyes were too far apart. “I feel like we really got off on the wrong foot, Thaddeus. Our families have been allies for generations. Can we start over again?”
“That sounds great,” he said.
“Oh, good,” Marie said.
“Yeah,” Thaddeus replied.
There was an awkward silence.
“So, um, did you like the ball?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I guess.”
She literally could not think of one follow-up question.
“Didn’t you say you had a dragon?” he asked hopefully.
“Oh, yes, it’s really amazing. Dross made it for me,” Marie tried to keep the love out of her voice.
“Well, where is it?” Thaddeus asked impatiently.
“Oh, he had to make an adjustment to it. It was messed up and he had to fix it. He’ll be back with it in a minute or two. He just took it to his room and then he’ll bring it back here,” she over-explained, her cheeks flushing.
Marie forced herself to look up at Thaddeus with what she hoped was a normal expression.
By some mercy, he seemed to have decided to kiss her. Probably so they wouldn’t have to talk to each other.
His expression squeezed up with concentration and he lowered his face gingerly toward hers.
Marie prepared for the worst kiss ever.
Thaddeus didn’t disappoint.
His mouth came down too hard. Then he smushed his lips wetly against hers and parted them slowly.
To her horror, Marie realized he
was going to try to really kiss her.
His big, slimy tongue invaded her mouth, then just sat there, like a dead fish.
Marie prayed that she wouldn’t choke on the gigantic sopping tongue that was inexplicably just in her mouth.
He moved his hands to her waist, then away from it again to grab her shoulders. He didn’t like touching her soft belly. Classic.
Marie needed better access to the key.
“Is that a wool sweater?” she asked, pulling away a little too suddenly.
“Yeah, my mom made it,” he said. He looked torn between whether it would be worse to have to kiss her again or talk about the sweater.
“Gee, I’m allergic to wool. It makes me break out. In huge disgusting hives,” Marie said, dropping her seductive tone way too late in the explanation.
“Oh, okay. Want me to take it off so we can… keep going?” he asked doubtfully.
She couldn’t say yes to that. Not even knowing that she needed the key that was around his neck.
She nodded her head.
He peeled the sweater over his head but the cuff got caught on his fitness tracker.
Marie saw her chance.
“Oh geez, let me help you!” she cried.
“I’m okay,” he said from inside the sweater.
“Oh no,” she scolded him. “You don’t want to ruin your fit-thingie.”
With her left hand, she snarled his bracelet even more hopelessly into the sweater.
With her more nimble right hand, she reached behind him and unclasped the necklace.
It slid to his lap before she could catch it.
In desperation, she grabbed for it, just as he got the sweater off his head.
She managed to palm it, but that in no way changed the fact that her hand was on his lap.
“Sorry, I slipped,” she explained lamely.
“Heh heh, that’s okay,” he tried to joke, as if he would want her hand on his johnson.
“Look, Thaddeus, I really like you,” Marie lied. “But I think things are going a little too fast between us.”
Thaddeus stared at her, stunned.
“Do you think we could just, you know, take it slow?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, looking as if he had just won the lottery. For once, they had something in common.