by Kyra Jacobs
“What in the devil’s name were you trying to do?” His fiery eyes blazed mere inches from hers.
Addie cringed beneath his grip and looked away. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Hurt you?” He stepped back, but his hands remained like warm manacles around her arms. “My lady, I just saved you. Again. Do you have a death wish?”
“No. I just… I need to get back.”
“Get back to where?”
“To my hotel. In Watford. I have to work in the morning. Please, you have to let me go.”
“There is no such—”
The door burst open and Emeline rushed in, the oil lamp in her hand illuminating their tangled bodies.
“Sire! Your wound!”
“Leave us,” he barked without taking his eyes, or hands, off Addie.
She threw the older woman a pleading look, but Emeline simply sighed, set the lamp on a nearby table, and retreated to the hall. Dread snaked down Addie’s spine as she found herself alone once more with the monster.
“Please,” she whispered, unable to meet his gaze. “Let me go.”
“If I release you, do you promise no further foolish attempts at escape?”
Addie nodded quickly, wanting to be free from his touch, free from him.
“Very well.”
His hands opened, and the man stepped back, allowing her both some breathing room and a chance to study her captor in the room’s improved lighting. Afraid or not, her heart sputtered at the sight. The creature before her bore a closer resemblance to a Greek god than the golden beast who had descended upon her in the forest. His skin was smooth and richly tanned, making the white of his linen shirt nearly glow in comparison. From his trim waist hung silky golden lounge pants, which dusted the floor. A pair of bare feet—quite human indeed—peeked out from beneath the fabric’s edge.
As Addie’s gaze shifted back to his face, her heart stammered once more. The man’s jawline was edged with day-old stubble, the same milk-chocolate color as his shoulder-length hair. Brows that couldn’t have been more perfectly drawn were pulled down in concern above his unusual topaz eyes, which were fixed securely on her. Thankfully, his eyes no longer glowed.
“Do you promise not to hurt me?”
He tipped his head in her direction. “You have my word, fair maiden.”
Addie studied him a moment longer. Her ankle was absolutely screaming now, and the chaise lounge a short ways off was calling her name. With a nod, she limped forward.
“Allow me, my lady.”
She cringed away from his offered hand, then cast him an apologetic look. “Thanks, but no.”
“As you wish.”
Each step felt like a hot poker straight to her ankle, but Addie refused to ask for help. Two-time hero or not, she didn’t trust the Adonis beside her. Though once she settled herself onto the chaise, she couldn’t help but drink in the view another time. He remained silent, his intense, golden gaze taking in her every move.
No, it simply couldn’t be. He wasn’t a dragon, he was just a man. A rich, gorgeous man. Still, he’d been adamant about the dragon bit. And the glowing-eye thing had been…unnerving. Perhaps that part had been a British parlor trick. For safety’s sake, rather than argue the point, she decided to play along with the ruse. For now, anyway.
“I apologize if it seems I’m staring but, well, I’ve never seen a dragon man before. If that’s what you truly are.”
A smirk tugged at his lips. “In a sense. May I?” He gestured to the open space beside Addie on the chaise.
As it was his house and he no longer looked like something that planned to have her for dinner, she acquiesced.
“Forgive me for staring as well.” He lowered himself onto the seat with a grimace before meeting her gaze once more. “Never have I seen anyone quite like you before either.”
“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.”
“A compliment, I assure you.”
His right brow quirked, and Addie had to remind herself how to breathe. Somehow, in a matter of moments, she’d gone from terrified to oddly intrigued. As she watched, he drew in a deep breath and held it for a long moment before speaking again.
“I fear we have started off on the wrong foot, my lady. Shall we start again?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Indeed, I do. I am Prince Zayne Godfrey of Edana, son to Robert and Helena, heir apparent. And the dragon’s blood does indeed run through my veins.” He flashed her a heart-stopping smile, tipped his head, and bent slightly at the waist.
Prince Zayne?
Addie had forgotten Emeline’s royal reference to him earlier and felt the need to bow or something in return. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a clue as to what was truly expected. After a brief moment of indecision, she pushed to the edge of her seat and dipped into what she hoped looked like some semblance of a curtsey. Only, she’d forgotten again about her bum ankle and nearly toppled over the moment she put her full weight on it.
“A kind gesture.” He reached to help her back onto the chaise. “But that looked far more painful than necessary. And to be honest,” he added in a whisper, “I get rather bored with all the curtseying and whatnot.”
A nervous giggle escaped Addie. “Right. Well, I guess it’s my turn, then. I’m Adelaide Miller, Addie for short, and I’m…not from around here.”
“You don’t say?” The prince took her nearest hand and raised it to his grinning lips. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Adelaide. It is miss, is it not?”
Fire rushed to her cheeks. Surely the prince—and not just any prince, but a prince who looked like a Greek god—wasn’t flirting with little ole her. She was a foreigner, from Indiana, for crying out loud. Nothing romantic ever happened to people from Indiana. “Um, yes. And please, call me Addie.”
“Addie,” he echoed and pressed his lips to the back of her hand once more, feeling like warm silk against her skin. “I rather like the sound of that.”
And I rather like the way it rolls off your tongue. The fire in her cheeks surged again. Too bad all this was about to end. She had a photo shoot scheduled in the morning and two more in the afternoon. All she had to do now was convince the prince to let her go and see if someone might be able to give her a ride back to the hotel.
“So, Your Highness, wh—”
“Please, you may address me simply as Zayne.”
“Okay, Zayne.” The word flitted across her lips and brought a smile to his. “So, which kingdom are we in?”
“Edana, my lady.”
“E…dana.” Addie nodded as though that rang a bell. Her history teacher had always said she’d regret not trying harder in school. “Forgive me, I’m terrible with UK geography. Is that north or south of Watford, Hertfordshire?”
Zayne’s brows drew into a bothered vee. “Hert-ford-shire?”
“Or London, perhaps?”
“I know of no such places, my lady. Perhaps you are confused.”
“Don’t know of them?” Addie’s jaw dropped. Surely he had to be joking. So why did his features look as serious as a heart attack? “How can you not? I mean, Watford I could understand, but London is England’s capital—even I know that.”
Zayne withdrew his hand from hers, his gaze suddenly wary. “From where exactly do you hail, my lady?”
“The United States. Indiana, actually, but I flew over here to do a photo shoot with one of your regional soccer publications. Sorry, football is what you call it over here.”
“Flew? ’Tis not possible.”
“Of course not. I’m not talented like you dragon people.” She winked. “I took a plane.”
As incomprehension darkened Zayne’s handsome face, panic began to wrap its claws around Addie. First he’d never heard of London, now he acted like planes were an entirely new concept as well. Was he mental?
“Look, Zayne, whatever happened back in the woods with you flying in to save me, I’m not planning on telling anybody about
it. Your secret is safe with me, I swear. And it’s been a pleasure meeting you too. But it’s getting late, and I really need to get back and prep for my shoot tomorrow. Would it be too much to ask for you to summon a driver or something to take me back into town?”
Zayne frowned. “We have no driver.”
“Really?” Addie rubbed at her temples; she felt a headache coming on. “Oh, you mean you already let him go home for the night?”
“My men do not ‘go home.’” He leaned closer to her. “Where I go, they go. While I am here, this is their home.”
His eyes were beginning to take on that glow again, and Addie leaned away. She couldn’t imagine what she might have said to make him so angry. “T-they sound very dedicated.”
“’Tis their duty to be loyal to the crown, and my duty to provide for and protect them when at all possible. As such, I refuse to send them off with you to foreign lands in the dead of night.”
“B-but I need to get back!”
“To report my location to your army?”
“You…think I’m a spy?” A fatigued giggle escaped her. And another. And another. “That’s freaking hilarious. Me, a spy?”
Zayne’s glowing gaze narrowed.
Addie cleared her throat and wiped tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just that, well, if you knew me very well, you’d know I’m definitely not spy material.”
“And why is that?” His voice was a low growl.
Yep, her laughter had ticked him off. She worked to smooth the smile from her face. “Because I’m too easily distracted to carry out any kind of serious mission. That’s why I chose to go into photography—it was the only career I could think of where I wouldn’t get in trouble for being distracted. Sometimes those distractions turn out to be some of my best work.”
“How can I be sure you speak the truth?”
“That’s easy—get me back to my hotel and I’ll show you my portfolio. Heck, you could even tag along to tomorrow’s shoot if that would make you feel better. But here, without my camera or prints, I can’t really prove anything.”
Zayne studied her for a long moment, as if trying to see into her very soul. She squirmed beneath the weight of his stare and offered him all the reassurance she could: a smile and a shrug. His gaze shifted to the fire. After a moment, he rose to his feet.
“Prove your innocence to me tomorrow, and I shall release you. I give my word.”
“Fair enough. Wait, tomorrow?” She sprang to her feet and hissed as a fresh wave of pain assaulted her ankle. “I need to get back tonight.”
“My decision is final. You shall stay here and rest tonight. Guards will be posted outside the door and window, so do not try anything foolish.” He started for the door.
“But you can’t do this. I’m an American citizen!”
“I can and I will.” Zayne opened the door and offered her a small bow. “Until morning, my lady.”
He pulled the door shut behind him, and the sound of something sliding across its exterior followed. Addie stared at the doorway in shock. Had he really just locked her in here?
She hobbled to the door and gave it a solid tug, but the heavy wood barely moved. Enraged, she rattled the door for several more moments, hoping to shake free whatever was on the outside holding it in place. But it was no use. The door wouldn’t budge. Frustrated and fatigued, she limped back to the chaise and dropped onto it with a huff.
“Prove my innocence,” she muttered as she drew her aching ankle onto the cushion. “Oh, I’ll prove it all right. Just you wait. Then we’ll see who the real fool is.”
Chapter Five
Queen Helena strolled through her flower gardens, hands clasped tightly beneath her heavy cloak. An endless sea of ebony and glittering stars stretched across the horizon, and in the air hung the sweet perfume of a hundred rose bushes. She longed for her mind to quiet, for the night’s serenity to wash her worries away. Instead, anxiety seemed to grow with her every step, echoed by those of her dual trailing royal guards.
What if Berinon was wrong? What if the high wizard had lied to placate her?
If only Zayne and the girl were here instead of at Godfrey Manor. Then she could see for herself if this fairy tale Berinon spoke of had in fact come true. A gateway between worlds? She knew her husband to cast peasants who voiced more believable proclamations into their dungeon.
But what if it is true? What if the wizard had somehow summoned Zayne’s true love from beyond the world they knew, a lass whose arrival might knock their kingdom from its current wretched path? Even then, would it truly be enough?
Her husband’s enraged roar interrupted the queen’s worries. She flinched as the sound of her son’s name echoed throughout the yard. Now was not the time for second-guessing her traitorous actions. No, now was the time to fight for what she believed in, no matter the fury she’d surely face. To fight for Zayne however she could.
She hurried to her husband’s royal chamber and found him pacing the floor, a deep scowl etched into his scarlet-tinted face. Atop the room’s long side stood a small feast and a fresh carafe of wine, largely untouched. Other than the king, no one else was present.
“…should kill the boy myself and spare them the trouble…” King Robert muttered as he walked, a crumpled scroll clenched in one fist.
Helena’s breath caught in her throat. What had happened? What had she done?
She crossed the room and came to stand before her husband. “My king, what troubles you so at this hour?”
“What troubles me? Have you any idea what your son has done now?”
“Pray tell me, Your Majesty. Is Zayne not well?”
“Is he not well? Oh, ho, ho, quite the opposite. Or at least he may be until I get my hands on the impudent brat,” the king said with a snort. “Send him off for a short holiday, you said. It will help clear his mind before the wedding, you said. Well, my dear, your wistful request may have thrust us into war.”
She gasped. “War? B-but how?”
Robert unrolled the crumpled scroll. “According to King Jarin, one of his sentries witnessed, and I quote, ‘a giant golden dragon making off with a fair maiden from a forest deep within our borders.’ The longbow-man attempted to save the poor girl, used his weapon to try to fell the beast, for Christ’s sake.”
Helena felt faint. “Was Zayne struck? Has he been captured?”
“No,” Robert grumbled. “Though it might have been better for the boy if he had been by the time I am done with him. I did not spend every waking moment the last twenty years working to bring peace to our lands only to have your son’s cock ruin it for the rest of us.”
Helena’s hands curled into fists behind the screen of her cloak. When their child did something to make Robert proud, Zayne was his son. All other times, which were often indeed, Zayne was proclaimed to be her son. But the queen knew better than to fight fire with fire and forced her voice to take on a soothing tone.
“And I have not stood beside you these same years merely to watch your heart fail from anger over our son’s actions. Please, Your Majesty.” She gestured toward his favorite chair beside the room’s massive stone hearth. “Cease your pacing and come sit by the fire.”
“I shall not—”
“You shall.” Her voice was calm as she claimed his hand with hers. “I insist.”
The fury in his eyes gave way to reluctant surrender. While Robert’s temper could be scorching, it was rarely long-lived. He allowed her to lead him to his seat, but the scarlet remained in his cheeks.
“Dammit, woman. My kingdom is on the brink of war, and you choose now to make demands of me?”
“Now is precisely the time for such a demand.” Helena left his side to pour him a glass of wine. “I shall not have you making rash decisions about Zayne’s future until we know the full story.”
“Bah,” Robert muttered. “We already know the story. ’Tis the same as the last and the time before that. Honestly, does
the boy know no restraint?”
He took the drink offered to him, and Helena watched as the tension in his shoulders began to ease.
“I imagine not, if he is anything like his father at that age.” She knelt onto the floor beside his chair. Robert cast her a knowing look, and the two shared a quiet chuckle. “My lord, I know his actions today seem selfish and rash, but I sense there is much about them we do not yet know. For instance, why was the fair maiden in the Forathian forest to begin with? ’Tis a dangerous place, even for the bravest of hunters.”
“Or the biggest fools, our son included.” Robert’s gaze shifted to the flames dancing in the grate before him. “Why must he defy my every command? I forbade him to hunt on their lands until peace has been secured, but to no avail. Does he seek to inflict war upon us?”
“Your son loves you and our great kingdom,” Helena said softly. “He would do no such thing.”
Robert snorted. “Love. A feeble emotion that makes weak the strongest of men. Surely I’ve taught him better than that.”
Helena’s gaze shifted to the fire as well. Robert hadn’t always been so cold, so contrary to emotion. Zayne was still young and full of the same unbridled passion his father used to possess. She prayed her son’s heart would never grow so cold.
“I will order Zayne to return and provide an explanation for his actions,” said Robert. “Then I will choose an acceptable punishment.”
“Punishment?”
“The boy must learn his place, my queen. If it takes a fortnight in the dungeon to get through that thick skull of his, then so be it.”
Helena’s mouth fell open. “But, Your Majesty—”
“Off with you now.” The tone in his voice was weary as he dismissed her. “I’ve no energy left for bickering.”
Helena rose slowly to her feet, then kissed the hand her husband extended toward her. “Yes, my lord.”
* * * * *
Emeline sank into her favorite hearthside rocking chair in the manor’s grand kitchen, knitting in hand and pipe clenched between her teeth. The servants had finally finished their chores and retired to their chambers, leaving behind only the lingering scent of their mutton dinner. Emeline remained, insisting she first finish her new pair of woolen socks. What she truly wanted, however, was to learn more about their uninvited guest…and when she would be leaving. The last thing her royal ward needed was a distraction.