Dragon Actually dk-1

by G. A. Aiken

  “You are a dragon. And don’t get your hopes up. I only want to see your talon.”

  “I’m under such scrutiny,” he grumbled in annoyance, but laid one of his talons into her palm nonetheless. Coal black and smooth, its tip sharp and quite deadly. She closed her hand over it, marveling at the fact that her long fingers could barely reach around.

  “What’s it like?”

  “What? Being a dragon?”

  “No.” She smiled as she released the talon. “Flying?”

  He laughed. “Fine.”

  “Fine? Just fine? That’s the best you can do?”

  “Well, I’ve been flying most of my life so it’s not as interesting to me as it seems to be to you.”

  “You take your gifts for granted, dragon.”

  “As do you.”

  “And what gifts do I have exactly? The ability to have my own brother trying to kill me?”

  “The ability to inspire hardened warriors to follow you into battle. I know few who have such a gift as that.”

  Annwyl shrugged. “They were desperate. No one else knows much about my brother.”

  “If they were desperate, they would have sent you back to him with a ribbon around your head.”

  Annwyl smiled at the dragon. He possessed the uncanny ability to make her feel as if she could challenge the entire world and win. And after a long day of being thrown on her back and told her rage would only get her killed, it was nice to come back to the lair and have the dragon make her feel like she was worth something.

  She sat down on his front claw, leaning back against his forearm. She let out a deep, contented breath and felt her sore body begin to relax. She put her hands behind her head and looked off into the dark cavern, amazed at the size of the dragon’s home.

  With mild sarcasm, “Comfortable?”

  She wiggled her rear against his scales. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I’m quite comfortable, thank you.” She let his chuckle wash over her and her body relaxed even more.

  “Annwyl?”

  “Aye?”

  “Did you get those marks on your back from your brother?”

  Annwyl didn’t even have to look to know which marks he spoke of. There were scars from battle all over her body. But the ones her dragon spoke of were brutal whip marks that covered her back. Those scars had belonged to her for more years than she could remember.

  “No.” Annwyl cleared her throat, and she admitted something to the dragon that she never admitted to anyone ever before. “I got these from my father.” She still hated the man. Even though he had been dead for so many years, she still hated him. She lowered her arms and laid her hands in her lap. “My brother has the same marks. One of the few things we have in common.”

  Annwyl didn’t even realize at first that she clasped her hands together. Clasping them so tightly that the knuckles had gone white. Then the dragon placed two of his talons against them, and she realized that only her father ever caused her to feel this way. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. She’d shed enough tears over that bastard. She would shed no more.

  She opened her eyes when the dragon stretched himself out and crossed his forearms over each other. He adjusted her so she rested in the crook of his forearm, his claws ensconcing her safely. He lowered his head until it rested over her outstretched legs. She stared at him for several long moments. His eyes closed; he didn’t make any further moves. She realized he wanted her to feel safe. And she did. He was giving her his strength, his power, his protection. She didn’t fear the razor-sharp talons that laid so close to her body or the mighty head with all its dangerous fangs. She didn’t fear Fearghus the Destroyer at all. She marveled at the feeling.

  The feeling of being safe. It seemed strange to feel neither fear nor rage. As new a feeling to her as her desires for the knight. And, she had to admit, she liked both. That two different beings could introduce her to such opposite emotions shocked her to her very core. No matter what happened, both dragon and man would forever share a place in her heart.

  Annwyl reached out her hand and brushed her fingertips lightly over the scales on his snout. She let her hand rest there as she closed her eyes and leaned back.

  She had no idea how long they stayed like that, but when she finally couldn’t stifle a yawn any longer, Fearghus spoke up. “You’d best get to bed, Lady Annwyl.”

  “Aye.” Annwyl pulled her legs out from under the dragon and stood up, shaking off the pins and needles that ran through them. “That demon knight you’ve trapped me with is quite the task master.” His head still remained close, so she bent down and kissed the dragon on his black snout. “Good night, Lord Dragon. And thank you.”

  “For what?”

  She smiled. “For nothing at all. Which is exactly what I needed.”

  Annwyl walked past him to get back to her chamber. As she left she couldn’t help but slide her hand across his leathery wings and the scales of his body.

  * * *

  Fearghus closed his eyes as her hand swept across his body. Something she did almost every night now before going to bed. Although he didn’t expect her to kiss him. It took all his strength to not shift right then and there. To kiss her back as he wanted to. To do what he could to take away her pain over a cruel father and a sadistic brother.

  His sister was right, of course. Unforgivable brat. He did long for the girl. Longed to make her his own. But the reason she felt so comfortable with him was because he was not a man. From men she’d only known pain and abuse. Yet a dragon protected her. Cared for her. Saved her life.

  He thought of her touching his human flesh the way she touched his scales. Running her hands along his body, the skin sensitive to the touch because of the shifting.

  His entire body shuddered at the thought, and he headed toward his lake. The water, cold and bracing, was just what he needed right now.

  Hefaidd-Hen glared at the flames and wondered what the hell was going on. He’d never really focused much energy on seeing into Dark Glen before. He never cared. But his instincts, which were never wrong, told him he could find the girl there. And he needed to find the girl.

  Not for Lorcan. He could care less whether the fool ever got his precious revenge. It seemed that the girl had more reason to want her brother dead. But Hefaidd-Hen needed the girl for other reasons. He had to stop the rebellion and she was the key.

  For he had plans. Important plans he needed Lorcan for. The girl, however, would never be stupid enough to trust him. He could never have made her an ally. But Lorcan, so lost in his rage, didn’t even realize that someone like Hefaidd-Hen would never waste his time on such petty battles. Unless he wanted something in return.

  So he needed the girl out of the way. Every day she pulled more and more loyalty from the other kingdoms to her side. What had started out as a poor and rather ineffectual rebellion had become something much more deadly and decisive in the girl’s capable hands.

  Lorcan insisted he wanted her alive, so he could have the pleasure of taking her head. And Hefaidd-Hen would do what he could to keep the fool happy. At least for the time being. But if the girl had to die first, she had to die.

  Hefaidd-Hen looked back into the flames and frowned. He still couldn’t see anything. What could possibly be strong enough to block him? It must be powerful Magick because there were few who could match him.

  Whoever or whatever protected the little whelp needed to die as well.

  All these little distractions took him away from his plans. And soon his patience would run out. Especially with Lorcan. He didn’t realize someone could be so dislikable. But the man was. Never happy. Never satisfied. Any failure met with brutal and uncontrollable rage.

  Hefaidd-Hen wondered how long before he lost his patience with the puny man. He had a feeling he’d know soon enough.

  Chapter 9

  “If you want him, take him.” It sounded more like an order than anything else. And Annwyl felt compelled to obey. She smiled at her own centaur shit. S
he wanted the man. Nothing the witch could say either way would ever change that.

  Annwyl reached the stream where she and the knight always met to practice. She stopped short, taking in those broad shoulders and back that tapered into the narrow waist. He crouched by the stream, his body taut and ready under his chainmail. Even before he turned around she knew he was beautiful.

  He glanced over his shoulder, sensing her presence. “Well, hello, pretty lady.” He pushed thick golden blond hair out of his eyes and leered at her. Openly. Didn’t even try to hide his lust.

  “Who the hell are you?” Considering almost all feared Dark Glen, there seemed to be many visitors here of late, her included.

  “Gwenvael is my name. And you are?”

  “Your worst enemy, unless you tell me your business here, knight.”

  She glanced down at his surcoat and noticed it bore the same color and crest as the one worn by her knight. Another mercenary it seemed.

  Gwenvael stood up to his full height and Annwyl tightened her grip on her sword, ready to unsheathe it if need be. He was enormous. And she had no doubt her knight and this man were brothers.

  “I’m here to see the dragon.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “My, we are protective.”

  “Yes. We are. Now answer my question.”

  “I have a message for him. From family.”

  “Really? Well, give it to me. I’ll make sure he gets it.” She held out her hand.

  The knight smiled. “Actually, the message is in my head, sweet one.” He took her hand, and brought it up to his lips. Annwyl watched as he kissed the tips gently, all the while staring into her eyes. She let him finish, then pinched his nose between her thumb and forefinger. She twisted until she got a cry of pain from him.

  “Don’t touch. I don’t like to be touched.”

  “I see that.”

  “Say you’re sorry or I’ll take it off.”

  “Sorry. Sorry!”

  She released him. He rubbed his nose and pouted. She couldn’t help but smile. So very cute. And so very charming. Of course she still wouldn’t trust him with her dead horse.

  His sister was up to something. He could tell. He’d known her for over two hundred years and she’d been annoying him senseless that entire time. But she would tell him nothing now. She was still too angry at discovering his double life.

  But she would never be as angry with him as he was with himself. Yesterday had been the final straw. He had no intention of touching Annwyl, much less kissing her. He, in fact, had started to walk away. But, once again, he couldn’t help himself. And when she kissed him back. . . .

  Yet today would be different. Today he would get control of this human body of his. Today he would not touch her. He wouldn’t even look at her. Today he would face the fact she was human and he a dragon.

  Fearghus sighed. When had everything become so difficult? When you just had to rescue her, you idiot. He now realized he should never have gone out to help. He should have let the humans fight their war as they’d been doing for centuries. As soon as he became involved, everything became difficult. Complicated. Now he had his sister and some human girl living with him. Who else exactly would appear to drive him insane?

  He realized too late he should never have entertained that thought as he came upon them. They sat by the stream. His unmistakable charm oozing from every pore while she laughed loudly at whatever he’d just said. She almost looked as if she were flirting.

  Brutal jealousy came up and choked him. He would throttle the little bastard. Send him back to their mother without the rest of his tail.

  He walked out of the trees and Gwenvael looked at him.“Oh. Greetings, big brother.”

  He gritted his teeth. Had the little bastard told her anything? Gwenvael, unlike the rest of their kin, did not believe in discretion. It didn’t take long to realize that if one asked Gwenvael a direct question about dragons or anything for that matter, he would give a direct answer.

  “I’m here to see the dragon.” He winked at Fearghus. And Fearghus barely contained the near overwhelming desire to take the boy’s head completely off his shoulders and kick it right out of his glen.

  “Is that a fact?” Fearghus spit out between clenched teeth.

  “Oh, yes. Important family business has sent me this way.”

  “Well, why don’t you find Morfyd? I’m sure she’s in the cave. She can help you.”

  “Really? Do you think so?” Gwenvael’s glee almost caused the little bastard to froth at the mouth. He had Fearghus right where he wanted him and they both knew it.

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Well, then. I guess I better go find this elusive Morfyd.” Gwenvael’s grin practically blinded him. But when the bastard caught Annwyl’s hand in his, and kissed it, Fearghus realized he would definitely have to kill the little toe-rag.

  “I thought we discussed this, knight,” she chastised with a smile.

  “We did. But I just couldn’t help myself, lady.”

  Gwenvael stood up and walked toward Fearghus. “I’ll see you soon, brother.”

  The two brothers stared at each other until Gwenvael disappeared out of sight.

  Fearghus turned back to find Annwyl standing, brushing dirt off her backside. “You never mentioned a brother before. You two look very much alike.”

  “What were you doing with him?”

  She looked up startled and caught on to his implications almost immediately. “Anything I like.”

  He snarled. She snarled back. He moved on her, his hands slipping under her arms, lifting her off the ground and pushing her back against a tree. He could smell the lingering scent of his brother surrounding her and he wanted that smell gone. If she smelled of a male, it would be of him and no other.

  “You need to stay away from him.”

  “Don’t try and tell me what to do. I answer to no man.”

  He lifted her up higher so they were eye to eye. “You’ll do as I say.”

  The look on her face. The smell of desire battering his senses. The fullness of her lips. None of that moved him. It was what she said next that did the most damage.

  “Make me.”

  This couldn’t have been what Morfyd meant. She must have meant something else. Something less . . . dangerous. Or, at the very least, less stupid.

  But Annwyl challenged him. Not with a sword or a mace. Those she could handle. She challenged him. Had she lost her mind? Had she finally become as mad as her brother?

  She stared into those beautiful dark eyes, one of them almost blocked by the hair that continually fell across it, and realized that for once she might be in over her head. Her feet weren’t even on solid ground. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a babe. And, even worse, she still didn’t know the man’s name.

  By the gods, woman. What have you done?

  But she wouldn’t back down now. She had her pride to think about. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

  He leaned in close to her. His mouth brushing against her cheek. His hot breath tickling the inside of her ear.

  “A challenge? Woman, are you trying to kill me?”

  Annwyl frowned in confusion. What was he talking about?

  “Do you speak of the dragon? He would not harm you.”

  He ran his tongue along her jaw. “You think you control the dragon, do you?”

  Annwyl had to force herself to focus. His tongue against her skin made her crave more. More of his touch. More of him. “He’s not mine to control.” Annwyl bit back a moan when he pinned her against the tree. His body, hard and tight against hers, the only thing holding her up.

  “Then what makes you think . . .” He kissed her collarbone. “You can stop him . . .” He kissed her neck. “From harming me?” He nipped her earlobe.

  “A creature he may be, knight, but an honorable one. I’d trust my life with him before any human.”

  His hands stopped moving. His body became still.
His lips rested gently against her ear. Had she insulted him? She didn’t want him to stop, but she would never beg him either. So she waited.

  “You care for a dragon?”

  “I care for this dragon, knight. He is my friend.”

  “And I?”

  “You? I have no idea. But I wouldn’t exactly call us friends.”

  He released her, letting her drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “Then why are you here with me now, Annwyl?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want you. I just said I wasn’t sure if I care for you.”

  He stepped back and stared at her long and hard. “Honest girl,” he finally managed.

  “My family can be called a lot of things, Lord Knight, but liars aren’t one of them.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Annwyl fought to understand the confusing man. She sensed he wanted something from her, but she had no idea what. And her frustration was too great to try and figure it out. With an aggravated sigh, she pushed past him.

  “We’re not done.”

  She stopped in midstride, annoyed by his tone. Annoyed by him. “We’re not?” She faced him, arms crossed in front of her chest.

  “No. I’m still waiting.” He walked toward her, and she felt like a hunted doe in the woods.

  “Waiting? For what?”

  “For your promise to me.” He stepped in front of her and what little light the two suns poured into the dragon’s heavily wooded glen was completely blocked out by the man’s huge body. She now stood in shadow.

  “Promise?”

  “Your promise to stay away from Gwenvael.”

  Now she really was annoyed. She could care less about Gwenvael. A mischievous little troublemaker that one. But she also understood how brothers could make each other insane. “I do not intend to make such a promise.” She could see his jaw tighten and she had the sudden desire to be wicked. Very wicked. “Truth be told, I just can’t stop thinking about the man. Tell me.” She cocked her head to the side as she looked up at the knight’s dark handsome face. “Does he already have a woman?”

  “You test me, wench.”

  “And you push me. I strongly suggest you not.”