He put his finger to his lips and slipped through the door.
***
Freya surveyed the carnage. Nothing was salvageable. She sank to the floor and pulled Daisy onto her lap, wrapping her in a tight hug. The child was shaking in terror, but physically unhurt. Getting Daisy to freedom unscathed had just become Freya’s top priority.
Her child had an active imagination, but this was the first time the beast had ever reacted to it.
She laid her cheek on top of Daisy’s head and hummed a lullaby as she frantically tried to figure a way to escape.
***
Walter followed the dragon as it stomped down the stairs and into the large room at the bottom of the tower.
The moment the creature passed through the doorway, it transformed into a man and entered into a comfortably furnished room with books lining one long wall.
Walter didn’t know what to make of this at all. He’d expected some kind of cold, barren cave-like space. Not a room that could have come straight out of Lord Greymoor’s castle.
The man-dragon slumped into a chair by the fire and buried his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean to make the wee girl cry. But Freya should have been mine. They both should have been mine.”
He scrubbed his face with his hands and stood. “That bloody dragon’s damned temper. It never fails to make things worse.” He stomped to the other side of the room and yanked the blanket and pillow from his bed. As he crossed the threshold and into the outer corridor, he returned to his dragon form.
Walter followed him back up the stairs to the upper tower room, but remained at the doorway and out of sight. He couldn’t risk the little one seeing him and causing the creature to have another fit of temper.
The dragon unlocked the door, threw the bedding into the room, and stalked off down the stairs without a word.
The creature became human once more the moment he entered the downstairs room.
He pulled a book from the shelves and extracted a well-worn piece of parchment with one torn edge from between the pages. He placed the book on the table before returning to his seat by the fire. He unfolded the page in his hand and read aloud. “The dragon will give way to the man only when he’s drawn the virgin’s blood of a flame-haired woman.” He leaned back against the back of the chair, closing his eyes as he rested his head. “It had to be her. She’s the only flame-haired woman I know. It had to be her. If only I had acted sooner.”
Hours later, the man-beast fell into a fitful slumber and Walter gave up on learning anything more from him.
***
Greymoor wasn’t the least bit surprised when he woke to Walter sitting on his bed sporting a wide grin. He just sighed. No doubt the ghost had found him yet another perfect mate. He looked forward to the day when Walter directed his match-making tendencies in a different direction. “What now?”
“I’ve found Freya.”
The words sent Greymoor’s heart racing so fast, his head felt light and he feared he might pass out. He took a moment to calm himself, certain he’d misheard. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’ve found Freya.”
“Walter, I don’t even want to know how or what you know about Freya, but if this is some kind of jest, I don’t find it amusing at all.”
“No jest, my lord. I’ve found her.”
Greymoor stared intently at Walter, looking for any sign that the ghost was playing him false. Deep in his heart, he knew Walter would never play such a cruel joke, but after so many years without any hint of his love, he found it difficult to accept the news at face-value.
“Where is she?”
“In the Northern Marches. She’s being held captive by a dragon.”
A dragon? How utterly ridiculous. Greymoor immediately regretted allowing hope to spark. How could Walter do such a horrible thing? It didn’t make sense. Perhaps life in the spirit world was affecting his sanity. Greymoor let his hurt feelings take control.
“Get out! Get out, and never come back. I took you at your word. How dare you play such a foul trick on me.”
“It’s no trick, my lord. I promise. There really is a dragon—”
Greymoor pointed at the door and bellowed. “Out!” He then silently maintained his position until Walter obeyed.
Once the ghost disappeared through the door, Graeme slipped out of his bed and retrieved the painting of Freya and her lock of hair from their hiding place. He returned to his bed and held the items tight to his chest. He let the tears fall as the hole in his heart grew.
***
When the beast returned, Freya had felt sure the end was near. He never returned so quickly after a fit of rage.
When the blanket and pillow came flying through the open doorway, she’d been convinced it was some kind of trick. It wouldn’t be the first time the beast had left some small comfort, only to punish her for taking it.
When Daisy began to shiver from the cold, Freya had no choice. She ordered her daughter to remain still in the corner, then crept slowly across the stone floor on her hands and knees.
Once she reached the pile by the door, she gingerly reached out for a corner of the blanket. She held it up for a few moments and listened for the beast—ready to drop it and flee back to protect Daisy.
As soon as she felt it was safe, she returned to the corner. She placed the pillow at her back, then wrapped Daisy in the blanket and settled the child on her lap.
She’d given up on the possibility of sleep when the beast had gone on his rampage of destruction, so she just closed her eyes and let the indestructible memories of that last beautiful day flood her mind.
Graeme had been so sweet and gentle. She’d had some sense of what went on between a man and a woman—even with her bright red hair, people in the house tended not to notice her presence and spoke openly of such things.
However, nothing she’d overheard prepared her for the shock of Graeme’s mouth and tongue between her legs. By the time he’d lifted his head, she thought she might die from pleasure. Her heart was pounding and her lower belly quivered as he slid his way up her body.
He kissed her gently and said, “I’m sorry, my love. It’s going to hurt for a minute and there will be a little blood. But only this first time, I promise.”
Her only regret from that day was never having the opportunity to find out if he was right. She’d only ever had that first time.
Her mind slipped into the black memories of her kidnapping. She shook her head to try and clear them away, but they were persistent.
She’d woken with a gloved hand covering her mouth. “Make a sound or try and run and I’ll slit your pretty throat from ear to ear.” She’d been so terrified, she obeyed without question.
It wasn’t until they’d left the manor grounds that she’d realised they hadn’t encountered any people. An armoured man should not have made it into the house unchecked and there should have been at least two guards on the front gate. All she could hope was they weren’t dead.
The man had barely made it to the woods with her before the dragon dropped from the sky. “Where do you think you’re going? You were supposed to bring her directly to me.”
“I was just laying a false trail.”
“Liar.”
“Truly, I was going to lead the searchers astray and then make my way to you.”
“You were going to ransom her for yourself, more like.” The dragon pulled the man off the horse and took an almighty swing at his chest, talons tearing through armour like it was made of silk. Then the dragon threw the awful man to the ground and blasted his feet with fire.
Freya squeezed her eyes shut after that. The man’s screaming was more than enough for her to bear. With her hands tied, she was unable to cover her ears against the noise.
When she felt her body being lifted from the horse, she squeezed her eyes tighter and willed herself to wake from the nightmare.
Unfortunately, it had only just begun.
She dreamed of Graeme coming to her rescue, but
as she accumulated more scars, courtesy of the beast, she feared he would take one look at her body and reject her.
No, she was nothing like the woman he’d proposed to all those years ago. Her best hope now was for Daisy to be free and Graeme to claim her. Her sweet, innocent Daisy deserved at least that much.
***
Walter was at a loss. He should have made his lord deliriously happy. Instead, he’d made him angry and sad. Not only that, Greymoor now thought him to be untrustworthy.
It was too early in the morning to pop in on Martyn and Thora. He’d made that mistake once and never again.
Martyn had, on a number of occasions, mused about the two of them bedding Thora together. Walter hadn’t been overly keen on the idea in the first place, but after popping in early one morning to see Thora bent over the bed and Martyn pumping his cock deep in her arse, he knew it was a bad idea.
Seeing Thora’s gorgeous plump arse jiggling away was too tempting. He’d wanted nothing more than to sink his cock into her at least one last time. Fortunately, Thora and Martyn had been too absorbed with each other to notice his presence. He slipped out of the room and waited until a servant arrived with their breakfast.
He thought back to what the dragon had read from that parchment. Virgin’s blood of a flame-haired woman.
There may not have been many red-haired virgins around the Northern Marches, but if the dragon had read the words exactly as written, perhaps the prophecy didn’t mean that flame-haired virgin.
In his quest to find a bride for Lord Greymoor, Walter had identified virtually every eligible virgin within a day’s ride of Iron Hill, and there was one in particular that he thought might be helpful.
He’d dismissed her as an appropriate mate for Greymoor because she was too old for him. That seemed to be the story of the poor woman’s life. She was too old for everyone worth having.
She’d been stuck caring for her invalid father in her youth, and by the time the miserable old bastard finally cocked up his toes, her only real options for marriage were widowers. Most of them were many years her senior and those who weren’t only wanted a nursemaid for their children and a warm body to fuck when they were feeling randy.
No, she’d been wise to stay well away from those kinds of disastrous marriages.
If he hadn’t seen the dragon’s remorse for his behaviour towards Freya and her child, he wouldn’t even be considering the idea of bringing another woman into the situation. But to see the creature give up his only blanket and pillow, then sleep naked and uncovered to atone for his actions made Walter feel like it might be worth giving it a chance.
When he really thought about it, Greymoor not believing him about the dragon might actually be a blessing.
There was no doubt in Walter’s mind that there would be bloodshed, and likely deaths if Greymoor led the charge to rescue Freya. And with a child involved, it was better to first try resolving the issue using brains instead of brawn.
Eadlin Swift’s eyes went wide when she opened the door. “I…I…”
He gave her his best reassuring smile. “It’s alright, Eadlin, I’m nothing but a restless spirit looking to do some good in the world.”
She smiled back. “Oh, that’s alright, then. I thought poor Thora was going to end up in trouble for having two husbands.”
“Never fear. All is as it should be with Thora. However, there are others for whom that is not the case, and I think you might be the key. Not just to their happiness, but your own as well.”
“Oh, bollocks. Go play your games with some other poor bugger.”
Why did everyone think he was jesting? He’d never been one to play tricks when he was alive, why would they think he would do so now? “No games, Eadlin, I promise.”
“I don’t know. It seems rather odd, a ghost showing up at my door out of the blue telling me I’m a key to happiness.”
“Yes, definitely odd. But can you please hear me out and try to accept what I have to say as truth?”
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to hear you out. Whose happiness are we talking about besides my own?”
“Before I begin, I need to know that what I tell you goes no further, regardless of whether you decide to help out or not.”
“It’ll go nowhere. I swear on my mother’s grave.” She shot him a cheeky grin, then said, “It’s when I swear on my father’s grave you ought to worry. I think you’d be shocked at the secrets I’ve kept over the years.”
“Good enough. First and foremost, this involves Lord Greymoor.”
“Ha! It won’t be the first secret I’ve kept involving him.”
“Maybe this is a bad idea—”
“Stop right there. I’ve only admitted to already knowing secrets about Greymoor, I’ve still not spilled them.”
Walter still felt a little reluctant to continue, but Eadlin had a valid point and he really had no other options. “Alright. A number of years ago, the woman Greymoor meant to marry disappeared. While he’d never completely given up on finding her, he’d had to scale back his search and attend to his responsibilities here in Iron Hill.”
“So, when are you going to get to the point where you tell me something I don’t already know?”
“I’ve found her.”
“That’s lovely. But I don’t understand how this involves me—you should be having this conversation with Greymoor.”
“And there’s the rub. I tried to have this conversation with him and it didn’t go well. Then, after giving it some thought, I came up with a better way to handle the whole situation. Now, can you let me finish?”
“Feel free.”
“Finding her was the easy part. Getting her back is where things get complicated. Now, before I tell you this next bit, keep your mind open, because this is the point in the story where I lost my lord’s confidence.”
Eadlin sighed. “Yes, yes. Get on with it.”
“She’s being held prisoner by a dragon…” Walter paused, waiting for the inevitable outburst of disbelief. It didn’t come. “You believe me?”
“Of course. Now hurry up, this just got interesting.”
“Well, the dragon also takes human form. I don’t know what makes him switch between dragon and man, but I’ve only ever seen it happen when he enters and leaves his room. Inside the room he’s human, outside, he’s not.”
Eadlin nodded and motioned for him to hurry up and continue.
“I’m sorry, after the day I’ve had, I’m finding it difficult to understand how easily you are accepting all that I have to say.”
“Look, I know I’ve always been considered one of the more peculiar residents of Iron Hill, but part of being odd is being open to believing in the strange and unusual. Now hurry up, the day’s wasting.”
“He read aloud a prophesy from a piece of parchment that told him what was necessary to become human and I think he’s misinterpreted it. He understood it to mean that Greymoor’s woman was the only one who could help him change.”
Eadlin leaned forward. “What exactly was the prophesy?”
“The dragon will give way to the man only when he’s drawn the virgin’s blood of a flame-haired woman.”
Eadlin slowly reached up and touched her hair. “And you thought the aging red-headed virgin would make the perfect martyr to the dragon, did you?”
“No, no, not at all. I thought you would be open to the possibility of spending your life with a man more your own age.
“I won’t lie to you. He has a vicious temper. But I also saw a tender side to him that he doesn’t show to the outside world. I could be very wrong, but I think jealousy and frustration are what spark his temper, which I think gets away from him when he’s in dragon form. Again, I could be very wrong, and I can only speak to what I saw and heard. There is no doubt that he has mistreated Freya in the past. And I will never condone that, but I can understand how his anger could flow when he thought Greymoor had ruined what he thought was his one and only chance at disposing of the dragon for g
ood.”
“So, you want me to lose my virginity to an angry dragon on the off-chance he might turn into a nice man so Lord Greymoor and this Freya woman can have their happily ever after?”
“Well… there is one more complication I haven’t mentioned yet. There is a child.”
“Of course there is. Greymoor and Freya’s child, I assume.”
“Yes.”
Eadlin stood and wandered around the room, then stopped in front of the window. She stared through the glass for a long time before returning to her seat. “I need to know more about this dragon-man before I can give you an answer.”
“What do you need to know?”
“Just one thing, really. That he won’t keep me prisoner and take his anger out on me if the prophesy doesn’t hold true.”
A reasonable request, to be sure. And while he had no idea how to go about getting such an answer for her, he was going to his best to figure one out.
“Thank you, Eadlin. Truly. Even if this doesn’t happen, the fact that you are willing to consider it is beyond generous.”
“Don’t take too long, Walter. I’m not getting any younger, and even if I say yes, this man might decide I’m too old even if we are a similar age.”
“I’ll do my best. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Eadlin started to rise, but Walter held up his hand. “No, don’t get up. I can see myself out.”
***
Freya stared in disbelief from her corner as the beast silently moved piece after piece of furniture into her prison. This was the first time he’d ever shown any kind of real compassion towards her and Daisy. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He’d given them a blanket and a pillow the night before.
By the time he finally left, still having said nothing, they had a table, two chairs, and a bed with a thick mattress. She was exhausted from her long night and dying to test the bed out to see if it was as soft and comfortable as it looked. But she was still very wary of the beast and didn’t trust that this wasn’t a trick of some sort.
Flight of Dragons Page 19