ZS- The Dragon, The Witch, and The Wedding - Taurus

by Amy Lee Burgess

  “What did I just say? Do you even listen to me at all?”

  “I’m listening,” I told him. “If you don’t shift soon, we’ll be the last back. Looks like they’re waiting for us, but I bet they’re mad.” I made a face. “Dragons are always mad, aren’t they? Grumpy.”

  Donovan shook his finger at me, first opening, and then closing his mouth, as if he’d thought better of whatever he’d wanted to say.

  “Witches are impertinent,” he muttered.

  “I’d rather be impertinent than grumpy,” I said, standing back so he had room to shift.

  Donovan paused to stare at me, his mouth tight. “Look, I know you’re riding high on the strength of your so-called win against Balthasar, but did it ever occur to you he was being magnanimous?”

  I planted my hands on my hips. “Are you saying he let me win?”

  Donovan nodded, an impatient smile lifting his lips. “He’s a wise man. Nearly a thousand years old. He’s a master of diversion. He didn’t want your sister killed any more than you did. You played right into his hands. So under the circumstances, I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you. Especially since we’re going to Zodiac Mountain where nobody wanted you to win in the first place.”

  “What happened to wanting a wife who stood up for herself?” I wondered, wishing the villager wasn’t avidly taking the conversation in.

  “There’s a difference between standing up for yourself and being a clown, little witch.” Donovan shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe he had to tell me these things.

  A spurt of flame ignited in the grass encircling him. The flames flared high, obscuring him from view. When they died down, a massive green dragon stood where once-human Donovan had.

  Tentatively, the village man approached him. Still smarting at Donovan’s words, I watched the villager secure the chair mount, then hurry away.

  Donovan extended one of his front legs, obviously expecting me to use it to help me climb onto his back.

  Cursing my voluminous skirts, I snatched them up to get them out of my way.

  “Marley!” called my mother. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

  Slowly, I turned to face her. The whole coven stood behind her, their faces full of sorrow. Renata wept silently. Great tears coursed down her stricken face.

  A lump rose in my throat. This morning I’d awakened in my mother’s cottage. Tonight, I would sleep in my dragon husband’s bed, far away atop Zodiac Mountain. This was the end of an era. Although I was long grown, this almost felt as though I were crossing the threshold from child to woman.

  “Be happy if you can.” Mother held out her arms, and I fell into them, choking back tears. I would not cry—especially in front of Donovan.

  Mother buried her face in my neck and wept, giving way after holding back for so long.

  Grandmother put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. I rocked my mother in my arms and whispered in her ear, “Oh, please don’t cry. This is a beginning, not an ending. And I think my husband is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.”

  “Handsome doesn’t matter,” gasped my mother between tears. “Kindness does. Compassion matters. Is he those things as well?”

  “I think so,” I said, ever the optimist.

  “Don’t let him keep you away from your family,” Grandmother told me, her eyes as solemn as I’d ever seen them.

  “He is standing right here,” Donovan rumbled in his dragon voice. “I would remind you that she’s my family, too. She’s not going to be alone.”

  “I meant this family. Her witch family,” Grandmother said, glaring at Donovan.

  “Her dragon family,” Donovan said, his eyes beginning to whirl red, “will not keep her from her witch family. Now, please say goodbye and let her go before you drown her with your damn tears.”

  Grandmother kept her gaze locked with Donovan’s, refusing to look away first.

  Donovan snorted, smoke erupting from his nostrils, but he turned his head to look at the sky, which had emptied of all but three dragons who continued to circle patiently.

  “Goodbye, Mother.” I gently extricated myself from her clinging arms, then gave all my coven sisters a brief hug while Donovan snorted and stamped in the background.

  “Finally,” Donovan muttered as I settled myself in the chair mount. I let out a small scream when he began running across the green to gain momentum to launch himself into the air.

  “I’m not strapped in!” I yelled, scrambling desperately with the cinch ties that would hold me in the chair mount.

  “Then I suggest you hurry.” Donovan snaked his head around to look at me. Dragons couldn’t grin, but I swore I could detect his mental smirk.

  I barely had time to tie off the last cinch before we were airborne. Donovan’s wings swept up and down powerfully. The wind rushed at me, blowing the floral circlet off my head. It fluttered to the ground. My cousin Eileen ran to retrieve it and held it aloft as she waved goodbye.

  The village green shrank to the size of a miniature coin. Great tree trunks thinned to stick-like proportions. How high would we go?

  Donovan’s green hide gleamed in the slanting afternoon sunlight. Biting my lip, I reached out to stroke it. Was he soft as I remembered from my childhood?

  “Have I given you leave to touch me?” he rumbled, sounding irritated. I snatched my hand away as if contact with his skin burned me.

  The magnificent view from dragonback distracted me from my hurt feelings. Entranced, I gripped the sides of the chair mount and watched as Zodiac Mountain loomed closer and closer. For better or worse, I was committed. This would be home for the rest of my life.

  Chapter 5

  The two blue dragons and the green folded their wings after gliding to perches atop Zodiac Mountain. They watched Donovan arrow in toward a large opening in the rock. I huddled down as we zoomed thorough it, convinced we were going to scrape the sides of the rock before smashing into a stone wall once inside.

  Instead, we soared across a massive expanse of green grass and flowers. The top of Zodiac Mountain. Twelve more caverns opened up in the stone ringing the arena.

  “Tauria dragons pass through the second portal,” Donovan told me as he hovered above the grass before touching down light as a feather. “That staircase there.” He extended his neck toward a staircase carved out of the mountain rock. “Stay off the other staircases. They belong to the other dragon clans. The grassy arena is our common area, but if you think Tauria dragons are grumpy, don’t even try to speak to a dragon from another clan. They’ll kick your ass as soon as look at you. We don’t like each other much.”

  “Fighting’s allowed here?” I gingerly undid the straps binding the chair mount to Donovan’s back so he could shift, aware that the two blue dragons were winging their way to the arena floor behind us. The green was nowhere to be seen.

  “No,” Donovan said after he’d shifted back to human form. I goggled at his naked body. Where were his clothes? He’d had clothes when he’d shifted to dragon. “But don’t push your luck. Especially since you’re a witch.”

  I couldn’t stop staring at his lean, yet muscular body. I had never seen such a magnificent male. Certainly not without his clothes on.

  Donovan rolled his eyes. “Like what you see?”

  “What happened to your clothes?” My voice came out in a shrill squeak that horrified me.

  “Burned up when I shifted.” Donovan shrugged. “Happens every time. I have a spare change of clothing in the bag attached to the chair mount if you’re that offended by so much flesh.”

  I scurried to the chair mount and struggled to undo the buckles fastening the bag shut.

  Behind me I heard a familiar sneering laugh and wasn’t surprised when Val sauntered up to Donovan. Like him, she was buck naked.

  “Staring is rude, witch,” she snarled at me, then laughed again, tossing her hair. Rabb strolled to her side, but at least he had on a pair of pants. He held her gown and his shirt over one arm and gave m
e a distinctly unfriendly look.

  He tossed the gown at his wife. “Get dressed.”

  She made a big production out of pulling the gown over her slender body. Tall and lithe, her legs never seemed to end. Not for the first time, I wished I was six inches taller and five pounds lighter.

  Rabb stared at me insolently as I withdrew a pair of trousers and a shirt from the bag and held them out to Donovan.

  “I guess you won’t want to play cards tonight,” he said, raking me up and down with his gaze, as if picturing me without my clothes on and spread-eagled across a bed.

  Donovan laughed. “Not hardly. Good night, Rabb.” He casually stepped into his pants and drew them up over his muscular thighs. “’Night, Val.”

  “Don’t see why you’re bothering to get dressed when you’re just going to your chambers to screw the witch blind,” Rabb remarked, grinning. He wrapped an arm around his wife and led her toward the second staircase. “Speaking of screwing, what do you say, wife of mine?”

  She laughed and whispered something bold in his ear. He swatted her bottom, making her giggle, and chased her up the stairs.

  I averted my eyes as Donovan finished dressing. He didn’t bother buttoning the shirt, and I flushed when I turned to see his exposed chest and the line of dark hair arrowing down his belly.

  Donovan stared at me for a long moment. “I sincerely hope you’re not a virgin.”

  My cheeks burned. “For your information, I’m not.”

  He grinned. “That’s a relief.”

  I clenched my teeth. “Most men love virgins.”

  “Too much work,” Donovan drawled. “I like a woman who knows her way around a man’s cock.”

  “That figures. You’re lazy in bed. The handsome ones generally are.” I curled my lip as he hefted the chair mount and slung it across his shoulder.

  “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted,” he murmured, heading for the stairs.

  “I guess it’s a good thing I know my way around a man’s cock. If you can’t even tell when you’ve been insulted, you surely can’t tell when a woman’s having a good time in your bed. I’ll have to do it all myself.” I tossed my head and followed him.

  “I like a woman who knows how to pleasure herself almost as much as I like a woman who knows her way around my cock.” Donovan flashed me a sexy grin over his shoulder.

  “I also like to watch,” he added, laughing when I stuck out my tongue.

  “You wish,” I muttered.

  Still laughing, he led me through the portal into a long corridor beyond. Dragons in human form lingered in doorways, watching us as we made our way.

  “Your chambers would have to be way at the end,” I complained under my breath, trying to ignore the heated glares and outright hostility directed at me from every direction.

  Donovan’s sardonic grin never wavered as he made his way down to the end of the corridor, then to the left, where another corridor, just as long, waited.

  Stone floor, stone walls, stone ceiling. Every step made it harder to breathe as I imagined the walls narrowing in to crush me between them, all while dragon folk laughed at me.

  The stone had been painted with some sort of luminous coating which gleamed in the light cast by flickering torches bolted to the wall every few yards. The rock was cold beneath the soles of my slippers. I would need warmer footwear if I didn’t want to freeze.

  Warmer clothes as well. Outside it was summer, but in here it might as well have been a crisp, autumn day. I shivered in my silk gown.

  “Don’t worry, dearie,” called a woman with coal-black hair standing in a doorway. She wore a sheer nightgown outlining every curve of her voluptuous body. “That dragon husband of yours will soon warm those witch’s bones.” She cackled laughter, then disappeared inside her chambers.

  “At least the walls are soundproof.” I hurried after Donovan’s lengthy stride. He’d apparently forgotten how short I was.

  “Why? You planning on making a lot of noise?” Donovan stopped to give me an interested smile before abruptly stopping before a wooden door on the right-hand side of the corridor.

  Not expecting him to stop, I nearly cannoned into him. He grabbed my arm to steady me, and the heat of his fingers against my flesh sent a wave of passion throughout my body.

  “I was talking about you,” I told him primly, making him give a great shout of laughter before he opened the door and ushered me inside.

  His chambers consisted of a huge great room containing a small kitchen and two hearths—a large one, and a smaller one in the kitchen area. A short hall led to what I presumed must be a bedroom and a bathroom.

  Comfortable furniture filled the room. Donovan slung the chair mount into a corner and crossed to the larger hearth to light the fire, which, hopefully, would dispel the chill.

  I crossed to the table and chairs. Tentatively, I touched the thatched ladder back of one of the chairs.

  “This looks like Papa’s work,” I whispered.

  “It is,” Donovan said, his back to me as he coaxed the fire into life. “Wedding gift. I’ve unpacked all your clothes in the bedroom and displayed all the small belongings I found in your trunks.” He spared me a look over his shoulder. “They arrived yesterday. I wanted this place to look a little like home right from the first time you walked through the door.”

  A lump rose in my throat.

  “That was very thoughtful,” I said, running my hand along the smooth wood of the table. Papa had fashioned this table. For me. For us. Homesickness rushed through me, but I banished it. A person could have more than one home.

  Rich tapestries hung on the walls beside shelves crammed with ornaments and other knickknacks.

  Donovan saw me staring and smiled. “Dragons like collecting things. Little, big, it doesn’t matter. If it gets too crowded in here, let me know. I can put some of the things in my treasure chamber.”

  “I like it,” I said, looking around.

  “I’m glad.” Donovan held his hands out to the fire. “Come here, little witch. Sit on the hearth rug with me and warm up.”

  The flickering firelight stroked his face as a lover might, highlighting golden streaks in his brown hair. For once I couldn’t see the green of his eyes. At least, not until I drew closer, my skirts rustling loudly around my unaccountably trembling legs.

  He held out his hand, and I let him grasp mine and pull me down to the fur rug in front of the fireplace. Warmth struck my cheek, and I turned instinctively to the flames, letting the heat bathe me.

  “You look like a contented cat,” Donovan remarked.

  I opened my eyes, startled. How long had I been curled up on the hearth rug ignoring him?

  “All the anticipation of the day has sort of spilled out of me. I’m sorry. This was the first moment of peace since I opened my eyes this morning.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

  “My little witch has grown into a beautiful woman,” he said, a touch of wistfulness in his tone. “I can’t believe how lovely you are, Marley.”

  When he spoke my name, desire drifted through me. How could a name on his lips produce such heat between my legs?

  “Donovan...” I trailed off in dismay. Every time I called him by his name, he chastised me.

  “Go ahead,” he urged. “Say my name as much as you like. No one but me can hear you. I want you call me by my name. Say it again.”

  Sucking in my breath, I gathered my courage. “Donovan.”

  He closed his eyes, as if savoring the sound.

  “Do you think the king would be angry if he knew how pleased I was at my punishment?” he asked, opening his eyes. They gleamed like dark emeralds in the firelight.

  I touched the jewel between my breasts.

  “Are you really pleased? You’re not just saying that?”

  “When I heard I would be marrying the witch named Marley, I couldn’t believe my luck,” Donovan told me. “Fate has treated me well. I can only hope you feel the same. And if you don�
�t,” he lowered his lids, his voice sending sultry shivers down my spine, “I hope I can make you feel the same.”

  “Kiss me,” I said, wanting to feel his mouth against mine again. Only, this time we were alone, not on display in the village green.

  I closed my eyes as he moved close to me and pressed his lips to mine. He groaned when I opened my mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

  “Little witch,” he said, pushing me gently onto my back so he could straddle me. “Oh, little witch. I want to make this night memorable for you.” He slid one hand beneath my skirt and pushed it up so he could run his palm along my quivering thigh.

  I kissed him frantically, digging my fingers into his hair. The fire snapped behind the grate, and I gasped as he stroked my pussy.

  “I want to taste you,” he whispered against my mouth. “Prove to you that this handsome man is not lazy when it comes to pleasuring his wife.”

  I helped him pull up my skirts, exposing me. He settled between my thighs, darting his tongue rapidly in and out of my wet slit.

  I couldn’t see him above the white froth of my wedding gown bunched up between us, but I could feel him. He rubbed his stubbly cheeks against my thighs, and I sighed as he slid two fingers inside me.

  “Donovan.” I bucked beneath his mouth and fingers as he coaxed me higher and higher. “Oh, Donovan! I can’t! I can’t stand this!”

  He paused for a moment to torture me even more, before returning to his sweet work.

  I cried out as I came, writhing beneath his expert touch, wanting more. Wanting him.

  He moved up my body, his face appearing above my gown, his eyes glowing in the firelight. At some point he’d removed his clothes, and the hot press of his cock against my wet pussy made us both groan.

  “Marley,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to mine as he thrust inside me.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist, allowing him deeper access, and clutched at his shoulders as he increased our pace.

  “Marley,” he said again, his eyes wide. I slid my hands down his sweat-slicked back and cupped his ass as he slowed his thrusts.

  The world hazed over as we moved together in unison, finding the secret pleasure spots of each other’s bodies and committing them to memory.