Deep River Shifters 4 Book Box Set

by Lisa Daniels

  Her words struck a chord in him. He swallowed and nodded. “I'll take it out of you. I'm sorry I... made you drink it.”

  “I understand. Just don't do it again.” She leaned to his ear and whispered, “and I might just grow to like you a whole lot more.”

  His answering grin was radiant, as he walked with her past the gargoyles, who waited impassively. “Let's go home, then,” he said, giving her one last hug.

  “Let's,” she agreed.

  More fame and glory awaited them. More Quests. More time together. And more opportunities for Ruelle to put her skills to use.

  The End

  Captured by Mokkan

  Dragons Take a Princess

  (Book 4)

  Chapter One

  Xanthia didn't appreciate the whole “being a prisoner” thing. Being inside a locked tower without the luxuries of her former life did no wonders for her temperament. Her younger sister could probably cope with the whole situation because, hey, Ruelle was a freak. She knew how to do that martial arts stuff, so she probably escaped long ago, after they both got captured at the same time by Dark Clan slavers. Xanthia, however, was a proper princess. She swallowed up the rulebook and made sure she knew everything. How to curtsy five different ways. How each kingdom liked to eat their food, and which princes were considered the hottest of today's youth. She knew the names of all the prominent Questers, and the names of the most fearsome dragons to have ever ravaged the kingdoms.

  Everything a good princess needed to know.

  Then, thanks to her stupid younger sister's curse, she'd been swept up in the whole momentum, sold in some undignified way to a dragon who liked to hoard princesses, and was now forced to share a tower with fourteen other lost princesses, all of them dressed up in scrubbing clothes.

  As usual with princesses, they established an instant pecking order, which was actually sorted by “who had the blondest hair and bluest eyes.”

  Unfortunately, since Xanthia had mousy blonde hair and dirty blue eyes, she ranked low on the list.

  Which meant she got assigned the worst chores out of all of them.

  Quietly, as she scrubbed inside the toilet, a nose peg pinching her nose, she seriously considered stabbing the head princess, Vanessa. Vanessa was such a bitchy princess name too, the kind you expected to hear from the particularly whiny and superfluous type. Vanessa had such shining golden hair that Xanthia wasn't particularly convinced Vanessa didn't cheat with it in some way. She also hosted such jaw-dropping blue eyes, glimmering like sapphire teardrops, that they ignited flames of envy within.

  Just a shame her beauty got marred by the constant uppity attitude she wore, and the absolute belief that she was the most beautiful princess on the planet.

  Her second- and third-in-command, princesses Andrea and Belle, helped to enforce her will and alpha status. With the addition of Xanthia, all the princesses relished the opportunity to put someone else down.

  The dragon that owned them all had built a reinforced glass viewing area in their tower so he could show off his fifteen princesses to all the other dragons that came. Xanthia, as the newest addition with the darkest blonde hair color, stood out. It made the other dragon visitors take notice of her. This infuriated Vanessa, who wanted everyone to be looking her way all the time.

  Xanthia finished scrubbing the toilet and massaged her knees, examining the purpling bruises from all the times she kept bashing into things.

  She stretched and pushed a hand against her back for a moment, before hearing an insistent rap from outside the bathroom.

  “Are you finished in there yet, Xanthia? I need to attend to my lady things, and if you're not done this moment, then you'll be assigned dishwasher duty as well today!”

  “I'm done!” Xanthia screamed back at Vanessa, not wanting to do those stupid dishes. Cleaning dishes from fourteen picky eaters was a constant living nightmare. No one wanted to do it. Which was precisely why Xanthia got assigned it the most.

  Vanessa burst in as Xanthia finished washing her hands. The super bitch imperiously clicked her fingers.

  “Out! Out! I don't want your dirt infecting me. Out you go!”

  “Yes, Princess Vanessa,” Xanthia replied, whilst imagining flicking the scrubbing stick all over Vanessa's gleaming hair, just to hear her shriek with shock and rage. Instead, Xanthia did nothing and stepped outside the bathroom, only to be almost tripped by Belle, who giggled in a cute and affectionate way that made Xanthia want to strangle the living daylights out of her.

  “You ought to be careful where you step!” Belle said, as Andrea nodded, smiling with her pearly white teeth and giggling in tandem with Belle.

  Just you wait. I'll have my revenge, and you're so going to regret treating me like this. I'm a princess from the central kingdoms! The audacity of you bitches!

  Full of righteous fury, Xanthia headed to the seeing room at the bottom of their vast princess tower, hoping to catch a glimpse of any Questers.

  She'd seen a few make their way to the inner cavern, possibly for show by her dragon captor, Mokkan. She never got to see much of him in his human form – he preferred wearing his green dragon form, and showing off, not just in front of dragons, but in front of his princesses, too.

  It made sense, she supposed. Xanthia could only hope Mokkan got too confident for his own good, and a Quester took him down, allowing the fifteen of them to finally escape.

  She passed one princess who sat on a sofa, brushing her hair, and she wrinkled her nose at Xanthia as if she smelled like dirt.

  “How long has it been since you've had a bath?” Princess Jackie said.

  Xanthia merely glared at her. “When one of you finally gets out of the bath long enough for me to have one,” she retorted, her irritation spiking.

  With only one bathroom and fifteen fastidious princesses, it virtually guaranteed that Xanthia rarely got any opportunities to bathe at all – not unless she wanted to line up for several hours and endure being taunted and laughed at by the others.

  Finally down on the lowest floor where the reinforced glass stretched all along near Mokkan's cave entrance, Xanthia went to one of the tattered sofas by the glass and arranged herself comfortably on it. From here, she was able to catch a brief glimpse of the outside and into Mokkan's living room, where she saw a fraction of a mahogany table, but nothing else.

  All the other princesses had managed to decorate their rooms somewhat, even the one who was bottom of the pit before, now that Xanthia had usurped the last place position.

  For Xanthia, the girl who led her sisters in games, who used to mock Ruelle for being more like a boy than a girl, who once got one of the cooking servants in trouble for adding an extra bag of flour in the soup when no one was looking, it never occurred to her that the tables might turn.

  And now she was being sucker-punched in the face by fourteen other bitches like her.

  Gods, I'm a terrible person.

  Xanthia absently plucked at her robes, like a plain brown monk's habit, with a few dirt stains embedded in her skin. Her blonde hair hung limply about her shoulders, a fragment of its former glory.

  I feel so bad for treating Ruelle as I did. What I wouldn't give right now to have her fighting skills.

  Someone walked through the cave entrance, and when he neared, Xanthia recognized him as Mokkan. Her captor. Not a visitor or Quester, like she'd hoped.

  The dragon, now in his human form, hesitated to regard Xanthia. Green eyes shone from his solid, wide features, which, upon second glance, suited him quite well. He had a bullish appearance, oddly handsome, though not in the conventional prince way, with their rapier thin cheekbones and elven faces. No – this one looked as solid as a mountain, with the muscles to back him up, and a fuzz of red hair upon his head. The kind of man who appeared aware of his body and aware of the strength he contained. He stared at Xanthia disapprovingly.

  “Excuse me. You're Xanthia, right?”

  She nodded reluctantly. At least he remembered her name.
He probably made a point of remembering all the names.

  “Why do you look so filthy? Even as a scrub maid, you should have some kind of charm to you, so everyone knows there's something special. I even released mice in the tower so you could all learn to charm animals.”

  “Oh, is that why we have a sudden infestation of mice?” Xanthia raised an eyebrow. A smile twitched her lips – she remembered the screams when they discovered about ten mice in the tower kitchens.

  Mokkan looked crestfallen. “Did no one bother bonding with them? They're magical mice. They can understand human speech.”

  Xanthia shook her head. “I think all your princesses have a phobia of small, furry things.”

  “Hmm.” Mokkan folded his large, impressive arms. They bulged out of his tunic, tapering around his bones in a way that made Xanthia want to trace the individual veins running under his skin. “But why do you look so bad?”

  “There's one bathroom, Mokkan. And fifteen princesses. Each who takes on average one to two hours to have one bath. I don't think you'd ever bathe in that scenario, either.”

  The dragon wrinkled his brow. “Hmm. I didn't think of that. No one mentioned it.”

  “Why would they? They hate you.”

  Now Mokkan let out a sigh. “I suppose it's to be expected. Alright. I'll let you out and you can have a bath in my place. You should keep yourself looking pretty.”

  Xanthia blinked at the offer. “Uh… really?”

  “Really. You look like you could do with a little pampering. But, uh – seriously. I paid a lot for those mice. Try and befriend one, will you?”

  What an odd dragon, Xanthia thought, finding his gesture oddly thoughtful at the same time. It sounded like he took the rumor of princesses being able to bond with animals seriously.

  Grateful, but not wanting to show it, because for the love of the gods, Mokkan was a freaking dragon, she hurried over to the locked door and stepped through once he unlocked it. For a brief second, she entertained the thought of just running for the exit, bath be dammed, before twenty-four years of reality caught up with her. Just exactly how far did she expect to get in the Wilderness, from a dragon who could fly at ten times the speed of her run? With a wistful sigh, Xanthia followed Mokkan into the living room, grateful that none of the other princesses bore witness to her temporary release from the tower. She'd never live it down.

  Looking at Mokkan's living room, she concluded he at least had some sense of style. Artfully crafted tapestries adorned the walls, most of them depictions of knights fighting dragons, or dragons of various colors holding stones, eyes closed as if meditating. A piano sat in the corner with a simple velvet stool by it. Her eyes took in a book shelf, a fireplace with a red rug underneath, a dining table with some kind of obscure board game on it, and guest sofas around what appeared to be a coffee table.

  Not bad. She nodded in appreciation and commented on it to Mokkan, who smiled.

  “Thanks. Many dragons are terrible at decorating their homes, but I like to look forward to coming back home, you know? To see my home, and to see my princesses.”

  Hence the enormous glass wall. Mokkan's kitchen contained several cauldrons hissing away, a hanging rack for his pots, pans, and cutlery, and a surface for preparing food on, complete with a little sink. Dust accumulated in the corners and under cupboards, suggesting the area didn't get used much.

  She didn't get to see his bedroom, but admired the spacious bathroom he held for himself.

  Mokkan tossed her a towel and told her to be no longer than an hour. He'd knock ten minutes before to remind her as well.

  “Thanks a lot,” Xanthia said, giving the dragon a smile. “Really.”

  The green eyes stared at her, slightly embarrassed. “It's not a problem. I'm... busy a lot. And I know I should spend more time trying to socialize with my princesses. I just... I'm fighting Questers a lot, entertaining guests a lot... I don't get so much spare time.”

  Xanthia shrugged at his statement. “I'd say that's kind of your fault for having so many. Most dragons are satisfied with just one. Why fifteen?”

  Mokkan pursed his lips. “I don't know. I just like collecting them. And it gets me a lot of attention. People wonder how I can keep so many.”

  Barely, Xanthia thought. She scrutinized Mokkan again. Was he a young or old dragon? With his features, he could be anything above or below the age of thirty. With so many princesses, it was a wonder Mokkan hadn't lost any. She supposed it was testimony to his cave's enchantments, and his own fighting skills. Or just how vastly incompetent all the Questers were.

  “Look, if you want to make keeping the princesses a better thing, I strongly recommend investing in more bathrooms. Like, at least five more.”

  He nodded, but didn't promise anything, and left Xanthia to it.

  It felt good to know she could bathe, though she doubted he'd be so willing to give her another chance like this. And the princesses would ask questions, of course, if they saw her come back squeaky clean.

  I can say I washed myself in a toilet. That should repel all of them for about a hundred meters each side.

  Princess Xanthia of the Cleaned Toilets. A glorious title. She waited until the bath was three-quarters full with hot water, moderated for her temperature tolerance, then she stripped off and slid into the water with a sigh.

  For a moment, she imagined Mokkan doing the same thing. Lying in this bath tub, naked, his green eyes closed, his arms sprawled along the rim, taking in the warmth after a long day doing whatever it was that dragons did.

  She shivered, her cheeks flushing from the errant thought. It wouldn't do for a princess to allow her mind to wander so. Especially not a captive one, waiting to be rescued.

  She might be waiting for an awfully long time, though. Maybe even years. Would any prince want to go for her if she came back as a wrinkly forty-year-old?

  The thought depressed her slightly, but also had the effect of bolstering her determination to stay strong and hope for the best.

  When her bathtime finished, Mokkan shyly handed her a small snack, and sniffed approvingly at the smell that emanated from her.

  “See? You're beautiful. You shouldn’t hide yourself.”

  “Well, like I said. Baths. More of them. Then maybe we'd all be less likely to want to murder you in your sleep.” She examined the food gift, which looked like a rice ball, and bit into it. “Oh! This is lovely. Where is it from?”

  “I made it,” he said. “I cook, sometimes.”

  “Wow.” Xanthia gave him a thumbs-up, and he smiled in an almost painful way, making her wonder something. Was he a lonely dragon? Was that why he collected so many princesses, like pets? Invited guests around to show them off?

  The inner workings of a dragon's mind sure was strange.

  Back inside the tower, with Mokkan shyly waving her goodbye, Xanthia considered searching out those mice he talked about.

  If they really did understand human speech, she could give the other princesses a bad, bad time.

  Chapter Two

  Lying on her bed, Xanthia watched as a little mouse dragged along a gold necklace across the floor, squeaking excitedly. Another one followed suit with a pearl earring. Then another one with a scrap of cloth torn from one of the plain work habits. Xanthia grinned at her little mouse army, and tossed them some breadcrumbs.

  “Good job, little guys. Those bitches won't know what's hit them.”

  At the mention of “bitches,” one of the mice squeaked, before covering up a smaller mouse's ears.

  “Oh. Sorry,” Xanthia apologized, guessing they didn't like swearing. Much like her parents. Although Xanthia, her brothers, and her sisters used to enjoy swearing at each other outside parental and servant supervision to see how offended everyone got.

  The mouse squeaked again before dropping the pearl earring in a crack in the floorboards, where many other princess items mysteriously went missing. Within a few days of deciding to seek out the mice, Xanthia had the entire batch lis
tening to her and running errands. They seemed to like her, and a few even slept in the bed next to her. Xanthia didn't mind; they were very cuddly, and having them around the room had the extra effect of creating an invisible barrier which no princess would ever dare cross. She might have discreetly hinted to them that it would be an awful shame if the other princesses ended up with worse living conditions, having to constantly live in fear of mice, dragons, and getting old. So, of course, they obliged, using their little furry bodies to steal from the others – especially from Vanessa and her sycophantic cronies.

  She'd sometimes go down to the bottom floor to see if Mokkan might give her another chance to bathe in his nice tub, and he let her, except when he happened to be busy. Either from battling Questers who made it to the final boss, from guests, or from other dragony things. He also gave her a wave and a smile upon sight, and his eyes seemed to twinkle upon seeing her perched on the tatty sofa, watching for him.

  Yes. He certainly likes the attention.

  With Xanthia's mouse army assembled in front of her, close to three hundred of the little creatures, she congratulated them for their findings, gave some of them kisses, making them squeak in muted embarrassment, and she stroked them behind their ears, because they happened to be rather clean creatures. She considered using them to help clear out the bathroom, but didn't want to make it too obvious that the mice listened to her.

  So, instead, she stuck to her boring chores, the scrubbing, the torment of the princesses, and quietly got her revenge in other, non-violent ways.

  “I don't understand why so many things are going missing,” Vanessa complained, now only wearing one pearl earring, leaving a gash in her other ear because she had no other matching pairs. “It's like we're haunted by ghosts.”

  “Our castle has a ghost,” Andrea said, fluttering her eyelashes vapidly. “It likes to wail and bang the pipes in the walls, and throw things at us when we pass too close.”