by April Reid
Mentally she sighed as her young brother stepped into the kitchen and bowed first to Tanna, then to Sizzoff. “Please accept my apologies, Master Chef and Fire Master. I'm sorry my childish prank caused you distress."
The chief cook had always shown a soft spot in her heart for the younger children of the family compound. A smile flickered across her lips before she assumed a stern expression. “Your prank has caused turmoil. A wizard of Avalonia must at all times practice self-discipline."
Sizzoff slipped halfway out of his sleep box, as his color changed to a more normal orange and red. His crest still flickered. He stared at Jax and shook one claw.
::The young male is deaf to mind speech. Ask him what guarantee he givesss that he will not teasssse me again.::
Ashlyn relayed the question to her brother.
He rubbed his nose with the back of one hand and stared down at his woven grass sandals as if he'd find the answer at his feet. “I dunno—maybe promise to never tease you again."
The fire salamander paced back and forth in front of his sleep box, then stopped in front of Jax. He looked at Ashlyn. ::Tell this sssson of High Wizzzzard Galatyn Priam Tosssscano I will accept his promise one more time. If he breakssss it, I will follow through with my threat and report thissss household to my guild and to the Ccccircle of Sssseven.::
When she conveyed the message to Jax, his shoulders slumped. He bowed to everyone in the kitchen, even Mary—which made her giggle—and wandered out the door to the garden.
The fire salamander scuttled up the slanting ramp to the stove and started a robust flame under the cooktop and side oven.
While Tanna busied herself with breakfast preparations, Ashlyn pulled a chunk of amber out of her belt pouch and offered it to Sizzoff. ::Fire Master, please accept this sweet burning firestone as token of thanks.::
The salamander twined around her ankles three times in thanks, then went back to its sleep box with the amber carried gently between its teeth.
* * * *
The summons from her father caught Ashlyn in the middle of discussing the need for more raw minerals for her father's spell-making and the purchase of new sheets and towels for the household with the housekeeper.
After a quick check in the mirror to tidy her hair, she hurried to her father's office. When she stepped inside and saw her mother, Carrissa, and the very pregnant second wife, Evelina, seated on either side of him, Ashlyn knew something important was about to happen, but what?
"Come in, first daughter Ashlyn,” her father said. “We have good news for you."
As she crossed the thick dark blue, red, and old gold rug covering the polished wood floor, Ashlyn ventured a quick glance at her mother, but was met by a carefully blank expression. Not good. Her mother didn't approve of what was happening, but wouldn't go against her husband.
A glance at Evelina showed the wisp of a satisfied smile. Really not good.
Her father's personal secretary placed a chair facing the three spouses and then left the room.
Ashlyn's mouth went dry. Oliver's absence meant the discussion would be family business only. Worried, she searched her recent activities for anything her father might consider wrong. Surely he didn't know about her carnal dreams?
Her father motioned to the chair. “Sit, sit, my daughter,” he said in a genial tone. “We have news of great import that will change your life forever."
"You've arranged more lessons in magic for me?"
He frowned. “How would that help? High Wizard Zenos has declared you devoid of any magical ability."
"Was that after my failed attempt to call fire last year? The session ended when an unexpected rainstorm flooded the fire pit."
Her mother cleared her throat. “Ashlyn, after you gave your virginity to the Pan-surrogate last year on Beltane Night and it didn't open your body to magic, we accepted your lack of magical and shapeshifting abilities. On the other hand, you have valuable skills as a chatelaine to make a comfortable home."
"In spite of other drawbacks, you're bonded with a fairy-dragon,” her father added.
Evelina rubbed her swollen abdomen. “While you are magic-blind and shifter-dumb, you carry the high magic heritage which, with the right man, you can pass on to your children."
Ashlyn had a quick vision of her dream lover laying with her—slowly pushing his thick, pulsing cock into her damp, hungry sheath. She blushed and looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, to hide her expression. Had he somehow contacted her father?
Her father nodded. “I see you understand we've had an offer of marriage for you."
"Marriage?” She looked up, her heart flooding with anticipation.
"It's an unexpected and great honor,” her mother said.
"He only offered because of your father and mother's impeccable lineage,” Evelina said, with a sour expression. “That and your ability to supervise the smooth running of his household."
"Smooth running of his household?” Ashlyn wondered if her dream lover lived in New Caledon.
"You'll be his third wife, with the responsibility of making the castle compound a home, my dear daughter, but King Maldoc is interested in more than your chatelaine skills,” her mother hastened to add. “He was the Pan-surrogate who called you to him in the fertility ceremony and tried to open your mind and body to magic. He knows you have a sweet, firm body."
"King Maldoc?” Ashlyn went cold and nausea burned in her throat. “He hurt me—raped me,” she blurted out. “The dirty old goatasaur rutted on me like I was the lowest whore in the bathhouse."
Her father surged to his feet, his face red with anger. “Ashlyn Marie Toscano, your treasonous words bring shame to our household. The fact only we three have heard them saves you from death by exposure bound to the rocks of Dragon's Claw point."
In two paces he stood over her with his projective hand raised. Coils of deadly lightning danced from each finger. “You will wed King Maldoc in one month on the night of the Grass Moons or die by my own hand."
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CHAPTER 2
As the pale blush of dawn gave way to the sun rising from beyond the great ocean, Basil saw the first signs of land since he'd left the north continent the previous day. Clouds piled high in the sky over the top of a volcano far to the east.
He dropped lower and the prevailing winds from the west threatened to blow him off course.
Gods help him, he had to land on solid ground soon or tumble into the ocean.
Below him, the ocean swells deepened and lifted higher. Foam spewed from the crests and blew away on the winds.
His body ached with exhaustion. Even the negligible weight of the pack on his back had grown heavy. With each tired down-stroke, his wing muscles protested. In spite of his bone weariness, he'd pressed on through the endless hours, driven by the surety his dream lady needed his help—desperately.
His dragon-enhanced vision saw the faint lines of rippling air stretched from water to sky a short distance from the coast. Too late his tired brain recognized the danger of the magical barrier. He angled his wings in a frantic effort to sweep down and away.
One tip brushed the barrier. A jolt flashed through him. That wing fell to his side, numb. Fighting to stay airborne, he changed the angle of his other wing's sweep too late to avoid the deadly barrier. The stink of scorched hide—his flesh—mixed with pain, and he tumbled helplessly toward the churning ocean.
Normally his great wings, unfurled, would help him float. Now, hanging limp and unresponsive, they'd drag him into the watery depths. To survive, he had to shift into human form before he lost consciousness.
Those thoughts flashed through his mind even as he plunged into the angry swells.
Paddling hard with clawed back and front feet to stay on the surface, he reached into the depths of his mind and initiated the change. The first few prickles played through his mind and across his hide. With the same force of will that had carried him through starvation and the raging thir
st of his vision quest at the age of twelve, he clung to consciousness until his body registered the wash of churning liquid on sensitive human flesh. By instinct, he looped the strap of his pack over one shoulder, dove deep under the barrier, fought to the surface long enough for a gasp of air, and then sank into watery oblivion.
* * * *
Ashlyn directed her mare, Moonstone, down the curving trail through the North Coast foothills to Shelter Cove. Her packhorse, the sorrel gelding, Foxfire, followed on its lead-line.
The constant west winds snatched at her cloak and rippled the loose kut'n pants and tunic she wore.
At a point where the trail widened into a level bench, she brought her mare and the gelding to a halt, giving them a chance to rest before traveling down the final steep, rocky way to their destination for this first night.
Pepper and Hawthorne landed on a convenient boulder nearby.
She slipped out of the saddle, dropped the reins to ground tie the mare, and smiled at her forever friend, Pepper, and the female fairy-dragon's mate, Hawthorne. “We all needed a break. It's been a long trip from home. Shelter Cove is only the first stop to replenish father's list of raw, unaltered minerals for his laboratory."
Pepper flipped her pale gold with blue-flecked wings, then smoothed them at her side. ::You needed peace and quiet away from the endless twittering of the Toscano maramas.::
"You can say that again. Mother and Marama Evelina are deep in making elaborate plans for my coming marriage to King Maldoc.” She shuddered at the idea, and Pepper crooned gentle reassurance.
Nodding her thanks, Ashlyn continued. “They flutter and preen because a member of their household will become the rare third wife—a privilege granted only to the king.” She closed one hand into a fist. “I have to find a way out of this cursed marriage. The Bright Goddess knows I don't want my family to suffer for my decision, but I..."
Pepper said, ::You can't bear the idea of Maldoc's hands on your body.::
"Exactly."
On the other hand, if it were her dream-lover, she mused as she swung into the saddle to continue their journey.
Her thoughts scattered when she saw the nude body of a human male sprawled facedown on the sand at the edge of the water. High tide was coming in. Great sets of breakers piled wave upon wave with a steady roar. Already the last foam of breaking waves washed over his feet and legs. If he were alive, but unconscious, he'd die when the tide was in enough deep for waves to float his body and drag him back to the sea to drown.
She sent Pepper and her fairy-dragon mate, Hawthorne, ahead to check on the man, then she hurried to reach him.
Even as she urged Moonstone down the trail as quickly as was safe for the mare and gelding, Ashlyn wondered how the stranger had breached the magical barrier protecting the island nation. Had a mage opened the way the same as was done for the handful of carefully controlled outlander traders or for the fisher-folk who harvested the deep-water seafood?
Her gaze swept the curving coastline as far as she could see, but no boat wreckage or the bright robes and tent of a mage appeared.
While these thoughts passed through her mind, Moonstone had reached the smooth stretch of black sand where her hooves made deep, dragging depressions in the dry sand.
Pepper mentally called, ::He's alive. Hurry.::
To save her mare from injuring herself in the unsteady footing, Ashlyn slipped off Moonstone's back, dropped her cloak, and slogged across the beach as rapidly as possible.
Hawthorne, his great black-and-gold wings spread wide on guard, nosed the body. ::He smells of shapeshifting,:: he mentally said, his thoughts colored by suspicion, as Ashlyn knelt in the wet sand beside the stranger.
"So does nearly everyone else in Avalonia, but I appreciate the warning."
With the two fairy-dragons hovering over her shoulder, she managed to turn him over. Even that didn't rouse him, but his well-muscled chest rose and fell with each breath.
Involuntarily, her gaze traveled down the length of his powerful, bronzed body to the cock nestled in springy hair. Her heart jolted as a sense of recognition stirred in her mind. Impossible. It couldn't be her dream lover, but—compelled by an inchoate need, she touched her lips to his firm, generous mouth. At the first brush, a hungry warmth danced through her blood, as if her body already recognized what her mind yet didn't.
Incoming waves broke closer to where she knelt over the stranger and raced higher up the sloping beach. No time to wonder about her reaction.
Salty water splashed across her and poured over his body, lifting it from the sand.
Time was running out. She gripped him under his arms and began dragging him backward, farther up onto the shore.
When the water rolled back to sea, his solid body was much heavier without the liquid support. Digging her feet into the sand, she tugged on him, sliding in the deep grains with every step. His heavy body plowed furrows in the fine-grained sand, and she couldn't move him more than a few inches before another flood of water tried to reclaim him.
They were still in the danger zone.
The two fairy-dragons could help if they had something other than the man's hair or flesh for them to grip.
She whipped off her tunic, spread it beside him with enough space between him and the fabric to roll him over onto the garment.
Just as she had him settled, another, more powerful wave drenched them, stinging her skin and bare breasts.
::Pepper, Hawthorne, help.:: Grasping the bright fabric under his armpits, she repeated the set-her-feet-and-drag-backward method.
Both fairy-dragons swooped down and took a firm hold on the tunic—one on each side—adding the strength of their powerful wing strokes. Together, they slowly pulled him up the sloping beach.
Just when she thought she couldn't go any farther, Ashlyn and her mystery man reached safety above the highest reach of the tide in full flood.
Native palm trees cast spears of shade across the sand. She settled him in the welcome shelter and collapsed to her knees, gasping. Her heart thudded in her chest.
Pepper flew to Moonstone and returned with the cazleather strap of the canteen in her front claws.
Using the knife she wore tucked in its sheath on her waist belt, Ashlyn slashed off one exposed sleeve of her tunic. Uncapping the canteen, she soaked and squeezed the fabric to wash away salt, then soaked it again and squeezed a few drops of liquid on the seam of his closed lips.
"Wake up, outlander,” she murmured. “Drink so I can give you more."
Slowly, his lips parted and he licked away the drops.
"That's the way,” she crooned. Cradling his head in the crook of one arm, she dribbled more water into his mouth. Again she felt a stronger ripple of attraction, as if she should know him—had once lain in his embrace. Then the shock of his cool skin against her breast reminded her the warm winds could still chill his damp body.
::Pepper, Hawthorne, I need my herb pouch and cloak. Can you get them?::
::Of course. The herb pouch first::
Pepper quickly retrieved the pouch, brought it to Ashlyn, then both fairy-dragons flew back to Moonstone and the fallen cloak.
Still supporting the stranger's head and shoulders on her lap, she located the small, carved-crystal bottle of quist wrapped in protective layers of kut'n, and cautiously opened the container of concentrated liquid.
Just three drops, no more, she reminded herself as she once more cradled his head in her elbow. I want to revive him and temporarily prevent him from shapeshifting. Not kill him.
Using great care, she dripped one dose of the thick, purple healing stimulant between his lips. She quickly followed with a small measure of water and watched him swallow in reflex, while she monitored the pulse point in his neck.
Meanwhile, the fairy-dragons had carried the heavy garment back from where she'd dropped it, and draped the fabric across the torso and legs of the outlander.
As the quist took effect, he sighed and turned his face toward her. H
is warm breath flowed across her damp breasts. Heat swarmed in her belly. If he had this affect on her while unconsciousness, what would his nearness do when he woke?
As if in answer, his slack body tensed in her arms. His eyes opened and the world exploded. Moments later she lay on her back in the soft sand. The stranger straddled her hips without forcing her to bear the full weight of his body. His face hovered over her and he pinned her wrists to the ground above her head with his steely fingers.
"Who are you?” he asked in a harsh, accented voice. “How many travel with you?"
"T ... two fairy-dragons and the horses,” she answered, wondering how the unconscious male had so quickly awakened and taken charge.
"Who else? Surely a delectable female like you has personal guards and a lover or two to keep you safe."
"Just us.” Oh, Goddess, was he one of the men exiled from their homes for defying the Council of Seven and the king? Her stomach knotted. Did he know she was the eldest daughter of a council member?
"Release me.” She struggled to pull away, but no matter how hard she tried, his grip remained the same.
"I like a female with fire.” His head dipped down. He licked her nipples, then, still hovering over her breasts, gave her a dangerous smile. “Tastes salty, sweet, and female."
Her body clenched in desire. Her chest tightened and it became difficult to breathe—not from the weight of his body, but from awareness of her own needs.
Ever since her rape by the Pan-surrogate, she'd been sickened by thoughts of any male rutting on her body—until her dream lover had invaded her sleep.
For the first time, a real man's body made her burn for his touch. But not just any man—this ... this dangerous outlander made her body swell with wanting until she thought she'd burst.
"I feel I know you, little one. What is your name?"
"Ashlyn,” she whispered, her memory teased by the familiar timbre of his voice.
He went very still, except for a quick intake of breath. “Ashlyn? My dream lady?"