Fire Heart: A Dragon Fantasy Romance (The Dragon of Umbra Book 1)

by Emma Hamm

  Her fingers warmed against his skin. The flames inside him rose to the surface. The part of him that remained a dragon wanted to flick out its tongue and taste the air for her scent.

  She’d seen him move. She’d tracked every moment of speed that was too fast for mortal eyes to see, and yet, she had.

  “Who are you?” he whispered.

  “I’m a woman here to see if the King has an interest in me. Nothing more, nothing less.” But her words shook as though she was shocked to realize that he had noticed she was different.

  She’d have to do better than that if she wanted to hide from the eyes of the Umbral King and his Knights. And there would be many Knights at the party tonight. The King went nowhere without his protection.

  Even now, those Knights could be hiding in the woods, waiting for her to make one wrong step.

  He feared he would cause that misstep.

  Because he didn’t think for a second that she was mortal. Not now that he was looking down into the depths of those seascape eyes and could see just how much she was willing to lie.

  Leaning down so close that he could feel her breath on his face, he muttered, “I don’t think you’re entirely human, are you?”

  She rotated her wrist around his, the jerking movement so sudden that he didn’t have time to stop her. One moment, their hands were raised, the next, he’d slapped himself across the face.

  Reeling, he spun away from her with a startled laugh.

  "I don’t take kindly to anyone claiming I’m something I am not," she snarled. But the wildness in her gaze already betrayed her. “You have a lot of nerve to walk through the woods on your own and then accost a woman who is meant for the King.”

  “You’re meant for something far greater than that,” he corrected. His cheek stung. She’d really made him slap himself so hard that he feared there might be a handprint on his face when he arrived at the party.

  This woman... Who was she?

  Mouth ajar, he couldn’t help but look at her with no small measure of surprise. Abraxas hadn’t met a woman like this in years. And if he didn’t know any better, or hadn’t been warned not to suggest she was something so dangerous, he would swear she was an elf.

  Their kind was always fiery. There were days in both their kind’s history when the elves and dragons had lived together. Some of them had even chosen to ride beasts like him, though that age was long ago. The King would be sure to kill anyone who dared to do that. Even he hadn’t ridden the last mighty dragon.

  Still. If she was an elf, he suddenly had a sense to protect her at all costs.

  He cleared his throat, chuckled again, then rubbed his sore cheek. “I’ve been forewarned, Lady of Starlight.”

  “Stop calling me that,” she growled.

  For the first time, he noticed she held a net in her other hand. She’d tucked it against the gauzy fabric of her skirt, so close to the fabric that he hadn’t noticed it before.

  “Why do you have a butterfly net?” he asked, then pointed at the small object in her hands. “I’ve been to a lot of Borovoi’s parties, but I cannot say that I’ve ever seen someone walking around with a weapon in their hands.”

  She looked down at the object as though she had entirely forgotten she was holding it. “Oh. We’re supposed to catch butterflies for the evening and they’ll give us all a special power. The magic is only supposed to last a couple of hours, you see. Borovoi thought it would give everyone something to talk about.”

  Dangerous choice, but the leshy knew how to play the King well enough.

  “Ah, of course, he had some trick up his sleeve. It wouldn’t be a Borovoi party if people weren’t thrust into danger.” He looked at the net, then back at her.

  If this woman wanted to continue claiming that she wasn’t part creature, or entirely a magical creature, then he was afraid he would have to challenge her. After all, what was a party without a little drama?

  Abraxas told himself that he was just causing mischief, but in the end, he wanted her to leave. He wanted her to run from this place and give up the idea of being with a king. She was too beautiful. Too intriguing.

  Zander would eat her alive.

  He took another step toward her, chuckling when she raised her hand again. “I must ask that you not slap me again, lady.”

  “I didn’t,” she replied with a glint in her eyes. “You slapped yourself, sir.”

  He supposed she was right. No one could argue that he had done the slapping and that the mark on his face was the size of a man’s hand. “I understand that. However, I’m arriving to the party quite late and I did not get my hands on a net.”

  With a swooping movement, he snagged the net from her hands and held it behind his back.

  “Well, I still need to capture myself a butterfly,” she stammered.

  “So do I.” He gestured at her dress, even daring so far as to touch one of the butterflies over her heart. His finger brushed briefly over smooth, velvet skin. “And it appears you have plenty of them to yourself, Lady of Starlight. You’ll have to forgive me while I take this opportunity to look like I’m not as late as I was.”

  “Hey!” she shouted, but it was far too late for her to stop him.

  Abraxas raced from the clearing, only pausing at the edge of the leshy’s magic. Of course she’d followed him. The woman was a fighter, like him.

  She stood at the very edge of the forest, butterflies floating around her in the air. Her hair glimmered in the moonlight, and the only thing that ruined the image of some goddess who had walked out of the trees was the angry expression on her face.

  He grinned. “My name is Abraxas, if you’re wondering.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “I would have your name, lady. If only so that I might think of it in the night while I dream.” He waved the net in the air. “I plan to capture myself a power for the evening and then plan our wedding.”

  “As if I would ever fall for a man like you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and her jaw jumped. “My name is Lorelei.”

  He clutched his chest as though an arrow had pierced his heart. “A beautiful name. One I will surely never forget.”

  “It would be hard to forget the name of the woman who ruined you for all others.” Though her words were sarcastic, he could see she had eased to his antics. Perhaps she saw something in him as well. Some part of her that was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. “You best run to the party and find your power, sir. Otherwise, the King will surely outshine you.”

  “Him?” He shrugged. “Never.”

  Abraxas plunged through Borovoi’s magic and into the clearing beyond. He felt lighter than he had in years. As though she’d somehow given him a gift. He might be the last dragon and he might be in a contract with a horrible king who wanted to destroy the very realm they all lived in.

  But a woman like that still existed. He could feel the power of her soul calling out to him. There was unfinished business between them.

  He could only hope to see her again.

  Chapter 9

  Lore

  Who was that man?

  Lore watched him disappear into the party, but her heart refused to stop thundering in her chest. She’d never felt such an instant attraction to anyone in her life. And she’d seen handsome men in Tenebrous, although they were always dirty and covered with grime. Perhaps that was the difference. She’d never seen a man that was clean and dressed so well.

  Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t go to the party looking for him. She had to find the King and impress him, but now she wouldn’t have a power like the rest of the people there. Or at least, a fake power.

  Would that look odd? She was quite certain it would. Even though everyone had become the magical version of themselves, she couldn’t walk into that party as the only person without a power. Then she would be the odd woman out and the King wouldn’t like that.

  He’d gone through a lot of effort to make sure that Borovoi’s party was differen
t. Obviously he wanted everyone to fall in line and look the part, or unlike themselves, she supposed.

  But she didn’t have a butterfly.

  The leshy’s magic would likely be useless in changing her powers, anyway. She hadn’t seen a lot of magic that could give more to a magical creature, and maybe that was the King’s plan. If someone was magical in the audience, then he would be able to see that by the person who wasn’t affected.

  It was all a great trap; she realized. A trap that would weed out anyone in the rebellion if they weren’t capable of showing their power in a way that was simplistic. Like Borovoi had meant for it to happen.

  Tilting her head back, she stared up at the moon. “Why?” she asked the mother of all Silverfell elves. “Why did it have to be like this?”

  The moon didn’t respond, but when did she?

  Lore had spent a lot of time collecting her power from the moon. It was slow going. Maybe that was why the Silverfell elves were rarely thought of as powerful creatures. They were deadly in battle, but only because they didn’t rely on their magic. They relied on their own knowledge of how to fight.

  Tonight, it seemed, she would have to use all the power that she’d gathered for months now.

  Lore sighed and let her magic seep out into her skin. She hadn’t used the moon’s magic in a while. It took some time for all that power to come to the surface. But, by the time she was done letting it free, her skin glimmered like a thousand stars covered her from head to toe.

  Would the man who had seen her know what she was? He’d already alluded that she wasn’t human. How dare he! But obviously now she had become what he’d called her.

  Lady of Starlight.

  It had a nice ring to it, even if the words could get her killed.

  Lore lifted her arm and stared down at all the stars embedded in her skin. It was beautiful, especially up close. Silverfell elves had always looked like gods and goddesses when they ran through the forest like this. She remembered the ceremonies where so many of them had worshiped the moon, then ran through birch groves with white stags at their sides.

  Those were the good days. The days before the King.

  She shouldn’t fall into line with the rebellion this easily. They wanted what other people didn’t. Freedom. A life where magical creatures were back in charge.

  The King’s rule suited the mortals, not the magical creatures. Another war was on the horizon and if she didn’t choose a side, then she would be swept away by the tides of change.

  Lore knew that.

  She stepped into the party with these thoughts riding on her shoulders. Knowing without question that she had only a few more days before she had to throw herself into this assassination attempt. To pick a side.

  And she already knew what side she’d choose. Even before she saw the King.

  He stood at the front of a large crowd, gesturing with his hands as though he were a magician. A massive group of young women stood in front of him. They all swayed with his hand movements, as though they were part of the music he thought he was playing.

  They’d all fallen under his spell already. Clearly. Each one of them watched him with rapt attention and hungry eyes. They wanted to be queen. They wanted the power only he could give them, even though they had to know that authority was minimal and weak.

  She stood at the back of the crowd, unsure of what she should do next. Had he already called all the eligible ladies to the front? Was that where all the bridal candidates stood?

  She really shouldn’t have been late. Her own need to get her head on straight could cost her the entirety of this mission. She might as well walk into the arms of one of the Umbral Knights and give herself up now.

  If Margaret didn’t kill her first.

  Damn it, she had already botched this job. How had she done that so quickly?

  As she mused on a new way to get the King’s attention, she didn’t notice the quiet hush that fell over the crowd. She noticed once everyone fell into utter silence, however. Lorelei looked up and met the eyes of the King.

  He’d stopped moving. Frozen, so to speak, in front of all those beautiful women who vied for an ounce of his attention. And yet, here he was. Staring at her.

  Lore swallowed hard, lips parting in a deep breath as she stilled herself for the moment he remembered what she was. The King surely hadn’t forgotten the power of the elves. There were legends that spoke of Silverfell and how all her people had glittered with starlight. He must remember. Any moment now, he would send the Umbral Knights to make an example of her for his party.

  Instead, he lifted his hand and stretched it out to her. “My lady,” he said, his voice shattering through the silence. “Where did you come from?”

  Oh no.

  Lore didn’t like so many eyes on her, and suddenly her tongue wouldn’t move. Her lips remained parted, as though she would speak at any moment, but then she never did.

  This was the first time she’d ever seen the King. In her mind, she had conjured the image of a man made of nightmares and shadows. A disgusting individual with a horrible face who was too large to fit through doorways. A monster who devoured everything in his path. That had fit her thoughts of him.

  But the man at the front of the crowd was handsome. He had a pleasing face with angular features and perfect symmetry. The wings of gray hair at his temple made him seem more approachable, and certainly added to his attractiveness. Yet there was something in his eyes. A darkness, perhaps, or a hunger that he had never satisfied.

  A smile spread across his face, warming the cold edges of steel that made up his jaw and cheekbones. “Is that part of the magic? Borovoi, you outdid yourself with this one! Beauty and silence? You’ve created a mystery woman who, I must admit, I cannot look away from.”

  She glanced over at the leshy, who pressed a finger to his lips. So she would stay silent. That was probably for the better.

  Then she noticed the man from the woods. He stood just behind the King, easy to miss amongst the shadows. His eyes burned as he met her gaze, his jaw clenched so hard she could see the outline of his muscles quaking. And as the King eyed her, the other man curled his hands into fists.

  Borovoi strode to the King’s side and proclaimed, “This is Lorelei, my king. Her beauty far surpasses any magic I could conjure, I’m afraid. Whatever spell she has cast upon you, that is not my doing.”

  “Dangerous words,” the King replied. “And yet, I am intrigued. Come here, my splendid.”

  Splendid? Ugh. The title put a foul taste in her mouth. It was like he already thought he owned her, and as the King of this realm, she had to assume he did.

  Her feet dragged across the ground. She didn’t want to look graceful, because that would only tempt the King more. By the look in his eyes, the hunger that heated with every one of her movements, Lore knew she had failed.

  He watched her like a predator watched its prey, and the weight of his eyes made her skin itch.

  The other women in the crowd were displeased. Even the girl who had tried to warn her away watched her with fire in her eyes. They didn’t like it that someone else had stolen their moment with the King. Some of them had probably spoken with the King already. They thought they had gotten the upper hand over all the other women and then in she walked.

  A woman with stars for skin. The power wasn’t nearly as impressive as some of the others. One girl’s hair moved on its own. Another had butterfly wings for lashes. Yet another had clothing that had turned to water and now everything was on complete display.

  None of them had convinced the King to publically call out to them. Instead, it was her. Lorelei.

  The elf.

  Swallowing hard, she stopped in front of the King and sank to her knees. She meant it to look clumsy and forgetful, as though she didn’t know how to curtsey. Borovoi’s magical gown had other ideas, however.

  The fabric billowed around her, falling with such grace that she looked like a flower laying to rest at the King’s feet. Damn the le
shy and his magic. He’d only made all of this more difficult for her.

  The King reached down and tucked a finger underneath her chin. Slowly, he tilted her face up until he could see all of her. “Where have you been hiding?” he asked, with no small amount of awe. “I’ve never seen you in Tenebrous, before.”

  She should lie. She should keep her mouth shut.

  Lorelei should make up some grand story about how she had fallen from grace, or that she was some elderman’s daughter who had been forgotten in a closet somewhere. Anything but the truth.

  And yet, she had no interest in remembering a lie. If she were going to kill the King, then she wanted him to know exactly who had done it.

  “I have no family, my king.” The words grated, and she had difficulty hiding a wince. “No father. No home. I have come in the hopes that you would see a poor woman like me, and find some use in my beauty.”

  “So you can speak, after all.” He tilted her head with an easy flick of his wrist. “You mean to say that you’re homeless?”

  “Not quite. There are homes for people like me, and those who are willing to do what it takes to survive.” There, that should disgust him. She’d all but alluded to being a lady of the night.

  Instead, his eyes flashed with even more interest. His cheeks turned bright red, and she knew it wasn’t with embarrassment. “My, my. I didn’t think to find a woman like you in the crowd of Tenebrous’s best women, and yet, here you are. The woman I’ve been searching for my entire life, it seems.”

  No.

  No, please, she wasn’t that woman. She wanted to live in the shadows, not to find the King’s favor. Lorelei let her eyes drift shut lest he see the horror radiating through her entire body.

  Apparently, the King didn’t care. He took his finger away from her face and proclaimed, “Join the others! Tonight is one for revelry and dance. Soon I will choose the women I bring home with me to the castle, and you shall see the glory of your king.”