Lion roared one of his commands in the middle distance. It sounded like he might be in the ruins of Deathknight Castle.
“Where are you, my old friend?” Dorothy whispered, striking out into the darkness.
Lion roared over and over. She zeroed in on him, moving quickly through the darkness, avoiding humans and beastmen alike. The key to victory was Lion.
Kill the Lion King, win the battle.
The blood covering her naked body began to cool. Indeed, it became icy cold. Without the heat of battle to warm her, Dorothy began to suffer the effect of that deep chill. Even as her thoughts turned to her pavilion, and warm clothes, she spotted him.
“There you are,” she whispered.
Lion stood silhouetted against the rising moon, standing atop a hilltop. Armed and armored beastmen surrounded him, though all stood lower on the hill half-hidden in darkness. As she studied her adversary, a feminine figure joined Lion atop that hill. Locasta looked small next to the giant lion.
“Holy crap,” she whispered. “Lion has grown huge. I swear, he's six feet tall on all fours.”
She couldn't imagine how deadly such a big lion would be in a fight. He was a full pride of lions in one body. It made her hesitate.
“I have no choice.”
Dorothy stepped out of the trees. Everyone turned toward her, including Lion and Locasta. She made a show of sheathing her sword. Lion bared his teeth and purple flames erupted around the witch's hands. So Dorothy pulled both pistols.
“Hello, old friend,” Dorothy shouted. “Looking mighty…Big.”
“And you're looking small and pathetic,” Lion growled.
“Really? I'm pathetic?” Dorothy taunted. “I'm not the one cowering behind an army, with a witch at my side.”
He roared, and then leapt over his troops to land mere feet in front of Dorothy. She fell back a few steps, and almost fell on her butt. That was the last thing she expected. Who jumped that far?
She aimed both pistols at his center of mass. How many times would she have to shoot something that big before he died? The young brunette wasn't sure she had enough ammo to kill Lion, if it came to that.
A strangely compelling scent filled her senses. Her body tingled, and she felt her nipples harden and her sex grow hot and wet.
Pheromones!
Dorothy quickly shifted position, getting the wind to her back. That did the trick.
Holy crap, Nick was right about his scent. I'll have to be careful.
And then he shifted.
“Oh!” she cried, watching Lion's huge furry body rise up and become bipedal. The lion head remained, as did the tawny fur all over his body. But it was a big, broad-shouldered male body before her. “Wow. How human can you become?”
In answer, Lion continued morphing. She watched the fur slowly thin and vanish, leaving a muscleman behind, complete with elaborate tattoos all over his chest and arms. His head was the last to turn human, and it took her breath away.
“Oh. My. God,” she whispered. “You're gorgeous.”
Lion stood before her like a Greek god. He wasn't as tall as Nick, but at least six foot five. Long, dark hair fell like a lion's mane past his shoulders, and a neatly trimmed beard covered his face. Fierce dark eyes glared down at her.
And he was just as naked as her.
“Are you a shifter?” Dorothy asked. “Or a god?”
Lion looked surprised, and then his eyes started traveling down her body. Apparently, he liked what he saw. His penis began to rise, which took her breath away. Yeah, he was blessed down there, too.
Shaking away inappropriate thoughts, she remembered her anger.
“Why did you dishonor yourself and your warriors by attacking us under a flag of truce?”
His eyes widened, and fury returned to his brutally handsome face.
“You invaded my territory!” he cried. “I did not grant you permission to march an army into my kingdom.”
“What the hell are you talking about? You said to meet you at Deathknight Castle. We camped below the castle.”
“You should've stopped at the border and awaited permission to enter.”
Dorothy opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. It was a stupid reason to go to war.
“Let us start over, Lion,” she said, forcing her voice to be calm and reasonable. “We have a common enemy that threatens us both.”
“No, the Wickeds threaten you. Not me.”
“Both Good Witches have pledged their magic and armies to my cause,” she said. “If we fail, then you will stand alone against all of power of the Wickeds.”
He scowled at her. “And we're at this juncture because you returned.”
She shrugged. “Guilty as charged. Order your warriors to stand down and vacate my camp. We'll not pursue.”
“Why should I?” Lion said, looking rather smug. “We are winning, and you are still pointing those puny little things at me. I assume they are some sort of weapon.”
“Are you really winning?” she said. “I beg to disagree.” Dorothy lowered the pistols, but kept them in hand. “I'd rather be you friend and ally, Lion. Together, we can defeat Glinda and the Wickeds.”
“I am not aware of any alliance between Glinda and either of the Wickeds.”
“Neither am I, but they have common cause,” Dorothy said. “They will coordinate their efforts, if nothing else.”
He looked uncertain for a moment. Locasta joined him, shooting a dirty look toward Dorothy. He turned, and they huddled in whispered conversation. Both cast frequent looks at her. The continual sounds of deadly battle wound her nerves up to the max.
“Decide, Lion!” Dorothy demanded. “Are we friends? Or enemies?” She looked him up and down again. “I, for one, would much rather be friends.”
“Oh?”
She smiled with a wag of her brows, enjoying his reaction.
“Perhaps we can strike a mutually beneficial deal, my friend,” Dorothy said, voice dropping an octave. She held his eyes for a long moment. “I think we'd both enjoy having friendlier, um, relations.”
Chapter 6
Dorothy stood in the warmth of an early morning sun, nude and with her arms held out to either side. She still hadn't gotten used to Ozian royal bathes. Nubile young handmaidens swirled around her, some carrying in heated water, while others rubbed cleansing oils into her skin. They left nothing untouched.
Normally, she pretended it was handsome young men bathing her so…intimately. The whole affair aroused her libido terribly, and she was starting to enjoy them way too much. Which concerned her in another way. But that morning, all she could think about was Lion in his human form and performing that erotic service for her.
And his aphrodisiac pheromones.
Thankfully, Nick spent the rest of the night preparing her for her face-to-face with the lion-shifter. Yeah, he banged her seven ways to Sunday. He didn't stop until it was time for her bath, and her belly still quivered from all of the orgasms he'd forced.
For a moment, her thoughts returned to those amazing hours in bed, Nick over her, thrusting like mad. He had no refractory period. The big bastard was a one-man gangbang. And he took her every way imaginable, and a few she'd never imagined. Mostly, though, she remembered the ceaseless thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…
Nick is a machine, she thought, and giggled. Nick also thought her Silver Stilettos would help her, but he couldn't guarantee it. If I'm not sated enough to handle Lion's pheromones now, then I'm toast and might as well kneel before my lion master.
Every so often, she cast a glance to her right. Her enchanted Silver Stilettos rested atop a three-legged stool. Bathing was the only time she removed the shoes while outside of the palace and its powerful protective wards. She felt acutely vulnerable during her daily baths.
After the maidens rinsed her off, they toweled her dry with ten of the softest, thickest towels she'd ever enjoyed. Imperial towels were one luxury she definitely thought superior to anything back in Kansas. Then they sa
t her down and washed, dried, and styled her hair. The maidens always tried to give her some wild, elaborate hairstyle, but Dorothy wouldn't have it. She wanted a simple part down the middle, so they compromised with a part on the right side; otherwise, loose pigtails tied off with blue ribbon, cascading across her shoulders and down her back.
“Gorgeous,” Nick said, stepping into the partitioned section behind her pavilion. “As always.”
“Somehow you always manage to come for me early enough to catch me naked,” Dorothy said, wagging her brows. “Such a naughty tin statesman.”
He chuckled. “Yes, but how many times must I tell you? I'm not made of tin anymore.” He knocked on his massive chest. His steel body was sheathed in fine brown leather riding clothes, with only his hands and head visibly made of steel. “Nothing but hardened steel.”
Still flustered from her bath, Dorothy thought of another kind of “hardened steel” she loved about him. But they didn't have time for that. Indeed, she knew they were running a little late. So taking a deep, calming breath, she stood up and strode over to her shoes. With one hand on Nick's chest for balance, she quickly pulled on her footwear and most powerful talisman.
Her handmaidens immediately began dressing her, pushing Nick out of the way. For her first official meeting with Lion, Dorothy decided in a ploy that her staff and handmaidens didn't like. She demanded a blue and white gingham skirt, down to mid-thigh, and white midriff top. She also put on brown leather fingerless gloves, and her shoulder holsters with two pistols. Her katana rested across her back.
“Gingham to remind Lion of the good old days,” Dorothy said when Nick looked upon her with disapproval. “The weapons to remind him that I am a warrior empress, not to be taken lightly.”
“Lion's an arrogant shifter,” Nick said. “He takes everyone lightly. Marshal Picho is waiting.”
Dorothy led the way out of her pavilion. The commander of the Imperial Grand Army joined them, as they made for the castle atop the hill. Both Nick and Picho bristled with weapons, and the Marshal wore a steel cuirass as well. Dorothy wore no armor, walking slightly ahead with Nick to her right rear and Picho to the left.
They followed the ancient, mostly washed away road up to the castle's gatehouse. Everywhere she looked, Dorothy saw shifters arrayed and watching her suspiciously. Most chose to stand in their half-human forms, though a few watched her pass as bears, lions, wolves, and other predators.
The gatehouse proved to be in pristine condition.
“They are rebuilding Deathknight Castle,” Picho said under his breath. “Very aggressive on their part, Your Highness.”
“Part of any treaty should be they have to dismantle this castle,” Nick said.
The gatehouse was massive. A raised portcullis gave entry to a long, covered corridor high and wide enough to admit three knights riding abreast. Nick pointed out the “murder holes” above and to either side. Another raised portcullis awaited them at the other end. A wolf-headed warrior awaited them.
He led them to an even more massive structure. The main keep's entrance was atop a rickety stairs and platform. Nick's forbidding weight made it creak and groan so much, Dorothy feared they'd go crashing down.
Locasta waited at the keep's entrance.
“Welcome to Deathknight Castle, Dorothy.”
“Address her correctly,” Nick demanded. “Either 'Your Highness' or 'Empress Dorothy.'“
“She's not my empress,” the witch sneered.
Both Nick and Picho reached for their hilts. The witch dropped back into a defensive stance, both hands bursting into flames. Dorothy held her hands up.
“Cease and desist!” she commanded. “You three shut up. It's not about you.” She gave Locasta a less than friendly look. “Take us to Warlord Lion.”
“After you give me your shoes,” Locasta said, eyes covetous dropping to Dorothy's feet.
“Nice try, but no,” she replied.
“I cannot take you before my king while you possess such a powerful talisman.”
“I've already met with him once, on the battlefield, while wearing them,” Dorothy said, voice taking an aggressive edge. Her baby blues narrowed, holding the witch's gaze. “You cannot hurt me while I wear them, but I can kill you. So either lead the way, or get out of the way.”
“Let them pass, Locasta,” Lion's called.
Dorothy smiled at the witch, stepped around her, and entered the keep. A small entry foyer greeted her, with no decorations whatsoever. Their renovations hadn't reached there yet. Double doors stood open to her right, while the entrance to a dark, narrow staircase waited. She chose the open doors.
“Welcome to Deathknight Castle, Dorothy, Empress of Oz,” Lion said.
The chamber took up half that level of the keep, long and narrow. The only light came through the thin windows high up on the wall. Tattered, faded battle banners hung from the rafters. Lion and one of his generals waited across the room, both in their animal forms.
The young empress stopped and admired the tawny lion and gray wolf. After a moment, Lion shifted into his full human form as his personal witch approached. Locasta tapped the naked king on the head with her wand, causing a circle of light to drop down around him, leaving him fully clothed as it passed. Lion then stood before Dorothy in silken finery.
“Are you trying to impress me or something?” Dorothy asked, giving him a sultry look. “It's working.”
He laughed, waving a dismissive hand. “No. I'm just more comfortable in my natural lion form.”
Dorothy held her hand up to stop Nick and Marshal Picho, while she continued toward Lion. Warlord Lion moved toward her with feline grace and power, taking her breath away. Their eyes met and locked. That gaze sizzled, turning the young woman's insides all hot and fluttery.
Seen in daylight, she realized his skin was tanned bronze, and his big lion's mane was the same dark, tawny brown as it was in lion form. But what really amazed her was his perfect body: broad, thick shoulders and arms, and perfect six-pack abs. As her granddaughter, Megan, would say, the man was cut.
“You are an impressive lion, my lord,” Dorothy said. “But a very impressive man.”
“And I see that you've grown up quite nicely, Dorothy,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “Quite nicely, indeed.”
Instead of meeting halfway and either shaking hands or embracing, each turned slightly to the right and began a slow circle. Dorothy really liked the way he moved. Such power. So graceful. And then his scent slammed into her. It made her insides hot and mushy, and her skin tingled. A few very inappropriate thoughts sprang into her head, but she easily banished them.
I'll be damned, Nick was right. Sexual satisfactions helps fight off his pheromones.
Dorothy still wanted Lion so badly she ached. It was kind of embarrassing how much she lusted after the sexy shifter. He used to be a very good platonic friend! Then she noticed his eyes raking her body, and they kept returning to her boobs and her… Lips. Did he want a taste? Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and suddenly she wanted a taste.
When Nick broke their shared trance by clearing his throat rather aggressively, they stopped and faced each other. Lion extended his hand in greeting, and she took it. But then Dorothy pressed up close and offered a hug. He didn't hesitate, and their hug was fierce.
“You've always had a certain animal magnetism,” she whispered into his ear. “But it takes my breath away now, Lion.”
Their eyes locked again, and for a second Dorothy thought he would kiss her.
“Shall we?” Lion asked.
He indicated a table set up at the other end of the chamber. It wasn't the proposition she'd hoped for a moment before, but was the reason they were meeting. Dorothy paused to pull herself together, and then nodded. They walked side-by-side, with their people following behind. Dorothy kept her eyes straight ahead, but noticed him not-so-covertly admiring her form. That seemed to please her more than it should.
“I see you have a mock-up of the entire E
mpire,” Dorothy said. She had a similar setup back in the palace, in her war room. Once again, she was taken by the map of the Empire's resemblance to the United States of America. Pretty much the same size and shape, with Emerald City almost dead center, or basically where Kansas should be. And really, the mountains, forests, and plains weren't all that different.
Small tin soldiers and horses represented the various arms assembling. The Ozian Grand Army was represented by green painted soldiers and horses, while Gillikin Country's troops were purple, Quadling Country's were red, Winkie Country's were yellow, and Munchkin Country's were blue. Lion's army was represented by silvery animals.
Glinda's army looked larger than Dorothy's generals claimed, as did Lion's army.
“The Empire looks huge like this,” she said.
“It's a six month march from the far border of Winkie Country to the far border of Munchkin Country,” Marshal Picho said. “On good roads and perfection conditions.”
She knew the Grand Army averaged twenty miles a day, depending on terrain. She couldn't do the math without a calculator, but remembered from her school days that the US was about twenty-nine hundred miles across. So, three thousand miles give or take. If Oz was really the same size, then she ruled over a lot of territory.
“My army can do it in half the time,” Lion said.
“So can ours,” Marshal Picho said, leaning over the table. “But I was giving her an average, for peacetime marches.”
“Gentlemen,” Dorothy said. “Please stop before you start yanking out your penises to compare.”
Locasta laughed. Dorothy, though, rattled herself a bit by unwelcome thoughts of Lion's cock. How big? What would it feel like inside her? Did it taste as good as Lion smelled?
Lion gave her a brief nod, and directed her back to the mock-up. She took a deep, steadying breath and struggled to focus.
“Each piece represents one thousand soldiers, so you can see the armies of the Wickeds outnumber that of the Good Witches. Add Glinda's army, and then they match up well with your pledged armies.” He held her eyes. “In that scenario, you lose.”
Wrath of a Wonderfully Wicked Witch (Return to Oz With a Vengeance Book 2) Page 4