by Mary Auclair
Touch of Ice
Dawn of Dragons Book One
Mary Auclair
Eclipse Press
©2018 by Eclipse Press and Mary Auclair
All rights reserved.
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Mary Auclair
Touch of Ice
EBook ISBN 978-1-948140-03-4
Print ISBN: 978-1-948140-04-1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Contents
What’s Inside
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
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“You’re going to meet her in the throne room?” Dalgo lifted his arms up in exasperation. “How is that going to be a good thing again? Oh, yes, by making her uncomfortable. Is that why Rhyl is there, too? To make sure she’s scared to death. I see. This is going to start well, then. Have her travel all night, then greet her with the fright of her life.”
“I have no interest in making her comfortable,” Aldric answered through clenched teeth. “I only have an interest in stating the obvious.”
“Even better.” Dalgo scowled at Rhyl, who puffed with impatience, steam rising up his nostrils in small bursts. “The last thing you need is to have her fear you.”
“You’re wrong. The last thing I need is to have her disobey me.”
Dalgo turned and walked away from the throne, his footsteps fast and angry in the vaulted ceiling room. Aldric watched him walk, not moving from his position on the throne. He knew his friend disagreed with his choice. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure why he’d chosen to meet Endora in the throne room, with Rhyl lying behind him. He knew what that would project. It would make him appear cold and intimidating, someone without emotion or warmth. It was the exact opposite of what Dalgo had had in mind for him. His friend had this ridiculous idea that Endora might decide to stay with him past the contract. That Aldric might find happiness in the company of the human woman.
Aldric stayed silent, absently patting the side of Rhyl’s muzzle.
Just when Dalgo turned back with an expression on his face that meant he was going to speak some more, the door at the far end of the throne room opened.
Then she walked in.
Endora’s small form moved with hurried steps, seemingly alone in the immense room. Her heels beat a steady staccato and she made a beeline in his direction, not deviating from her target.
Aldric stayed perfectly still as Endora approached. His heart suddenly beat faster, regardless of the years of harsh discipline that usually rendered him immune to anything that might upset his control.
Endora was no longer the nubile nymph of ten years before, when he’d first spied her across the fields. Her full breasts moved with her every step, and her rounded hips undulated in an enticing way as she walked. She had the curves of a woman, with all the sensuality that entailed. He found his ancient attraction bite again with renewed intensity. She was even more irresistible now than she had been before.
As she neared, he was entranced by the perfect oval of her face, by the luscious weight of the almost black curls she’d tied against her nape with a ribbon. His hand clenched on Rhyl’s scales at the idea of running his fingers through that wild forest, of seeing her hair cover her nude shoulders down to her waist.
Endora stopped at the base of the steps, her already small stature dwarfed further by the height of the throne.
“Why wasn’t I allowed to go back home?” Her voice faded to a hushed stillness. Her large, dark velvet eyes were wide and full of fear, but she kept her head high and held his stare like one accustomed to power, even though it was obvious she wasn’t.
Her arms were folded across her breasts and her dark eyes shot lightning bolts. Her full lips were half open, soft and inviting. Aldric was stricken by her face, so much so that he didn’t even realize she was expecting an answer.
Or that she had dared speak to him in that tone.
“I need to get back to my village as soon as possible.”
This time, Aldric was pulled from his paralyzing fascination. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned the meeting. He’d planned the introduction carefully, choosing to display authority and power, to make his position clear. This was the only way he could ensure her safety. She’d barely stepped into his life and already she was defying him.
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Chapter 1
Endora paused at the doorstep to her home, suddenly reluctant to go inside. She hugged the coin pouch to her chest, fighting the paralyzing fear that prevented her from opening the door. Her breath came in tiny puffs of whi
te condensation in the frigid mid-January air.
The pouch, cold and small in her hand, seemed to weigh a ton.
The decision to sell her last sow hadn’t been an easy one, but she had no choice. They would just have to make do with the chickens for the rest of the winter.
Holding on to the last few moments before entering the house, Endora braced her forehead against the wood of the door, closing her eyes against the sudden surge of tears. Not a sound filtered through. Everything inside was so damned silent. There used to be squeals of joy and laughter, but now, quiet had made its home in her house. And it wasn’t just any kind of silence. No, this one had a sad quality to it. Like it was waiting for something to happen.
Stop it. Everything will be fine.
Endora stiffened her resolve, knocked the crust of ice from the hem of her dress and stepped inside the cozy kitchen. The air was thick with smoke from a healthy fire and the powerful aroma of food slowly cooking on the wood stove. At the back of the room was the seated figure of Dr. Leniard. His back was turned to her, but Endora could see him working on the small figure of the child lying in the bed.
The noise attracted Henriette’s attention, and she got up to walk toward Endora. Her frail silhouette was shrouded in the moving shadows from the fire, and she looked older than her seventy odd years. She looked defeated and tired, used by life.
Tallie’s sickness had taken a toll on her. It had taken a toll on all of them.
“You can sleep now, my dear. I’m going to have a word with your mother.” Dr. Leniard turned to face Endora, and her guts twisted in angry knots at his expression. Pity. Pity and something else were painted on the old man’s features. Something that made her want to punch the wrinkled, kind face until blood trickled down his nose. Yes, she knew what it was. It was contempt. Contempt for her ignorance and her denial of the obvious. Contempt for her refusal to accept the facts for what they were.
Her fingers clutched the coin purse so hard they hurt.
Endora stayed where she was as if her feet were clad in stone, as Dr. Leniard walked up to the table then sat down. He was silent as Henriette poured him a searing hot cup of tea. Tea they couldn’t afford anymore. Tea that would run out before the cold season ended.
The coins clicked between her fingers, reminding her of everything that had gone wrong since the Fall. Since Tallie started getting sick, fading away week by week, her small body covered in bruises and her bones showing under too-pale skin.
“I’m afraid the news isn’t good, Dora.” Dr. Leniard took a noisy sip of tea, the sound obscene and loud in the smoky atmosphere. “Tallie has leukemia.”
“Leukemia?” The word didn’t hold any meaning for her, and Endora blinked through the confusion. “How do we cure it?”
“You don’t.” Dr. Leniard took another sip, wrapping his long, liver-spotted fingers around the white cup. It was the last cup from Henriette’s wedding, the one they brought out only for important visitors. “Leukemia cannot be cured. All we can do for Tallie now is to ease her way.”
Silence wrapped its icy fingers around Endora’s throat. She couldn’t breathe, and the room started spinning. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore. There was a loud thump before her teeth clenched together and pain shot through her knees. Voices rang out, filled with concern, but they were far away.
“It’s not true.” Her voice sounded wrong. Too small, too tired. “There’s a way.”
Hands grabbed her elbows and a chair found its way under her.
Leukemia can’t be cured. All we can do is ease her way.
Dr. Leniard’s words spun around in her mind, and Endora struggled against their meaning. Another cup appeared on the table in front of her, with yet another costly few tea leaves floating in the steaming water. Her stomach churned and she was afraid she would throw up, but since it was empty, all the organ did was cramp up with pain.
“I’m so sorry, my dear. After all you’ve been through…”
Dr. Leniard’s voice, laden with pity, lanced right through her, and Endora’s cheeks burned with rage.
“Liar.” The word came out no louder than a whisper, but Dr. Leniard recoiled as if Endora had thrown acid at him.
“Dora,” Henriette cut in, her voice full of reproach. “Tallie’s sickness isn’t Dr. Leniard’s fault. It’s nobody’s fault.”
Henriette’s tone softened the anger, clearing away Endora’s desire to throw her boiling cup at the doctor’s face. Her grandmother was right. Dr. Leniard wasn’t responsible for Tallie’s sickness.
All he was responsible for was taking the money she offered, time after time, on call after call; when Tallie came down with a fever that wouldn’t let go, when Tallie couldn’t keep food down for days on end. When Tallie’s body hurt so much she couldn’t walk anymore. Every time, his wrinkled old hands took the coins as he gave her a smile and soft words.
Their slow descent into poverty. The animals sold, one by one, to pay for his visits. Henriette’s wedding silver sold in the marketplace for half its value, to pay for his ineffective medicine. Dr. Leniard wasn’t responsible, but he had profited from it.
“I want you out of my house.” Endora lifted her chin and met the older man’s stare. “Get out.”
“Dora,” Henriette protested, but stopped dead when she caught Endora’s glare.
“Take your money, and leave.”
Endora snatched four of the ten coins from her purse and threw them across the table. They clinked and rolled merrily towards the doctor’s hands, then lay flat on the rough wood surface. Dr. Leniard stared at the coins, then successively at Endora and Henriette. The coins stayed on the table as he got to his feet.
“Keep your money. You’ll need it when Tallie’s pains return. I’ll come back whenever you need me.” His voice was sad, but there was comprehension there too. Like he’d known he would be the target of Endora’s anger and wasn’t holding it against her. It only made her angrier, and hot tears of rage burned her eyelids. She gripped the wooden table and stared at the coins as Dr. Leniard packed up his black leather bag, full of antiquated, useless tools. Tools from another age, when humans weren’t at the bottom of a very short food chain. When human life still held meaning.
“Thank you, Dr. Leniard.” Henriette walked the old man to the door before closing the house to the outside world again.
“Thank you?” Endora’s voice grew louder, uninhibited now that the doctor was gone. “For what? He did nothing for us. Nothing for Tallie, nothing for Grandpa. He’s as bad as the Delradons, feeding off our pain until we have nothing.”
“You can’t push everyone away,” Henriette countered in a rare display of temper. “Who will we call when the pain returns? There is no other human doctor in Helbon.”
“I know.”
Just like that, Endora’s anger faded and despair flooded her mind, leaving only a blank space behind. Henriette’s hand closed around hers, and Endora’s gaze latched on to her soft, knowing brown eyes. So strong. Henriette was so strong under her demure, sweet exterior. She lived through everything the world threw at her. Her only daughter’s death—Endora’s own mother—at the hands of a Draekon Lord. Her husband’s sickness and death. The hardship of working the farm alone with Endora. Henriette stood through it all, never complaining, never wavering. She was like a soft, wrinkled rock.
How Endora wished she could be like her.
“Maman?” Tallie called.
“Yes, I’m back.” Endora walked to the bed by the fire and sat down. “How do you feel, little weed?”
“Tired.” Tallie smiled, and despite the painful fragility of her face, she looked so strikingly beautiful that Endora felt tears sting her eyes. She fought them back, fast. Tallie didn’t need to see her pain. She needed her to be strong, and strong she would be. “I didn’t want to take Dr. Leniard’s drops, but Grand-maman made me.”
“I know.” Endora made a scrunched-up face that immediately made Tallie laugh. “Grand-maman always made me ta
ke Dr. Leniard’s medicine, too.”
Tallie’s laugh was short lived before her innocent features contorted into a mask of pain. Endora’s heart constricted to a pebble in her chest. She was so powerless against Tallie’s suffering, it made her want to scream and bite. It made her want to fight. Only there was no enemy, just this pain, and that insufferable, slow fading.
“Sleep now.” Endora wiped a stray strand of dark brown hair from Tallie’s brow. “Dinner will be ready in an hour. It’s your favorite, chicken with cabbage. And Grand-maman baked a cake, just for you.”
“Is it true you sold Sallie?” Tallie’s eyes were too wide, too dark. Too knowing. “You shouldn’t have. Now we won’t be able to sell piglets at the market.” She bit her lower lip, and tears filled her dark green eyes. “Am I going to die?”
Behind Endora, Henriette gasped, then stifled a sob. The blood drained from Endora’s face and all she could feel was a cold, all-encompassing void.
“No, little weed.” Endora heard her own voice, but didn’t recognize it. “I’d never let anything bad happen to you. Nobody matters like you, remember? You’re my tough little weed, and you’ll grow so big nobody can pull you out. You’ll be the queen of the garden.”
Tallie smiled, then reached for the heart-shaped pendant that hung around Endora’s neck on a fine gold chain. It was the only precious possession she hadn’t sold.