Primal Ice: Paranormal Fantasy (Ice Dragons Book 3)

by Ann Gimpel

  Oberon cocked his head to one side. “Never thank a Sidhe. We have ways of holding your feet to the fire to repay us.”

  Konstantin shrugged. “The deed is done. I am yours should you have need of me.”

  Amid Titania’s rippling, silvery laughter, the royal couple took their leave, vanishing in a cloud of golden fairy dust. Katya brushed it off her shoulders and shook it out of her hair.

  She snorted. “I need to figure out how to make grand exits and entrances like that.”

  Ylon tapped Kon’s shoulder. “We, too, are leaving. Please feel free to visit us on our borderworld.”

  Yle let his gaze fall on Katya. “I am particularly interested in you visiting, Madame Seer. We could learn from one another.”

  “Thank you so much,” Katya said. “I shall take you up on your offer.” A glance over one shoulder told her Arawn’s gateway was shut. The Celts were gone. So much for tapping into Bran’s or Ceridwen’s knowledge of prophecies. But then, she hadn’t expected much on that front.

  With a noise like a brisk wind in trees that didn’t grow in their underground world, the dinosaurs trooped through a portal that Ylon first created and then held open with his magic. He jumped through before it winked out, leaving residual power pulsing around where it had been.

  All the serpents were gone but Surek. He and Y Ddraigh Goch had their heads together. While she watched, the dragon god wrapped his arms around Surek’s thick neck and kissed his scaled forehead. Power bubbled around them, bright with dragon colors and scented with the baked clay smell of dragon magic.

  When it cleared, they were gone.

  Konstantin blew out a tired breath. “They have gone to round up the remaining serpents on the headlands. And any dragons who may have escaped our net.”

  “What will happen to them? The dragons, I mean?” Johan asked.

  “Y Draigh Goch will destroy them,” Kon answered. “And Surek will kill any serpents who are not fully cooperative with returning to their borderworld.”

  “Will they need help?” Erin sounded worried.

  “If they do, they know where to find us,” Konstantin said.

  Katya glanced at the lake. “Somehow, I’d expected the water to still be red and black and filled with crud,” she said.

  “The land is cleansing it.” Kon smiled softly. “She is pleased to have such tasks.”

  Questions rolled through Katya’s mind. Where would they go? Would they still live here? Even if they wished to leave, would Kon’s link to the land bind them to Earth? Speaking of Earth, how about her gradual decline at the hands of mankind? Would Poseidon’s intervention be enough to reverse things?

  Or was worrying about such things even her job?

  She shook her head.

  “Are you all right?” Johan wrapped an arm around her.

  “Yes. My thoughts were getting ahead of themselves.”

  “We should enjoy our victory,” Konstantin said. “For it is, indeed, a victory. And one I didn’t anticipate.”

  Johan laughed. “My dragon is incorrigible.”

  “They all are,” Katya said. “What does that beast of yours want now?”

  He turned her until she faced him and placed his hands on her shoulders. “What do you think? He wishes us to complete our mating ritual. We never did the dragon portion of it.”

  “Yes!” Katya’s bondmate shrieked so loud she was certain everyone heard her.

  Erin and Konstantin burst out laughing. “The dragons have spoken,” Konstantin said when he could talk.

  Erin slid a hand beneath his arm. “Shall we go inside and offer them a spot of privacy?”

  “Good idea, my love.” He walked slowly by her side. Before they’d gotten too far away, he twisted and called, “We’ll try to have something put together for you to eat. Mating is hungry business.”

  Katya bugled her thanks. Her dragon was so eager, she was already half-formed. Johan’s green beast breathed clouds of steam to hurry her along. She felt torn. It seemed wrong to jump back into a life that had nearly been snatched away from them, but it seemed right too.

  The best thing they could do for dragonkind was to go on living, and living as fully as they could. Steam puffed from her until she and Johan were swathed in puffy, white clouds of it.

  “I love you,” she said in dragonspeak.

  “I love you too. My heart, my life,” he replied and leapt skyward.

  She followed him. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait. Heat and need and love roared through her in an irresistible mélange. When her beast made a bid for freedom, she gave it willingly. Her bondmate had been patient. She deserved all the joy she could harvest from this moment.

  Johan’s dragon bugled. She bugled back. They dipped and swooped and swerved toward and away from one another until the magical moment when the weight of Johan’s dragon settled across her back. He gripped her shoulders with his talons and closed his jaws over her neck.

  His cock slid into her body in a single powerful thrust. Joined with the man she loved, she let the air currents take her as they completed the mating ritual. Beyond the exquisite sensuality of making love as a dragon, something she’d never done before, she felt whole in a way she hadn’t believed possible.

  Tomorrow didn’t matter. Only today. Only now.

  All the rest would fall into place. She waited for her beast to offer up an I-told-you-so, but the dragon was lost in pleasure. Heat crested, retreated, and crested once more. They settled to the ground still joined. Johan wrapped his wings around them and laid his snout across her shoulder, breathing steam and love.

  She leaned her head against his, basking in their shared delight while his cock deflated enough to untangle their bodies. “We will do that every day,” her beast announced.

  Johan bugled laughter and began to shift.

  Katya did the same. Before her fingers were quite done forming, she threw herself into Johan’s arms and held on tight. He threaded his arms around her and buried his face in her tangled hair. “No matter what happens next,” he said, “we are bonded.”

  “Forever,” she murmured.

  “I like the sound of that, Liebchen.”

  “Do you want to go inside?” she asked.

  “Not yet.” He smoothed curls out of her face. “What we just shared, it felt magical to me. Sacred. I want to savor it before we fall back into the real world.”

  She tightened her hold on him. “It was magical, because we are, but savor it we shall.”

  They were still holding one another when Kon and Erin came looking for them.

  Dragon Time

  Greetings, readers! It’s Konstantin’s dragon again. I promised you I’d stop in at the end of the book, and here we are. Once everyone had left, I didn’t see why Erin’s dragon and I couldn’t have joined Katya and Johan in the mating flight, but Konstantin said we’d already done that.

  As if once was all I was going to get. I started to give him hell, but he shut me up by telling me that while it had been acceptable for him and Erin to have a public mating dance, Katya and Johan deserved privacy. I understood, sort of. Konstantin is the dragon prince, and different rules apply.

  I’m convinced one of the reasons we won the field today was because I insisted on completing the mating ritual. Having an unmated dragon lord tempts fate. And not in good ways. Not that we had to deal with any of the amoral, immortal hussies like succubae today, but we could have. The mating bond is the best protection there is against wraiths that exert control starting with your manhood.

  I’m getting sidetracked. We had plenty of problems without wraiths or succubae. We won, but we cannot rest on our laurels. No. We must dissect how we ended up in a predicament where we fought our own kind. It’s almost unheard of for dragons to challenge other dragons, and we must never forget how and why such a dreadful outcome came to be.

  I was shocked by what had become of the First Dragon. I remember him from before our god supposedly knocked him aside. He was always arrogant, full of h
imself, but the dragon I remember was sane. The one who showed up today had given up all pretense of sanity. He was sunk so deep into madness, it hurt my dragon’s heart to breathe the same air.

  He was a disgrace to dragonkind. I tried to reach the dragon part of things—and was soundly rebuffed. It was as if he’d renounced being a dragon. Wonder what the hell he thought he was?

  I understand Y Ddraigh Goch well. At least I thought I did. Knowing he’d hedged about what became of the First Dragon shook my confidence in him a little bit. If the First Dragon had accepted he’d done wrong, our liege would have allowed him to return and take his rightful place by his side. Maybe. Explaining to the rest of us that the First Dragon wasn’t exactly dead would have required a deft hand.

  But Y Ddraigh Goch could have pulled it off. We all love him. Love forgives a whole lot.

  Beyond what is now looking like a lie of omission, I’d always assumed exile would allow plenty of time to think, to revisit just how and why you ended up all by yourself—an unnatural situation for dragons. Rather than developing a fuller understanding of his sins, it appears the First Dragon nurtured bitterness.

  A grudge that grew over time, eating away at what remained of his mind.

  As I’ve said, none of us realized he was still alive. Y Ddraigh Goch didn’t come out and say he’d done away with the First Dragon, but he inferred it. I’ve been trying to reconstruct precisely what he said, but I can’t. Regardless, all of us were convinced the First Dragon was dead.

  Until a little while ago when he sashayed through a portal and it turned out all the grief we’d gone through was because he ensorcelled the serpents—and other dragons—to be partners in his shared madness.

  I admit, it’s a relief about the other dragons. I’d have been horribly disappointed in my kinsmen if they’d been seduced by sea-serpents. But it’s not much better that they didn’t recognize how far removed from reality the First Dragon was.

  Maybe he’d looked better than he did before he showed up here today. Yes. That must have been it. I’m not going to name them—doing so would remind me of who they once were—but some of the dragons who defected used to be my friends.

  Fallout from the First Dragon’s treachery will be with us for many a long year. Perhaps forever.

  Katya and Johan have completed the mating ritual. I’m happy for them. And ever so grateful for my own mate. We’ll rest and regroup, but our troubles are far from over. Worlds are still dying, and there may be someone much more powerful than the First Dragon pulling strings behind the scenes.

  For all I know he—or she—could have been the force behind the First Dragon’s rebellion. I know how those things go. Find a weak link and exploit it to do your bidding. When things fall apart—as they so often do—you’ve remained invisible. Your front man took the fall for you, and your true identity stays hidden.

  And now, I’m rambling. Many thanks for sharing our journey. I will do my best to take care of my bondmate, and Erin too. Our god would never acknowledge this, but he could use some nurturing. Finally consigning the First Dragon to the flames cost him. I saw it in his face and in the set of every single scale.

  He was devastated, but tougher too. No more shying away from the inevitable. No more allowing compassion to get in the way of necessity. None of us are exempt from life lessons. Speaking of Y Ddraigh Goch, I’m going to go pester Konstantin about heading to the surface to look in on him. We can be subtle about it. So stealthy, he won’t even know we’re there.

  Unless he needs us, and then our presence will be a very good thing.

  I shall bid you farewell. You never know, we may meet again. If you want more Ice Dragon books, drop the author a line. She loves to hear from someone other than her characters. We nag the poor woman half to death.

  It’s so hard to stop talking. May wind race beneath your wings and dragon steam surround you. Now and always.

  You’ve reached the end of Primal Ice, and the end of the Ice Dragon Trilogy. I do hope you’ve enjoyed these books. Please leave a review for Primal Ice. Doesn’t have to be fancy. A sentence or two will do it. Reviews help other readers discover books you’ve loved.

  The end of this book makes me think of an old Buffy Sainte-Marie song, “Sometimes When I Get To Thinking About You”

  Let me leave you with the last three verses:

  …Think of the years before we were a pair,

  Years lived apart we spent learning to farm.

  Sowing, growing and learning to care

  For ourselves, and preparing for each other’s arms.

  Love is a flower, blooms when we’re too young;

  Pluck it, it’s gone, tended it grows.

  We’ve been tending since the first sprout was sprung -

  To the most patient farmer, the best harvest goes.

  Sometimes I recall what others have said:

  Love is for lovers in love and full grown,

  Life’s for the living and death’s for the dead,

  And the depth of a heart is a fathom unknown.

  If you adore dragon books, keep reading for a sample from my Dragon Lore series. Five unforgettable books that will plop you into the heart of the Scottish Highlands.

  About the Author

  Ann Gimpel is a USA Today bestselling author. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in many webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. Once upon a time, she nurtured clients. Now she nurtures dark, gritty fantasy stories that push hard against reality. When she’s not writing, she’s in the backcountry getting down and dirty with her camera. She’s published over 75 books to date, with several more planned for 2019 and beyond. A husband, grown children, grandchildren, and wolf hybrids round out her family.

  Keep up with her at www.anngimpel.com or http://anngimpel.blogspot.com

  If you enjoyed what you read, get in line for special offers and pre-release special reads. Newsletter Signup!

  Book Description: Highland Secrets

  Furious and weary, Angus Shea wants out, but he can’t stop the magic powering his visions. The Celts kidnapped him when he wasn’t much more than a boy. He’s sick of them and their endless assignments, but they wiped his memories, and he has no idea where he came from.

  Arianrhod prefers to work alone and guards her privacy for the best of reasons. She’s not exactly a virgin, and she’d be laughed out of the Pantheon if the truth surfaced. Despite the complications of leading a double life, she’s never found a lover who tempted her to walk away from the Celtic gods.

  Dragon shifters are disappearing from the Scottish Highlands. The Celtic Council sends Angus and Arianrhod to Fire Mountain, the dragons’ home world. Attraction ignites, so urgent Arianrhod’s carefully balanced life teeters on the brink of discovery.

  Can they risk everything?

  Will they?

  If they do, can they live with the consequences?

  Highland Secrets, Chapter One

  Angus Shea stroked beneath icy waters off the northern tip of Ireland, blending his energy with a pod of Selkies. The sea creatures cut through choppy waves in front, behind, and above him. He’d rather dive and play in the deeps with them—and if it were any other day, he would have—but he needed to keep an eye on the skies, so he edged toward the surface, pushing his head free.

  Celene, a coal black Selkie he’d done more than swim with, drew close enough her lush pelt stroked his skin. He draped an arm around her, and she nuzzled his neck with her snout.

  “Where have you been?” She spoke deep into his mind. Accommodating vocal chords were part of her human form, not her seal, and he’d never learned the Selkies’ lyrical language.

  “I spent a little time at my home in Scotland, but mostly I’ve ranged far from the Irish Sea.”

  “That doesn’t tell me anything.” She nipped playfully at his shoulder with her squared-off teeth.
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  “Prying ears are everywhere.” He leaned into her warmth, enjoying a respite from the cold water.

  “We could go where no one would hear.”

  He was tempted, so tempted he toyed with saying yes and taking a break from watching for the dragon he expected. Dragons interpreted time in their own way, and the damned thing might not show up today or tomorrow or even this week. If it showed at all.

  How much could he tell the Selkie?

  An answer crowded on the heels of his question.

  Nothing.

  Angus shuttered his mind, so the creature swimming by his side couldn’t read it. Much as he yearned to talk with someone, anyone, about the impossibilities the gods tasked him with, prudence won out. Not that this assignment was worse than any of the others, but he’d finally figured out they’d never end.

  I could say no. Tell them I’m done.

  He cut off the bitter laugh that wanted out. Whoever had the balls to refuse the Celts risked swift and certain punishment. He could hear Gwydion, master enchanter, or Ceridwen, goddess of the world, laughing their heads off—before they cut out his tongue or killed him on the spot.

  “You don’t have to say a word.” Celene went on, almost as if she’d peeked into his thoughts before he took care to protect them. Selkie laughter buffeted him, spraying him with a warm, rich melody mixed with salty water. “I’m curious, but I miss your body.”

  He missed hers too. She’d been his only break from solitude for more years than he wanted to admit. He cast another glance skyward. Though he tried to be subtle, he heard a smug murmur near his ear and knew he hadn’t fooled the Selkie.

  “You wait for an Ancient One.” The tenor of her mind speech shifted as she shielded it from anyone who might be close. Without stopping for him to corroborate, she forged ahead. “We can take up the banner and watch for you. My kin will let us know.”