Dragon Actually
Page 87She really should hate him, except he looked so regal in his full battle-dragon armor worn to impress the old bitch dragon. The metal breastplate, used to protect not only a dragon’s chest but his vulnerable underbelly during battle, fairly glowed with the fire coming from the pit. Bercelak’s was an intricate design of past battles. The detail of the work showed his rank. Then there were the scars covering a good portion of his body. . . .
Gods! What had he done to her? When did she become one of those lovesick females? How did she allow this to happen?
“Mistress, I ask you again . . . will you help us?”
“I can’t change her mother’s spell, Bercelak. The queen either has to die or your lady love will have to reverse it on her own.”
“And how do I do that?” Rhiannon sighed dramatically.
“Try this.” The old witch lobbed a book at her. Written by dragons, the book was enormous and with Bercelak’s tail holding her in place, she could only cringe as it neared her head. But one black claw reached out and snatched the book from the air.
“Ahh. Thank you, mistress.”
“Keep it. Soon I’ll need none of this any longer.” The dragon slowly turned and headed back deeper into her lair, but over her shoulder she said, “You do know that you two are well matched, don’t you? You, Princess, allow him to be kind rather than just a killer. And Bercelak allows you the ability to be a right bitch whenever you want.
“Aye,” she continued, her voice echoing in the cavern as she disappeared into the darkness. “You two are perfect together. And one day . . . one day your children will change everything.”
Bercelak watched his sister and mother work with Rhiannon to find the spell that would break the queen’s hold.
When she literally roared in frustration, shaking the table they were all working on, he knew she badly needed a break.
“This is useless!”
“Come, Rhiannon.” He grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her toward the exit. “Mother? You’ll be all right?”
“Go, go.” His mother didn’t even look up as she shooed them away. Except for one other brother, his poor mother was the only scholar of the clan. Deciphering ancient text was the kind of thing she lived for. “I’ll be fine.”
Using that to his advantage, Bercelak dragged Rhiannon from the castle and toward the woods.
“Where are we going?”
“You are dangerously tense, my love. I fear for my family’s safety.”
She dug her heels into the soft ground and he turned to look at her. “What?”
“Don’t say that again.”
“Not that. Never call me your ‘love’ again. None of that.”
“You’re unbelievable, Princess.” He headed back off, yanking her along behind him. “You argue the most insane things.”
“I think not. I need none of those insipid endearments from you.”
“Oh, you’d prefer them from another?”
“There is no other.”
He stopped again and looked at her. “And it will stay that way, Princess. There will only be me. There will only be you.”
Shaking her head, “I don’t understand you, Bercelak. Truth told, you could have anyone. Low-born or royal. Do you truly wish to be consort to a queen so badly?”
“I don’t want ‘anyone,’Rhiannon. I only want you. Since I saw you that first time I’ve only wanted you. That has never changed. That never will change. Whether you take your mother’s throne or leave it to one of your siblings, it won’t change how I feel about you . . . and I think you know that. I think you fear it.”
She pulled her arm out of his grasp and took several steps away. “I may never be dragon again. I may be trapped in this weak human body forever. I may never be queen. I may never rule. And one day you may have to choose between my mother and me. One day she’ll make you choose.”
He grabbed hold of her hand again, bringing it to his mouth so he could kiss her knuckles.
“My heart belongs to you, Rhiannon. It will always belong to you.”
Frowning, she looked away, then down at the ground.
He knew she’d reject him again. That fear of her feelings would make her run, but he was willing to wait for her. He had no choice. No other female would ever do.
Then, to his shock, she slowly reached her free hand out for him while she kept her eyes on the ground. He grasped it and gave a small tug. She shuddered once, then she was against him. Her arms wrapped tight around his waist, her head on his chest.
He closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer to the dragon gods who protected him in battle and life.
Big hands smoothed up and down her back. He didn’t speak. He made no triumphant proclamations. He merely held her tight and let her be part of him.
She let his strength flow through her. He gave it to her gladly, with no regrets and without asking for anything in return.
When the silence became too much for her, she said, “Where were you taking me?”