Dragonmark (4 page)

One by one, the archers released their shots.

When it was her turn, Edilyn lifted her arms with the mastered precision that came from years of practice. “You've got this,” she whispered in a tone so low, he was sure that he was the only one who heard it.

But as she pulled back the string for her release, the unthinkable happened.

Her bow snapped in half. The top part, along with the arrow, fell to the ground, while the bottom remained in her firm grip, tethered by the string.

“No!” Tears filled her eyes as she lost the last link with her father.

The immaculately dressed Morla tsked at her. “Shame, that. But it's not like anyone was ever going to choose you anyway. No one was even looking.” Then she made her shot.

Emanon took an involuntary step toward Edilyn before he even realized it. Yet he knew there was no comfort anyone could give her for what had just happened.

For what the rich bitch had just rudely and needlessly taken, without regard of consequence or compassion.

Morla had cracked Edilyn's precious bow to remove her from the competition because she knew she lacked the skills to compete. Because she'd been unwilling to spend the years it took to learn the skill. Nor did she care what she robbed from another. All that mattered was that
she
got what she wanted. To hell with the rest.

How could she?

Suddenly, a loud cry rang out. No sooner had it settled than the crowd around them erupted into a vicious attack party. Cloaks were thrown off soldiers who'd come in under the guise of celebrants.

Morla and the rest of the humans who'd been competing to be mates for the dragons scattered to hide.

So much for being warriors, or for showing any skill. That said it all about their loyal bravery.

The only one who stood her ground was Edilyn.

Seizing Morla's dropped bow, she slung her quiver over her back and began aiming for their enemies. Enemies who were quickly cutting a swathe through the Kattalakis dragons and the brenin's people.

Awed and impressed, Emanon watched Edilyn fearlessly protect the very assholes who'd been so cruel to her. Why? He couldn't imagine. Personally, he'd let them all burn. The only ones he'd ever protected were his brothers and sister.

No one else was worth a single drop of his blood.

That had always been his firm stance and his oath.

Until he saw the killing blow aimed at Edilyn's back. A blow she couldn't see at all, as she was focused on others. In that one quick, vital heartbeat he made a decision he'd sworn would never be his.

Lunging to save a human's life, he transformed into his true dragon form.

Edilyn froze as a huge, massive dragon circled her. With a giant, spiny head, he formed a wall of yellow-orange scales that rippled and shimmered in the daylight. Terrified, she thought he was attacking her at first.

Yet rather than attack, he let loose a stream of fire at those who'd snuck into her village. With a ferocious hiss, he whipped his tail and lowered his black-tinged wing toward her.
Climb aboard, my lady Edilyn.

Her jaw fell as she recognized the deep voice that no longer held the cadence of an ancient man. “Emanon?”

His yellow serpentine eyes gentled as he gave her a bashful grin.
Illarion, my lady. And it would be my honor to serve you.

The moment his true name was spoken through telepathy, their enemies ran for the gates in full retreat.

But Illarion wasn't having it. As soon as Edilyn was secured on his back, he ran them down and made sure they never threatened her people again.

Edilyn held tightly to his scales as she felt his muscles rippling beneath her legs and thighs. A saddle and reins appeared magically for her, along with a harness that secured her in a way that guaranteed nothing would separate her from her mount. It felt as if she were fused into place.

Fear and respect for the dragon's immense power mingled inside her as she watched him effortlessly reduce their enemies to ashes. She held her breath in awe, trembling and praying that he never turned that anger loose on her.

You have no need to fear me, Edilyn.

She wasn't so sure about that. And while she'd always scoffed at the stories of the Ancient Drakos's powers and dismissed them as fantasy, she now wondered how many of those tales were actually factual.

Dear heaven, he was exactly as they'd said. His powers greater than any dragon she'd seen or heard of.

Once he'd dispensed of their enemies with virtually no effort on his part, he returned to the archery field and allowed her to dismount from his back. The bodies of the wounded and killed surrounded them. The entire area was still in chaos as people sought to find their loved ones or to render aid.

Though she had often resented how they'd treated her over the years, Edilyn felt no joy at seeing her people like this. How could anyone take pleasure in another's pain? Seek harm when they didn't have to? She'd never understand cruelty for the sake of it.

What was wrong with people?

There in front of her, Illarion shifted from his dragon form into that of a man. Only this time, he wasn't old or hunched over.

He was glorious.

With a gasp, she looked up into a pair of silvery blue eyes that radiated intelligence and heat. Never had she seen eyes that color. And they were set in a face of utter male perfection. Firm, sculpted jaw, high cheeks, and an aquiline nose. Best of all were lips that neither mocked nor sneered at her. His long, dark auburn hair fell free and held a number of small braids laced with feathers.

“Were you injured in the fighting?” she asked.

Never by a human.

A shiver ran up her spine at the realization that his voice didn't come from his lips. Rather, he spoke to her through her thoughts. No wonder he'd kept himself completely covered before. He must have been disguising the fact that the old man wasn't really speaking, rather telegraphing his thoughts to them.

With a tenderness that belied the size and strength of him, he brushed the moisture from her cheeks where she'd cried over her broken bow. His gaze darkened with curiosity as he lingered his thumb over her lips.

“Wait!” The brenin rushed forward. “You've grabbed the wrong woman. She's not my daughter. Morla is beautiful and rich. She's the one you seek.”

Illarion cast an irritated glare toward the much smaller man as he dropped his hand from her face.
I didn't come here for a false princess with a withered heart and callous soul who knows the value of nothing, except her own overestimated self-worth.

Edilyn frowned at the disdain in his voice. “Then what
did
you seek?”

In a very dragonlike manner, he cocked his head to glance at his drakos brethren, then to the brenin.
Nothing. Truly. Every year I come for shits and giggles, expecting the same, and every year I've been turned away by fools who never fail to reaffirm my lowly opinion of humanity. It's always been a game to me to see how far I'd get.

He curled his lip at Morla.
The promise of a princess definitely didn't lure me here, for they are vain, worthless creatures who are only concerned with their own petty needs. I have no need of such a nuisance.

Then, Illarion turned back to Edilyn and the corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly.
Instead, I've found the rarest vision of all.
He met her gaze and the sincerity in that cool blue depth sent a chill over her.
I found a most beautiful queen who knows her own mind and isn't afraid to protect those surrounding her. One who sees what's around her and isn't blind to the feelings of others, or their value. For more than ten thousand years I have walked this earth, my lady. Never have I seen your equal, in heart or form. And if you will have me, repugnant and disgusting as I am to you, I swear that I shall ever be your faithful servant.

With those words spoken, he handed her the bow her father had lovingly made that Morla had tarnished and tried so cruelly to destroy in her vicious vainglory.

Fully restored.

 

2

Mated to a dragon.

And not just any dragon … one of the oldest of the Were-Hunter breeds. Illarion Kattalakis.

This was most definitely not the way Edilyn had seen this day ending. Not in her worst nightmare, and given the fact that her mother had once been a warrior of nightmare demons, that said a lot.

They knew nothing of each other. Not really.

Yet here she was. Feeling stupid and vulnerable. And wishing she'd chosen a better outfit.

At least one that matched.

That sensation wasn't helped as Illarion righted the horned helm on her head and reminded her of her intentionally matted hair and the brambles in it, while he patiently waited for her response. He arched an expectant, teasing brow.

Gracious, he was the handsomest man she'd ever seen.

For a dragon.

“Father!” Morla wailed. “'Tis unfair! He's supposed to be
my
husband! My dragon! I want it!” She stamped her foot. “I did everything to win him and get rid of her. Do something! Now!”

The expression on Illarion's face said it would be a mistake for the brenin to try.

When he started forward, the other dragons kept him back.

“My lord?” Tarius approached Illarion respectfully. “It's an honor to meet you.”

Illarion's features turned to stone and all humor and friendliness fled his eyes as he turned toward his brethren drakos. This was the cold countenance of a killer. A lethal beast who hated them all.

How peculiar that he had no greater fondness for the dragons than she did.

At her delayed answer, sadness darkened those enchanting eyes.
Very well. I shall bother you no more, my lady. Good life to you.
He pulled his hood up to conceal his features again and turned to leave.

“Wait!” Edilyn spoke before she even realized it.

Illarion stopped and turned back toward her.

You hate dragons. You hate them all,
she reminded herself.

And yet …

She saw in her mind the way he'd rushed to protect her. Remembered the way he'd teased her and made her feel warm, even while the others mocked her during the trials.

This was all kinds of stupid. She knew it.

Even so, she couldn't stop the words from leaving her lips. “I'll come with you.”

With a hesitation that seemed incongruous for such a powerful creature, he held his hand out to her. But he made no move toward her, letting her know that the final decision was entirely up to her and her alone. He would not encroach on her choice in any way.

That made this much easier.

Illarion wasn't like the others. He seemed as uncertain of this as she was.

Her hand shaking, she took his and stepped into a most uncertain future with the last creature she'd ever thought to meet.

The moment she made that tiny physical contact, a bright flash blinded her. Everything spun until she couldn't gather her bearings. She floated in what appeared to be a dream. Or was she falling? She couldn't quite tell what was happening.

Not until she found her feet on solid ground in the center of a huge, dark cave.

A massive cavern, really.

Yet it wasn't cold. Rather it seemed a pleasant temperature. Nor was it overly dark. Especially since torches lit themselves the moment they appeared inside it.

She turned around slowly so that she could examine the glistening black walls. “Where are we?”

My home.

“Which is?”

Where I live.
His tone was flat and dry.

As well as irritating.

She gave him a peeved stare. “And that is?”

In a place where no one can find me.
He lowered his hood to stare at her.
Are you afraid now?

Edilyn knew what he wanted and she refused to give him that satisfaction. “Should I be?”

One corner of his mouth lifted.
Most would be terrified.

“I'm not most.”

Nay, you are not, especially for such a tasty little morsel.

For some reason, the note in his voice warmed her, in spite of words that could be construed as a threat. “And I still wish to know where this place is.”

Where I cannot be disturbed or attacked.

Or found.

Someone even less trusting than she. Had she not borne witness to it, she wouldn't have believed it possible. Truly, this was amazing.

And that made her curious about another matter where he was concerned. “Are you incapable of speaking?”

I have no vocal cords, if that's what you're asking. They were severed by a cruel hand when I was a small dragonet.
He slowly drew near her, stopping just as he reached her back. Yet he didn't touch her. Not that he needed to. His presence was so fierce and intimidating. Overwhelming. The power of him bled and filled the room to capacity.

It electrified her.

And terrified her in spite of her bold words and resolve to not let it. He was a savage beast, even in the guise of a man. No matter how hard she might want to pretend otherwise, she couldn't deny it. There was something innately raw and commanding about him. Something so sinister and cold.

He didn't have to say he held no value for human life, it was as if the very fiber of his being telegraphed it for others.

With a gentleness that belied the bloodthirsty dragon she'd seen rip apart her enemies, he lifted a lock of her hair from her shoulder. A light smile hovered over his lips as he brushed her hair against his skin and inhaled its scent. In that moment, she was grateful she'd listened to her brother, who was being uncommonly quiet through all of this.

Which led her to a much more awkward thought.…

“Do you wish to rut with me now?”

He let out a peculiar scoffing sound of air rushing from between his teeth.
Is that what you want?