The Dragon's Distrust (5 page)

Aristo frowned, “You love him, don’t
you?”

Tania hesitated. She was confused when
it came to Patryck, “I love him like I love all living
creatures.”

Aristo scoffed and plopped down beside
Tania eying her hard, “Tell me the truth.”

She shook her head, “I don’t know what
the truth is.”

“You slept with him, didn’t
you?”

Tania’s heart sunk. And now began her
nightmare. She knew Aristo would never forgive her, “Yes,” she said
weakly.

Aristo nodded and took in a slow, deep
breath. His hand kept clenching into a fist. Tania hoped he would
hit her, punish her for her betrayal. She needed to be punished.
But he never raised his hand against her. Dragons were not
monsters.

Instead, Aristo did something she did
not expect. He reached forward and held her face in both of his
large hands. He brought her lips close to his and he placed a
gentle kiss on her. Tania nearly whimpered.

“I know you are the Dragon
Mother,” he said, “I don’t like the idea of sharing you…I
will
never
like
the idea but I know it has to be this way. The magic inside you
will not belong to just one dragon. You are the legacy for all
dragons. You will crave us like you crave food.”

Tania pulled herself from his grasp and
began to weep, “I know. Stephan told me. I didn’t want to believe
him. I love you. I love only you.”

Aristo drew himself close, close enough
for Tania to rest her head on his chest. He brushed her long,
matted hair out of her face, “And I will always love
you.”

“Please forgive me.”

“There is nothing to
forgive.”

“Please…”

He nodded, “This won’t be the last time
you sleep with another dragon.”

“Yes, it will.”

“No, it won’t. You cannot control the
magic of the Dragon Mother.”

Tania yanked back, “Then I don’t want
it. I don’t want to betray you again. I need to find a way to be
rid of it.”

“You can’t. You are the Dragon Mother.
That is your destiny—your calling.”

“No!” Tania stood up and slowly walked
backward into a felled log. She tripped and nearly slammed into the
ground but Aristo was fast. He caught her in his arms, “Let me
go!”

He shook his head, “The forest is
dangerous, Tania, especially for a naked beauty. Predators of all
kinds lurk in the shadows.”

“I don’t care. Let them hurt me. I
deserve it,” she began to cry again, her guilt bubbling up to the
surface and boiling her heart.

“No. You deserve happiness. You deserve
to be loved. What is wrong with having several dragons love you for
who you are? Why don’t you want to carry our legacy?”

Tania pursed her lips, “I don’t want to
ever betray you.”

He sighed, “I know I am your first love
and that is all I need. You have not betrayed me. Am I hurt? A bit.
Will I allow that pain to fester? No. Not as long as you want
me…not as long as you still love me.”

“I do love you!”

“Then don’t run from who you are,” he
paused, “And remember, if you run, I will chase you down. I like a
good hunt.” He smiled and winked.

Tania’s lower lip quivered, “Then kiss
me. Kiss me and tell me to run.”

“Oh Princess, you tempt me,”
he pulled her close and kissed her hard, a kiss that made Tania
forget where she was, who she was, or that she was even alive. She
had missed him terribly. His kisses were like heaven and his touch
was home. Just as Tania was falling into the dream of sharing
herself with Aristo, he stood her up and pulled back, “but I cannot
fulfill your wish this day. I am weak and Patryck needs our
protection. In a few days, love, I
will
ravish you until you beg me to
stop.”

“I would never ask you to
stop.”

He chuckled, “You’ve never known me at
peak physical condition.” He snapped his teeth. Tania yelped and
jumped. Her heart quickened. She couldn’t wait to have him all over
her once more. He was an animal in bed, out of bed…She leapt on him
and sucked his lips forcefully. She never wanted to stop touching
him.

Aristo moaned loud enough to scatter a
few perching birds but he kept pushing her away. Tania finally
stepped back. Perhaps he had not forgiven her. He could keep
denying her by saying he and Patryck were ill, but illness never
stopped him before.

Tania slouched to the ground
disappointed. Her poor self-esteem once again raised its’ ugly head
and kept her drowning in despair. Her father had said she was a
terrible person and he was right. Not even monsters wanted her
now.

Aristo seemed to read her mind and
rightfully so. They were bonded—she was marked by him and he was
claimed by her. They could feel each other’s emotions on a
spiritual level. He knelt down beside her and placed her palm on
his heart, “Do you feel that?” he asked.

She nodded.

“No, you don’t. Close your eyes and
feel me with your heart.”

Tania sighed. She didn’t understand
what he meant but she did as he asked. She at first heard the
tell-tale thump, thump, of his heart but the more she listened, the
more his spirit spoke. She could feel his heart break when he
discovered her betrayal but more than that, she could feel his
forgiveness and love wash into her. He did not despise her. More to
the point, he wanted her. He always wanted her. He had been telling
the truth when he said he couldn’t please her physically because he
was in a great deal of pain.

Tania immediately hated herself for
jumping to the wrong conclusions. But Aristo felt this and said,
“No, Tania. Please, don’t. You are mine, now and forever. I could
never hate you, so please don’t hate yourself. You didn’t
understand what it meant to be a Dragon Mother and now you do. You
should be happy. You found yourself a real family. We take care of
each other.”

His words echoed those of Stephan’s.
She started to believe that perhaps, just maybe, she had found a
real family. They were not typical like most traditional families
but they did have love. And love was a gift that Tania only now
received. She would not throw it away.

Chapter 6

King Polas slammed one of his guards
against the Arena wall. The gray stone remained firm as the man’s
armor dented into his shoulders, “Where is my dragon?” he yelled.
He shoved his face into the guard and spat, “Where is he? He should
be in the middle of my Arena! He should be dead! Dead! Dead!” In a
fit of rage, he hopped up and down and continued to pelt the guard
with foul language and fists.

“Brynt!” Polas screamed. His words
echoed in the now empty Arena. The townsfolk had run home with
their tails firmly between their legs after the rescue. They feared
retribution from both the tormented dragon and from Polas’
anger.

“Brynt!” he yelled again. Dribble
leaked from the corners of his down-turned lips as he continued to
froth at the mouth in complete and utter rage. His dragon slayers
remained standing and glared at him. They would blame him for the
loss of the dragon. Polas would still have to pay them. A sudden
thought donned on him. He snapped his fingers and ran toward the
three dragon slayers who made no movement as he rushed them, “Find
him! Find them all! I want them all dead!”

“Tha’ll cost ya,” the dragon slayer in
the middle spoke. He had a harsh accent and a high-pitched voice.
He was covered in head-to-toe silver armor. It gleamed as the
torchlight found him. He was roughly the size of a bear and smelled
like one, too. He was a Dragon Slayer which meant he was tough,
burly, and nearly immune to pain. Dragon Slayers undergo a harsh
regiment of self-flagellation and depravation—they deprive
themselves of food, family, emotion, and sense of self. They are no
one and no one is hard to kill.

“I will pay you whatever you want!”
Polas shouted. His voice was hoarse but still he managed to
scream.

The dragon slayer glanced around, “I
danna think ya cain.” The Arena had seen better days. The walls
were cracked, columns leaned onto each other, and the stench of
illness was constantly being carried on the breeze. The Dragon
Slayers had just come from the town and they had seen the poverty
there. Even the castle was in shambles.

“Everything in my coffers is
yours!”

“Save ya monies,” he replied, “Ya
oughtta use it yerself.”

“But my dragons!” Polas stomped his
foot on the ground and growled like a feral dog, “I want them dead!
Dead! Dead!”

The dragon slayer pursed his mouth,
“yep.”

Polas grabbed him by the shoulders and
shook him violently, “Then do something about it! Now!”

The Dragon Slayer harrumphed and
knocked Polas’ arms away. With a single stare, Polas backed away
slowly. The Dragon Slayer fixed his armor and shifted to get more
comfortable. He stroked the hilt of his sword and made sure there
were arrows in his blood red quiver. He felt the crimson feathers
on the end of the arrows with his leather gloved hand. The Dragon
Slayers had never allowed a dragon to escape them and the memory of
the Water Dragon flying overhead and escaping was fresh in their
mind.

They glanced at each other and nodded,
“Verra well. All monies in tha coffers.”

******

Brynt watched in dismay as his father
made new deals with the slayers. The kingdom was in tatters. The
Keep was barely standing. The soldiers hadn’t been paid in
months—villagers were dying of starvation. Everyone was poor and
every one suffered.

Perhaps the wicked dragon had been
correct—perhaps all of this mayhem and misery was caused by one
man’s hatred.

He sighed. Brynt wished there was a way
to end his father’s reign. He did not want to overthrow the King,
but he desperately wanted the Kingdom to regain its former glory.
There was a time, when he was very young, Brynt could remember
immaculate parties and even real laughter. He missed those days.
They didn’t last very long, however. Polas began hunting dragons
and spending money as if he was to die the next day.

Brynt turned on his heel and left his
father to his tirade. His father was on the brink of insanity and
he couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

A noise caught his attention and he was
abruptly startled. He choked for several moments on his shock. The
most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon waltzed toward him.
Her feet barely touched the ground. She seemed to glide in mid-air.
Her hair was so dark that even night shied away. It curled over her
delicate shoulders, ample bosom, and even brushed her perfectly
round hips. She had a sway that hypnotized him. He finally managed
to drag his gaze from her feminine curves and realized her face was
breath-taking. Her bright green eyes twinkled even in the darkness.
Her lips were plump and full and begged to be kissed. She had high
cheekbones but they were not chiseled, everything was soft about
her. She even seemed to glow.

Brynt swallowed loudly and managed to
mumble a pathetic “hello”. It sounded like a cat choking on a
hairball.

Her smile nearly knocked the wind from
his chest, “Hello, Brynt.” Her voice was like the most decadent
chocolate and went down just as smooth. Everything about her
screamed perfection and yet, there was something vaguely familiar
about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it and didn’t care to.
There were other things and places he wished his fingers to
explore.

“I would know your name, my lady,” he
said as he licked his lips. His mouth had gone bone dry. He was no
longer leaning against a slanted, crumbling column. He stood rigid
and twitched his left foot in sheer excitement.

“Names are not important.”

“But you know mine, my
lady.”

“Again, names are not important,” she
spoke.

“What is?” he asked, swallowing
hard.

She crept up close and stroked his
cheek with the back of her hand. Seduction oozed from her pores.
Brynt shivered and wanted to faint dead away in her lap.

“Being King,” she said simply. She
winked at him, “I know you are the Crowned Prince. But how can you
rule a kingdom if none exist?”

He slightly came out of his
lust-induced stupor, “What do you mean?” A beautiful woman should
know nothing of politics.

“Your father has dug this country’s
grave. Will you tolerate this?”

He licked his lips again and sighed,
“My lady, you speak of things you know nothing of. You would do
well to go home. There are criminals about.”

Her grin broadened, “I heard of the
prisoners escaping the Keep.”

“Exactly. Go home.”

She half-smiled and gazed deeply into
his eyes, “What if I could promise you a kingdom full of wealth, a
beautiful woman at your side, and glory like no one else before has
ever achieved?”

He scoffed, “Lady, I do not know your
game and I do not wish to play. The hour is getting
late…”

“Indeed it is. Do you know what I like
to do in the dark of the night?” She stared at him wantonly and
touched the curve of her breasts. Brynt gulped. A few beads of
sweat trickled down his temples. He was out of his depth and
drowning in her allure.